“Dancing on Glass” by St. Lucia

150. Song No. 2,304: “Dancing on Glass,” St. Lucia
Matter, 2016

Here I am talking about how little ’80s-sounding things appeal to me, and then The Anniversary and this freaking song show up to prove me wrong in the happiest way possible. (An early-D Little Champions song also directed me back to the that band, so hi from a few days of going metaphorically balls-deep on The B-52s’ modern-day incarnation.)

This is another song my husband’s closest buddy introduced me to on one of the countless nights we’ve hunkered down in the living room for a night of drinks, music and increasingly animated conversation/rubber-armed gesticulation. It was love at first “Wait, is this Fanfarlo?”

It also felt instantly familiar for another reason: Unsurprisingly for a song with a recurring line like “Never gonna stop until it’s broken,” the lyrics are all about taking the harmless things we enjoy to risky extremes, bad habits to their dangerous natural-end escalations and the fun out of something that’s only enjoyable in measured doses. Healthy decisions have felt beyond my domain for most of my life, so the whole concept of getting too old to keep my demons to myself to maintain a facade of responsibility as the charade grows increasingly onerous is the kind of well-trod territory that feels like home.

Beyond that, I got stuck on this tune for a hot minute a few years ago, which coincided with navigating my mother-in-law’s two-wheel-drive living room on wheels of a Mercury Grand Marquis home from work in a vicious snowstorm. As I fishtailed my way up the Jersey Turnpike, narrowly avoided death by Pennsy drivers horrifyingly out of their element, and eventually careened through a blessedly deserted intersection and a decidedly red light, all the while white-knuckling Black Shark’s steering wheel, I had this song on an infinite loop, its joyful romp through stubbornly, gleefully upheld ruinous life choices a weirdly apt accompaniment as I finally parked across a usually hectic highway-turned-parking lot as knee-high snow drifts stilled the world enough for me to pick my way between immobilized vehicles in all four lanes of the final chapter of a blizzard turning my daily commute into a veritable survival movie.