To begin with, gentle (and hopefully) non-judgemental reader, I am an awful dancer so if you had any illusions involving your author possessing even an iota of rhythm you’d do best to put them aside. Although I may be one of the more awkward patrons to stumble clumsily across the dance floor, attempting loosely to follow in time to a beat, I do not shy from it. In fact, after several vodka-redbulls, I thoroughly embrace it and it was one particular, uncharacteristically cool night in February that I found myself in this exact situation. After two ABC shots immediately preceding four equally potent drinks in what is, without a doubt, the only club that isn’t home to the overwhelming stench of bodily fluids that seems to hang around Surfers Paradise like a thick, stagnating smog, I clambered up the stairs in Elsewhere in search of the hypnotic, light-up dance floor they’re famous for. Stretch Paper Cranes, the resident DJ, was on form, spinning tasty track after tasty track and to say that I was impressed at his choices of tunes is an understatement. I was admiring Stretch’s near-immaculate skill, fading in from one track to the next in what appeared to be a seamless transition, when I noticed a somewhat incongruous cowbell beat. When the songstress chimed in my interest was well and truly piqued. The female vocalist’s voice was almost palpable in its richness – it sounded the way velvet feels. I needed to know who was singing, so in one swift movement that seemed almost instinctual I pulled out my phone and Shazamed the song – Lykke Li’s I Follow Rivers from the album Wounded Rhymes. To be wholly honest, I spent the next day in a haze of squeamish, uncomfortable hangover so I didn’t get around to actually buying the album until two days after. It was one of the very few purchases I’ve made that I truly didn’t regret.

Read More