Music is all-powerful and all-consuming.  It can conjure up memories of good and bad times in a flash, provides sanctuary in times of trouble and is reassuringly enduring in this painfully short and fragile existence of ours.  It has been around since time began in one form or another, and is a significant method of communication when words would otherwise fail.  And (loosely in the case of the Eurovision Song Contest) it is able to unite entire nations.  In short, it is imperative to our survival.
 
And there are certain pieces of music that once you've heard for the first time, you know they are going to endure; that they will change the course of your life forever.  As soon as you hear the opening bars, you begin to understand their importance to society and how they are able to bridge the gap between old and young.  I could of course be talking about Beethoven's 'Moonlight Sonata', or the haunting sounds of Mozart's 'Symphony Number 29 in A Major'.  But I'm not.  I'm talking about truly timeless classics, such as the Village People's 'YMCA'.

This was made painfully clear to me during a trip to my in-laws last Saturday evening.  My two little nieces insisted on putting on a CD of "classics" for us all to dance around the lounge to (yep, I'm afraid these are my Saturday nights since I passed the age of twenty-five).  And yes, there’s no denying that they were bad…but they were no different to the songs I used to dance to as a kid myself. 

Suddenly I was back on the dancefloor at the 1986 Southend Conservative Club's Easter Disco, where I proudly won a bag of honeycomb for my superior dancing skills to Diana Ross's 'Chain Reaction' (the only thing I've ever actually won in my sad little life so far).  Skip to Rednex's 'Cotton Eye Joe' and I'm being flung headfirst into the buffet table at a friend's twenty-first birthday party during a particularly vigorous dosey-do with a man who didn't know his own strength (I survived the experience, the buffet unfortunately didn’t).

The CD moves on.  'Superman' by Black Lace is a classic, as are most songs with actions.  If I were ever to abandon my life’s purpose and become a DJ, songs with actions would be my saviours.  They never fail to get people up dancing…who doesn't love a song that takes away that whole embarrassing dancefloor experience by telling you exactly what you're supposed to do?  It's certainly handy for explaining away any dodgy dance moves…"but the song's telling me to do it!"  you protest as you "comb your hair" and "spray" under your arms to the music (you omit to mention that you'd be doing a variation of these actions regardless of the music being played).  Ditto the 'Macarena', 'The Birdie Song' and that flipping awful 'Cha Cha Slide' by DJ Casper or whatever his name is.  Don’t worry if you don’t know all the actions, give it a few moments and some smartarse will invariably have started it all off – all you have to do is copy them. 

With some songs you can become a completely different person (at least you can in your own head, after consuming just the right amount of vodka tonics).  Watch people transform before your very eyes from pale, pigeon-chested office clerks to swarthy, graceful Latinos as soon as anything by Ricky Martin or J-Lo starts up (like I say, it does have to be just the right amount of vodka tonic…)

'Rocking All Over The World' by Status Quo is one of those songs that it is considered acceptable for straight men to dance to.  This is largely because they think standing on the dancefloor, headbanging and playing air-guitar loosely in time with the music qualifies as a manly dance.  (Madness’s ‘Baggy Trousers’ is another good ‘dancefloor song for men’ – only with this one they can lark about a bit and pretend they’re not taking it at all seriously).

By the time we get to 'Music Man' by Black Lace (again) I'm starting to lose the will to live.  I have never danced to this song, mainly because I think it's one of the stupidest songs ever written.  "I am the Music Man, I come from down your way, and I can play…"  What follows is a variation of noises you'd usually only hear from inside your local lunatic asylum.  If there was a man like that living down "our way" who thinks shouting "Pia-pia-piano" in a loud voice qualifies as actually being able to play the instrument, someone would have called social services by now.  But that's modern times for you, I suppose - always ruining everyone's fun.

So there you go…if you’re planning a party any time soon surely you won’t go wrong with that little lot.  All you need to do is add ‘Come on Eileen’ and ‘Hi-Ho Silver Lining’ and you have yourself a really classic playlist. 

(Just don’t forget the copious amounts of alcohol)