Return of the Mac

On New Year’s Eve – or more specifically early on New Year’s Morning – my friend Shortround and I were discussing a mutual interest, in one of those life affirming conversations where you both express your love for a shared person or thing, reaffirming both how good that thing is but also your friendship and what it is based on. It was a good talk, and it was about how much we both fucking love Annie Mac.

I doubt it’s necessary to go into detail as to our reasons. She plays good music, she plays good shows, she’s introduced me personally to a lot of really great tunes that I would not otherwise have heard (well, not me personally, obviously. Although that would be brilliant). It doesn’t hurt that she’s really fit and has a voice like a honey fondue.

We were, inevitably, pretty smashed. The night had been good to us. And, because I have a tendency to get over-sentimental when I’m high and also because I never know when to let go of a conversation thread, I began to imagine what I might say to her should I ever get the chance to meet her.

I’d probably tell her that I think she’s pwetty, but I think I’d save that until the end in case she immediately loses interest or has a bodyguard or a stun gun in her bag. Firstly I would say that even though we’ve never met, she’s done quite a bit for me, sorted me out with some really good times, and that I and all her other fans (and let me tell you, we are legion) really appreciate that.

Now, Annie Mac gets this all the time. I am not (shock horror) the first person to think of thanking a famous person for being in their lives. I am also not the first person to get over-sentimental just because I have a little crush on said famous person.

What I REALLY would have wanted to say was that listening to her has brought me closer with some other people I care about, Shortround in particular. I probably wouldn’t say that if he was there with me, because that’d be a bit embarrassing and might possibly lead her to believe we were a couple (which clearly would damage my, admittedly slim, chances with her and let me get this straight: I’d beat up Shortround to get with Annie Mac. Fact).

It’s a mushy sentiment, and one that, by that point in the night, I was well beyond expressing in such a coherent manner. If I had run into Annie Mac, I probably would have just given her a high five, and then maybe gone off to have a cry. And I doubt I’m going to get up on the radio and say it either – she almost certainly has people screening her calls for people that just want to gush over her.

The point is: that I like Annie Mac so much partly because my friends like her too. I love Metal Gear Solid because my little brother loves it, and can do all the voices. I like dubstep primarily because of the people I listen to it with. There are hundreds of books I cherish, but the icing on the cake is having a fulfilling, positive talk about one of them with someone I care about that likes it too.

Wanting to keep something to yourself is something we’re all guilty of. In times gone past I’ve been secretly disappointed when bands I like have become more popular, and I have to share them with other people. And with the New Year already under way I’ve come to a decision: that’s just the kind of elitist crap we can do without.

I think art is about sharing; I think I’ve said this before here. Although yes, I truly and sincerely believe that an artefact can communicate with an individual on a personal and private level, and that this is part of what art is and what it always should be, I would always want to turn to a friend and ask what they thought of it.

We didn’t get to see Annie Mac that night. We’d overstayed on one place and couldn’t get into the next place, and although we were disappointed, we knew there would always be next time. The main thing was- I’d gotten together with Shortround and half a dozen or so others, and we’d shared something for a bit. Now, January is a pretty crummy month, in my opinion. The weather stinks, and no one has any money. So, if you could do with a little flash to cheer you up, even only briefly, I would like to posit this: that there’s stuff to share, and people to share it with. There will always be someone out there who has shared an experience with you and would be willing to talk about it for a spell, even if it’s something as mundane as a book or a film or what you did on your New Year’s.

So at the risk of sounding trite, get out there and share a little; it’ll make you feel better.

Stay the fuck away from Annie Mac, though. She’s mine.