Je me Rappelle…


As she awakes from her acoma, she is asked what she can remember and she suddenly starts recalling lyrics from her favourite song….

I remember house when house was more then just a name to package this sound, this groove, this emotion.
I remember house when it was just one house.
I remember house when house had artists, songwriters and personalities.
I remember house when you didn’t have to be a DJ just to be into house.
I remember house when house was broke.
I remember house when house was done in the house.
I remember house when it WAS a spiritual thing…

It WAS a spiritual thing, It Was a spirtual thing…


I remember house  before it was techno.
I remember house before it had an afro.
I remember house before it was deep.
I remember house before it was hard.

I remember house when house had tempo.
I remember house before MPC-16’s.
I remember house before house had roots.
I remember house before the whole world knew.

I remember house before it was called house.
I remember house when house respected house.
I remember house when house grew on the roots of house.
I remember house when house was soulmusic and R’n’B,
before house was disco.

I remember house before the superclubs.
I remember house when people knew the lyrics of house.
I remember house before record labels sold the house.
I remember house when house was about love…

She then pauses…

‘Does anyone remember my name?”

“Yes”, someone shouts, “It’s House!’

She looks at herself and becomes….sad….

‘How did I get this way? I don’t remember…’

Silence falls.

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