Picture the scene. You’re on the dance floor in a dimly lit club. All around you, people sway in unison, lasers illuminate euphoric faces, the DJ drops another track, triggering a frenzy of head-nodding. The partygoers are evenly split between men and women, as are the bar staff, but in the DJ booth it’s different. Pale, skinny men strut behind the decks as the crowd stares at them blankly. Behind them, a gaggle of girls jostle for attention. Passing the DJs their drinks, rolling their cigarettes, rifling through their record bags. Does this sound familiar? It does to me because, for a time in my 20s, I was that girl.
