#worldclique

Artista: Deee-Lite (Estados Unidos)

Álbum: World Clique

Año: 1990

Género: Dance

Compositores: Dmitry Brill; Chung Dong-Hwa; Lady Miss Kier; Herbie Hancock; Q-Tip

Sello: Elektra Records

Letra

Dig

The chills that you spill up my back Keep me filled with satisfaction when we're done Satisfaction of what's to come

I couldn't ask for another No, I couldn't ask for another

Your groove, I do deeply dig No walls, only the bridge, my supper dish My succotash wish

I couldn't ask for another No, I couldn't ask for another

Groove is in the heart, Groove is in the heart Groove is in the heart, Groove is in the heart

Watch out!

The depth of hula groove Move us to the nth hoop We're going through to, Horten hears a who

I couldn't ask for another No, I couldn't ask for another

DJ Soul was on a roll I been told he can't be sold Not vicious or malicious Just de-lovely and delicious

I couldn't ask for another

Someone's in this torso (yeah) Hot! Gotta deal you wanna know (wanna know) Dee-Liteful truly Dee-Liteful (liteful) Makin' it doin' it 'specially at show (show) Feeling kinda high like a Hendrix haze (haze) Music makes motion moves like a maze (maze) All inside of me (side) Heart especially (yeah) Help of the rhythm where I wanna be (c'mon) Flowin' glowin' with electric eyes (ha) You dip to the dive baby you'll realize (yeah) Baby you'll see the funky side of me Baby you'll see that rhythm is the key (hmm!) Get get ready with it (with it) Can't can't quit it (quit it) Stomp on the street when I hear a funk beat (beat) Playing Pied Piper Follow what's true Baby just sing about the groove (sing it)

Dear friends of mine in the early 90s:

I’m sorry I was so obsessed with Deee-Lite. I know my obsession manifested itself in poor fashion choices that hurt your eyes. There are photos, some you took, some my family took for documentation, and I regret their existence. (That one of me in that loud print shift dress in front of the Woodstock poster when we were on vacation in upstate NY comes to mind.)

I know I tried to force the album “World Clique” on you like it was the hymnal from a cult I had joined. You probably were at best polite about it and bobbed your head in an attempt to understand. Some of you latched onto a few songs, endeared yourselves to the popular singles so as not to attract any additional pressure from me to consume subsequent albums and endless remix bootlegs. A tiny few of you even make references to treasured favorite lyrics in conversation with me to this day. And one of you, you know who you are, even enabled me by getting @ladymisskier’s personalized autograph for me on a napkin from some gig she had at a club in Atlanta…

Know what?! FUCK THIS. I regret nothing. That album pulled me out of a years-long childhood depression and saved me from the horror show that was my family life at that time. That colorful wardrobe was the first time in my life I made entirely my own fashion choices and earned a raised eyebrow from my mom (wouldn’t be the last, though!) I looked ridiculous but you all LOVED IT. Encouraged it with your derision, even.

And to those of you egged me on and shared in that loooooo-ooooove, FUCK YEAH. We did that. We will always have that music. We will always know what it means when one of us texts the other, “MUNCHIN OUT. PEANUT BUTTER. THERE’S NO DOUBT.” Or know that reciting the opening speech of “Call Me” on my voicemail is a distress signal. Because YOU GET ME. And I GET YOU and always have and still do. That album made our friendships rise like cream to the top of life.