Bash Compactor: Moaning in the Morning
Learning new moves from Jonté Moaning
Jonté / Photo by Gerry Visco
“I’m not a morning person, either,” he confessed, airily arriving in a casual Michael Jackson look, with a military cap and jacket. So what’s his story? Unusually modest, he makes it sound easy. “I came to New York from Portland, Oregon, on August 11, 2001, a month before 9/11,” he said. Now he’s finishing up a new album and, like the Tom Waits song, he’s big in Japan. Speaking of cartoons, with his perfectly molded body and exotic glam, he’s as unreal as Gumby.
Of course, everyone in the health club was wondering what incredible pop star was in their midst. “So, how about the dance lesson,” Jonté prodded me. Uh oh. Moment of truth in front of the mirror. “Put your foot like that, your hands like that,” he demonstrated gracefully. I tried to follow the moves but kept going off on the wrong foot.
Any suggestions to improve? Crayon told me she’d get me a copy of his instructional video from his show at Santos Party House later that week. But Jonté had the answer. His eyes twinkling behind the aviator shades, he told me, “Just enjoy the ride and scream with me, ‘My pussy’s on fire!’”





























