Desert Island Disco

  • 27 January 2014
  • POSTED BY Bruce
  • Milestone-theme

In 1977, a strange piece of flotsam washes up with the tide on an island somewhere in the South Atlantic. The victim of a wild party hundreds of miles away, a giant and abandoned disco ball finally comes to rest on the beach. Squinting at the sunlight reflecting off its hundreds of mirrors, a tribesman gently lifts it from the wet sand, feels the tides turn, and runs it back to the elders. Night falls and the tribe dance around their new talisman, flashes of fire reflecting off the disco ball, splashing sparkles across their feathers and spears. As the ball spins and spins, their drums find a new rhythm. Entranced by the glittery orb a four-to-the-floor beat surges through. The tribesman on the 3-string hootoo begins to whap at his bass string.

This. Is. The. Dawn. Of. Disco.

A new religion, a new way of life, a new way to dance until sunrise.

Since its launch in 2013, the good ship HMS Bestival and her crew have been roaming the seas of the world. It’s a voyage of exploration and discovery. They’ve picked up rebels and misfits, artists and prophets. They’ve broken jagged trails through the ice of the Arctic ocean, partied with Inuit people and run with the bears; traversed the warm waters of the Arabian Gulf and docked in Asian ports, trading stories and treasures with Persian kings and medicine men, learnt tumbles from acrobats and songs from the streets of exotic citadels. They keep moving.

Many waves pass under the bow and somewhere, far out of the Gulf of Guinea in the oceans of the South Atlantic, a yell goes up from the crows nest; “Land Ahoy! We’re going to hit her, Captain!” Before the crew can turn the metal hulk of the ship, she gently beaches herself on the warm sands of a desert island. Unknown and uncharted territory.

Looking through his telescope, the look-out frowns confused. There, through the palms fringing the beach, in a clearing; a stone temple, and teems of bamboo and palm roofed shacks. He hears the distant sound of drums on the breeze and sees tiny tribes people moving and shaking. And there, in the middle of it all, the source of his confusion, is a giant bloody disco ball.

This, my friend is Desert Island Disco. And you are very welcome.