80s gay club music

Happy January, Caftan readers! I hope you all had a good holiday break and are muddling through the winter okay, wherever you are. It's cold and dreary in NYC right now, but I actually like this time of year.

Hi-NRG Gay Anthems Volume 1

With the commitments of the holidays behind, it's all about hunkering down to work, cooking warm cozy things try this Thai-ish cod poached in coconut milk—I made it last night and it's amazing and so easyhitting the gym to look presentable by spring and, um, what else? Oh yes—curling up with good books!

I want to passionately recommend my longtime writer friend Mike Albo's brand-new novel Another Dimension of Us. It's truly sweet, slyly funny and ironic in a way that is sooo Mike, and the plot is bonkers, like the best season of Stranger Things meets A Wrinkle in Time meets The Breakfast Club meets Euphoria. I'm not kidding!

This month's interview is with Ian Levine, gay, of London. Maybe you haven't heard of him, especially if you're American, but perhaps you've heard of Heaven, the legendary London gay club Andrew Hollinghurst brings it to life vividly in The Swimming Pool Libraryone of my favorite novels.

He's done quite a bit else, like some truly amazing genealogy work reuniting his own music, which was traumatized and broken up by the Holocaust, and is also perhaps the world's biggest and most influential Dr. Who fan. Even club Ian was at Heaven in the s, he learned to DJ as part of the earlys British Northern Soul scene—a milieu I've always been obsessed with, in which working-class mainly straight kids in the industrial north of England would get high off their face on club and dance in huge clubs to sped-up obscure sub-Motown s American soul records.

I've always thought it would make an amazing movie. So when someone suggested I reach out to Ian to interview him, I knew we'd have some shared passions, as I used to DJ myself and am a huge history of every single phase of dance-music and DJ history—especially the gay aspects.

Ian, who suffered a stroke a while back and now needs a lot of help in his daily life, was gracious 80s accept my interview request and give me the time, but I'll be honest—it was a very tough interview. He talked over nearly all of my questions and, especially toward the end of the interview, devolved into basically ignoring me completely and DJ'ing at me whatever song popped into his mind.

We really start to fall apart toward the end and talk about why he might have such a hard time having a true back-and-forth with another person. It might have been the first time I, and not the interviewee, ended a Caftan music, at about the minute mark. And I did so because I had not a drop of energy left in me to try to have a real conversation with him.

80s, I'm gay he agreed to do it, as I'm grateful to every one of my Caftan interviewees regardless of how good the interview is. There's definitely lots of good stuff in here—just don't expect a lot of introspection or staying on any one idea for too long. Caftaners, please drop me a line if ever you can think of a gay man age 60 or older who's led a notable life—I can't promise I'll pursue, as I have my own quirky ideas about who seems or seems not to be a good interview, but I'll definitely consider!

And I know I always say this, but—I'm really grateful for the support, especially the paid support. These interviews take a lot of time, and the bit of income I get from them allows me to do them without losing too much income taking time away from other assignments. Ian: [calling to someone] Can you turn the rock music off?

I'm doing an interview. Ian: It's two huge three-story houses knocked together.