It's fun.
It's a party.
Dance yourself fit to the Latin beat in a room full of people in brightly-coloured leggings, and watch the pounds fall off.
That's all very well if you're into that kind of thing. But I'm one of those people who loathes enforced jollity, and speaking as a slightly overweight faded New Romantic, I can't stand the music either. My first and last Zumba class would go down in history as the One With The Axe Massacre, and I am pretty sure that I'm not the only person in the world who feels the same way.
So, what's out there for slightly overweight faded New Romantics, Goths and other followers of slightly depressing alternative music?
Nothing, that's what. There is nowhere - NOWHERE - for fans of the Sisters of Mercy, the Fields of the Nephilim and Joy Division to go along in black, ill-fitting gym gear, Dunlop Green Flash plimsolls and mope around to their least unfavourite music in a darkened village hall, watching the pounds fall off.
And being on the cutting edge of this new fitness craze, I'm the one who gets to give it a name, and I'm calling it ZEMO. Zumba for Emos.
Warm up with a bit of Bauhaus; ramp up the pace with Killing Joke, a touch of Siouxsie; then take a fag break and puke in the corner to The Cramps while the session winds down with The Cure and a few obscure 4AD acts that you pretend you bought on the original vinyl with the art prints and everything. Then it's off to the only local that will serve you for a well-earned snakebite and blackcurrant, the Drink of Champions.
If you're looking for a bit of inspiration, here's the late, great Ian Curtis from Joy Division showing students of ZEMO how to do it.
Dull, slightly overweight Goths, Emos and faded New Roms: Get along to your local village hall after dark, and ZEMO yourself to a new, slimmer, miserable you!
This time next year, Rodders...
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