Dancing at DJ station...

... I make my peace with the death of originality.

Here in Thailand; the land of copies, I've enjoyed the odd drunken night, bopping away in many fabulous nightspots. There's some fantastic gay clubs here. None of them are particularly original, it's the land of copies remember, but they're really good fun. You won't find any ground breaking original music, or design. You won't find any original fashion statements, or performances - so - it's been a great space for me to swan in and mince like a muse. It recently occurred to me that while I was merrily swigging down a few cheeky whiskeys, completely oblivious to much of what was going on around me, I had gained more than a few eager students.

At DJ Station, G.O.D, Bed supper-club, Narcissus, 70's bar, Bossy (Oh Lord NO!!!) - to name but a few - I have spawned more and more imitators breaking out my grooves.

Why not? As well as sleazing my way across every dancefloor and concert hall in the western world, I trained at the Laban centre in London, with some of the finest movement analysts on the planet.

I am certainly not the best dancer in the world, far from it, I wouldn't want to be. But, I know my way around a dance-floor. I've been around the world busting out original dance moves in clubs to every kind of music. From Hip-hop to handbag; rock and roll to disco, folk music to electro, blues to techno, yes, I've done it all and been the last man raving; because, Ladies and gentlemen, I love music. I love all music, to me it isn't “cool,” or “trendy,” it's a wonderful part of the human experience.

I see young beautiful types dancing like me! Hooray - you'd think - imitation is the highest form of flattery! No? Alas, when I try and talk to my protege, just to be friendly, it is abundantly clear that I am really not welcome.

At first this annoyed me. What, you want to move like me but you don't want to talk to me? What the fuck is that all about? What camp Frankenstein's monster have I unleashed? What has the world come too?

Then I realised, with some relief, that this is the way of the world. This is the future, and the future is being replicated right here in Asia. Why have an aging original when you can blow your wad on a brand new copy that is much prettier? Why have Alan Turing's original computer when you can buy an ipad?

The worst part about it all? Dancing with young pretty people; who are doing my thing, and knowing deep down that I look like a pissed-up old uncle at a wedding.  Move over Grand-dad it's time to let the kids play. Oh well...  Ces't la vie!

BEWARE PEOPLE! I have opened Pandora's box. There are some really beautiful gay boys, who are not too bright, with killer dance moves on the prowl. They will be heading for a dancefloor near you. There will be NO MERCY!  Head for the hills. In the words of Sophie satellite-face Baxter - it'll be 'murder on the dancefloor.' Who cares about brainy western boys with their innovative thinking? Why not have the new, slick, more 'user friendly,' Thai copies? I know I do.