Do it light , taking me through the night
Shadow dancing , baby you do it right
Give me more , drag me across the floor
Shadow dancing , all this and nothing more
A live blog of my viewing of Any Gibb’s Shadow Dancing:
1) Andy, what’s with the Baptist sweater? My brother had that exact same sweater. No, really, every man at my church had that sweater. And one or two of the more masculine young ladies. It’s freaking me out. I’m waiting for this whole deal to devolve into Shadow Dancing at The Old Rugged Cross.
2) Oh, no! Andy! Dude! What’s with the pink get-up?? And the vest?? And you move like a Bobble Head doll. You’re frantic and jerky and — good Lord — apparently paralyzed from the waist down. Clearly, some sicko, taking advantage of your handicap, has dressed you all up in frothy pink against your will, ripped the buttons off your shirt to expose your compact and hairy little chest, propped you up on a stage and told you to wiggle about. Good thing I never saw this at the time I was mad for you and your cab-forward teeth. Would have killed my lust instantly.
3) The Shadow Dancers should really stay in shadow. Yamahama. They be bad.
4) At about the 2:23 mark, when you suddenly clutch the mic with both hands and close your eyes, uhm ….. honestly, I had to look away. It’s clearly a private moment and I feel, well, somewhat compromised being subjected to that, Andy Gibb. Take that Baptist sweater off right now, young man.
5) I’m still a little hot for your horse teeth though. I don’t understand it.
6) I’m unclear on something. You want me to shadow dance with you, but you want me to do it “light.” So there’s a fat-free version of shadow dancing, apparently? Help me, Andy Gibb. I want to understand this. If I’m going to shadow dance, why would I do it light? That’s like promising me ice cream then giving me frogurt. Like promising me cookies then giving me SnackWells. Like ….. like promising me something good then giving me something that sucks. I trust I make myself clear.
7) Hm. Is it just me or is this whole post laden with — totally unintentional — double entendres? I swear I’m innocent. And I’m Amish, let’s not forget. I have stated this repeatedly: My father’s family lived in Lancaster, PA and all that Amish stuff seeps into the collective psyche. It’s true. So don’t ask me what I’m even talking about, Ephraim. I don’t know. It’s the devil talking and now I’ll be grounded from rumspringa. Thanks, Beelzebub.
8) Still, Andy Gibb, you want me to do it “light” yet you want to be dragged across the floor. If I even understood this on any level, I imagine I would find this contradictory.
9) On the other hand, I want to play with your hair.
10) On the other hand, your complete earnestness about shadow dancing is still somewhat bewitching to me. And your healthy horse teeth.
Oh. I think I just hit puberty.
Hahahahaha – the examination of the lyrics is killing me… “And in this world of people, there’s only you and I…” So, there’s TWO PEOPLE in this world of people. “Only you can see me through.” Who else is there, Andy? You singin’ to me? I don’t see nobody else.
So don’t ask me what I’m even talking about, Ephraim. I don’t know. It’s the devil talking and now I’ll be grounded from rumspringa.
Bwahahahahaha!
I was a preteen during Andy Gibb’s heyday, and cannot be rational about him. I CARRIED HIS PICTURE IN MY WALLET, for heaven’s sake. /goes off to find her satin jacket
And /all this and nothing more/??
NOTHING more, Andy Gibb?? So there’s some shadow dancing — lite — and some dragging across the floor?
No, Andy Gibb. I fear there’s really nothing in this transaction for me. Just gimme the SnackWells, okay?
Lisa — It was a very confusing time, was it not? I’m now picturing little Lisa, showing her photos to her friends, “This is my mom, this is my dad, my brother. Oh, uhm, yeah, that’s just Andy Gibb. He’s my boyfriend. He IS. He gave me this picture. Yes, he did.”
And NF — Yes, the math here is perplexing. “And in this world of people, there’s only you and I.”
Okay. Either there are lots of people in this world, Andy Gibb, and you’re just retarded for love or the two of you are living alone in some post-apocalyptic HELL in which, honestly, I can’t imagine anyone being able to shadow dance because of radiation and despair.
This is just spooky. Evan sent me this very vid last week, for some completely random reason.
Weirdness.
Really? Okay. Now I’m more freaked out. Like there’s an Andy Gibb virus or something.
Oh to be nine-years-old in the seventies again! I confess it wasn’t Andy Gibb I was gaga over — it was Shaun Cassidy. I need to thank you from the bottom of my heart — this post prompted me to search youtube for Shaun Cassidy, and I came up with this. I adore Goldie Hawn, and watching her flirt with Shaun — I think I’m hitting puberty too.
I was just thinking about Andy Gibb this week… but that’s only because Victoria Principal was in the news this week…
Apparently you’re right on, Trace. Big Andy Gibb virus going around.
My sister was the big Andy Gibb fan. Remember the t-shirt places at the mall where you could go pick out your shirt and the picture that you wanted put on it? She had an Andy Gibbb shirt, and Redfish, I had Shaun Cassidy.
I am wiping away tears–why did we think pink satin was sexy on a man/boy??? FUNNY!!