#KateBush #TheKickInside #ThisWomansWork #WutheringHeights I first encountered Kate Bush when I was about 17. I was part of the dance program at my school, and our teacher, the much beloved Mr. M., had the most sophisticated taste in music. Sinéad O’Connor, Ani DiFranco, Imogen Heap, and Meshell Ndegeocello scored our warm-ups and across-the-floors, the throbbing bassline of “If That’s Your Boyfriend (He Wasn’t Last Night)” rattling the studio’s chandelier; and at our annual dance concert, a two-night-only affair at a theatre on the Upper West Side, a crowd of sixth graders would twirl around to Bulgarian folk music and Sigur Rós. If I’d joined the company in a bid to belong—to disappear into a synchronized corps—its soundtrack had, over time, yielded an equal and opposite reaction. Without a doubt, my developing taste for alternative-Euro-art-rock was only making me more weird. Kate Bush, who celebrates her 61st birthday today, was another one of Mr. M.’s beguilin...
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