The global wave of protests ignited by the killing of George Floyd has been widely declared not just a moment, but a movement. Interestingly, this movement is also characterized by actual movement – the eruption of dance within protest lines. Social media feeds and news snippets have showcased demonstrators performing line dances like the Electric Slide and the Cupid Shuffle, alongside other dances such as the Cha-cha Slide, Macarena, krumping, and even the haka.
Dance and protest have a long and intertwined history. Activists have even adopted a powerful slogan: “If I can’t dance, it’s not my revolution,” a paraphrase of the sentiment expressed by anarchist and feminist Emma Goldman. Dance, in its personal expression, evokes ideals of liberation, joy, and self-expression.
While the euphoria of collective action is certainly a draw for dancing during protests, it’s not the sole reason. Observing these dance clips reveals a key element: nearly every dance is a collective activity. They unite diverse individuals – bridging divides between race, protester status, and even sometimes including law enforcement – into a shared rhythm. Everyone moves in unison, yet maintains personal space. These dances are unifying actions, communal experiences that, beyond striving for a specific goal, bind people together in a non-verbal yet profound way.
Dance, fundamentally, is not combat. It embodies order without coercion, a peaceful yet potent form of protest. Crucially, these impromptu dance gatherings differ from orchestrated flash mobs or performance art activism; they are organic and unauthorized, truly belonging to those who participate. They are, in the most literal sense, movements of the people.
Currently, the Electric Slide appears to be the people’s dance of choice in these movements. But why this particular dance? Like the Cupid Shuffle and Cha-cha Slide, it’s a four-wall line dance incorporating a 90-degree turn after each sequence, allowing it to continue indefinitely. The fundamental steps – sidesteps and step-touches – are relatively simple to grasp, with the Cupid Shuffle perhaps being even more basic. Once the steps are learned, individual style and flair can be freely added.
The Electric Slide boasts a rich heritage, deeply rooted in Black culture with far-reaching influence. The step sequence was initially conceived in 1976 by Broadway dancer Ric Silver. He choreographed it to the upbeat reggae track “Electric Boogie” by Bunny Wailer, a Jamaican hit that later gained mainstream popularity in the US through Marcia Griffiths’ versions in 1982 and 1989.
Interestingly, Silver actively sought to copyright his original 22-step sequence (reportedly favoring the number 22 due to his January 22nd birthday). Despite his attempts to enforce copyright through takedown notices, it was an unauthorized 18-step version that ultimately gained widespread traction. The popularity of the people’s version is understandable; after a standard 16 counts, those extra two steps to swivel provide a subtle and engaging touch, adding a slight variation to the phrase. Adding another four steps, it seems, would disrupt the appealing rhythm.
The 1990s saw the Electric Slide adapted for American line-dancing, where it became a staple within the genre. Its popularity surged further with the 1999 Black romantic comedy, “The Best Man,” featuring the dance set to Cameo’s 1986 hit, “Candy.” Consequently, it became immensely popular at celebrations and gatherings, frequently being referred to as the “Candy Dance.”
And that’s the story of the Electric Slide. Born from Black culture, widely accessible, adaptable, and inclusive. Why not learn the Electric Slide? It promises fun and allows for personal expression, but beyond mere entertainment, it can be a meaningful act of collective participation and solidarity.