Completely out of my depth.

In my final year at school, the one subject at which I really excelled was truancy. One Friday afternoon, three of us bunked off to Crackers Nightclub in Soho to check out their legendary Friday lunchtime soul session. What were we thinking of? This underground den was a gritty, urban showcase for the best dancers in London, all very skilled and very competitive. Lithe, muscular black guys a few years older than us whose moves had to be seen to be believed. We stood in the corner by the bar, terrified of making fools of ourselves in such exalted company. The music was serious funk and although I loved it, I didn’t recognise a single track. But I do remember this rare groove because when it came on, everyone went wild. Everyone except three pale schoolboys, nervously clutching their drinks in the corner.