The muscle memory ain’t working anymore
Going to a party and seeing young people, especially Generation Alpha kids, moving wrong to the Candy Dance broke my heart.
I know that every generation has a signature dance; one that defines its parties, weddings, and celebrations. For millennials and those who came before, the Candy Dance has long been one of those iconic routines that instantly brings people to the dance floor and even gets your grandparents to come to the dance floor.
Whether at a family wedding, a reunion, or a community event, the moment that song and the beat drop, everyone knows what’s coming next; people start grabbing everyone to the dance floor. It’s a cultural staple which brings everyone, including ethnicities, together; the nostalgia of that beat has become part of our tradition, something that is hard to shy away from. Yet, as time moves forward, this once-unifying dance seems to be slowly fading into obscurity, with Gen Alpha losing its groove.
The Candy Dance, like other group dances such as the Electric Slide or the Cha-Cha Slide, has transcended generations, but only to the point where it feels like it will lose its identity. Some millennials, who once danced effortlessly at every family event, now find themselves struggling to recall the exact moves as they are having the Gen Alpha effect. The right or left step? When do you turn around? The muscle memory that once came naturally now feels uncertain. The song still brings joy, but the execution doesn’t feel as sharp as it used to. For a generation juggling adulthood, careers, and responsibilities, the rhythm of the Candy Dance has become a metaphor for something else, underscoring how quickly traditions can slip away when they are no longer practised.
In an age dominated by short-form content and dance trends like Amapiano, Azonto, and Shaku Shaku, the structured, repetitive rhythm of the Candy Dance can feel outdated. These newer dance styles, deeply rooted in Afrobeat and global fusion sounds, prioritise fluid movement and individual expression rather than uniform choreography. They are made for virality, dances that thrive on social media, constantly evolving through reinterpretation. Maybe, the Candy Dance, by contrast, belongs to a pre-digital era, when dance was about community participation rather than online performance.
This generational shift raises a larger question: what happens to cultural dances when they stop trending? Do they disappear, or do they simply rest until nostalgia brings them back? The Candy Dance now occupies a strange middle ground, too recent to be considered “vintage,” yet too old to captivate the youth. It has become a nostalgic symbol for millennials and Gen Xers, but one that doesn’t quite resonate with younger audiences who are more familiar with TikTok challenges than traditional party routines.
There’s also something telling about the way millennials themselves engage with the Candy Dance today. Many admit to hesitating before stepping on the dance floor, not because they don’t want to join in, but because they fear getting the moves wrong. What was once muscle memory now feels like choreography to be relearned. It’s a small but significant reminder that even cultural rituals need consistent practice to stay alive. The Candy Dance was once second nature, but like so many other shared traditions, it’s slipping away quietly, replaced by more globalised and fast-moving cultural expressions.
Yet, despite its fading prominence, the Candy Dance still holds emotional power. When it plays, people light up. There’s laughter, clumsy coordination, and a sense of connection that modern dance, no matter how viral, rarely captures the essence of the moment of pride and joy. It’s more than just a routine; it’s a communal moment that transcends ability. Perhaps that’s the magic of it: even if the steps are forgotten, the feeling will probably remain.
As Afro-inspired dance genres dominate global pop culture, and Gen Alpha grows up mastering Shaku Shaku or Amapiano steps, the Candy Dance might seem like a relic of the past. Just as retro sneakers and vinyl records made their comebacks, the Candy Dance might yet have its moment again and maybe rediscovered by a generation craving authenticity and connection and a nostalgic pride of culturalism.
For now, though, it sits quietly in the memory of those who grew up with it; a beloved rhythm from simpler times, waiting for the day the DJ presses play and everyone remembers, even for a few minutes, how to move together again.
