It’s Friday night and even though I’m reporting to work early tomorrow, no way am I gonna miss tonight’s Remmies. All I wish for is a dance party that peaked with the drunken heavy vocals of Rob Thomas’s This Night Ain’t Good Enough!
When the song released in ’99, I was still a school kid with little English music behind me. Cassettes were still the order of the day and Dida’s bestie, Ruma gave her a decent copy as part of a compilation for her birthday. Neither of us was a dancing queen back then, the tape was only played on the other side – classic numbers from the ’50s and ’60s.
It was for an interschool dance competition that I finally inaugurated Side A. We never ended up dancing to the song [Ricky Martin was the hottie back then – of course, that no one understood Thomas’s song was the real reason], but it caught my fancy. The next best thing to dancing is making out. The next level of rhythm – movement. Heavy percussion, the vocals and of course, Santana’s intricate guitar work are intoxicating. It’s like guzzling a few पटिअलाs and then reading Faiz.
The fever obviously mellowed in a few months’ time… The third time I visited my Ahmedabad guy, bang in the middle of a make-out session in progress, his Windows Media Player bellows Smooth! Something happened. Like a rope snapping from a crane that lets a heavy slab of iron fall from a considerable height – the distance being a build-up to the massive blow when it lands.
As in the case of most of my favourite songs, the hattrick-1999-Grammy-winner has come to be synonymous with blood-red nail paint, the LBD, white wine, cheap thrills, skinny dipping and all things risqué. Despite a definite vagueness in lyrics [which practically sound nonsensical to say the least], the show-stealer sent even my retro-loving dancing partner at Hawaiian Shack in a fit of renewed dancing vigour [and me in a right state of screaming & hooting].
Smooth must play at ANY party this weekend!