Disco
If you ask five musicologists what the first disco song was, you are likely to get five different answers. Some will cite the Hues Corporation's "Rock the Boat" and George McCrae's "Rock Your Baby" (both from 1974) as the first important disco singles; others will tell you that Barry White and Isaac Hayes were playing what came to called disco as early as 1971. And some contend that disco started with the Philadelphia soul sound and Philadelphia International Records. Here's what disco experts generally agree on: disco, a outgrowth of northern soul, got started in the early '70s, and by 1975, it was a huge international phenomenon -- one that inspired everything from adoration to resentment.
While it is inaccurate to claim that any one artist single-handedly invented disco, certain artists did a lot to bring it about. White and Hayes certainly deserve some credit, as do Kenny Gamble & Leon Huff -- the Philly-based producing/songwriting team that founded Philadelphia International Records and gave us countless soul hits in the '70s. Some Philadelphians will argue that the first real, honest-to-God disco single came in 1972, when Chicago soul singer Jerry "The Ice Man" Butler provided his hit version of Gamble & Huff's "One Night Affair." Butler, who was a member of the Impressions before he became a full-time solo artist in 1960, wasn't the first to record "One Night Affair"; the O'Jays recorded the original version in 1969. But Butler's version became a bigger hit and is a lot more danceable -- fast, syncopated and hypnotic, Butler's single drove dance floors wild and sounds like a blueprint for so many disco-soul recordings that came after 1972. It also sounds like a blueprint for a lot of '80s and '90s house music; the more soul-minded house vocalists (such as Ten City, Adeva, Chanelle and Jeanne Harris) owe the Ice Man a huge debt of gratitude.
However, no one was calling "One Night Affair" a disco single in 1972; it was a few years later that the term disco caught on. Disco is short for discotheque -- what are now called dance clubs were known as discotheques in the '60s and early '70s. By the mid-'70s, the term disco had two meanings; it referred to a very danceable offshoot of northern soul as well as nightclubs where people went to dance. (Disco is also the Spanish and Italian word for record). And by that time, it was obvious that disco was party music first and foremost. In contrast to all of the sociopolitical soul records that came out in the early '70s -- gems like Marvin Gaye's "Inner City Blues," Curtis Mayfield's "Freddie's Dead," Gil Scott-Heron's "The Bottle" and the O'Jays' "For the Love of Money" -- most disco lyrics were about love, sex, partying or dancing. There were rare exceptions, however; Machine's 1979 cult classic "There But for the Grace of God Go I" demonstrated that a disco-soul single could pack a strong sociopolitical punch. The gem vividly describes the struggles that a Puerto Rican couple faces when they raise their daughter in the mean streets of the Bronx; touching on issues like racism, drugs, poverty and crime, "There But for the Grace of God Go I" was far from the usual shake-your-booty fare that disco was known for. Lyrically, Machine's song is as every bit as compelling and hard-hitting as anything that political punk agitators like the Sex Pistols, the Clash and Sham 69 came out with in the late '70s.
But "There But for the Grace of God Go I," which became a minor hit, was an anomaly. The most famous disco anthems -- such as the Trammps' "Disco Inferno", Chic's "Good Times," the Bee Gees' "Night Fever," KC & the Sunshine Band's "Shake Your Booty" and the Andrea True Connection's "More, More, More" -- were about pure, unapologetic escapism and narcissistic fun.
During the disco era -- which was roughly 1975-1979 -- it was evident that some disco artists were more soul-minded than others. Gloria Gaynor, Double Exposure, Loleatta Holloway, Sister Sledge, Vicki Sue Robinson, Linda Clifford, the Trammps and the late Sylvester were the essence of disco-soul -- they never forgot disco's soul roots, and they brought plenty of gospel-influenced grit to the dance floor. But the European disco sound, although funky in its own way, was more pop and less gritty; Donna Summer (who was exalted as "the Queen of Disco"), the Village People, the Silver Convention, Cerrone, Love & Kisses, the Munich Machine and producer Giorgio Moroder were among the artists who defined Euro-disco in the late '70s. Not all of those artists were actually from Europe -- Summer and the Village People were American -- but all of them embraced the European disco sound. Some would argue that Kraftwerk was the first European disco act, and the seminal German group certainly had a major impact on Euro-disco -- not to mention techno, synth-pop, hip-hop, trance, tribal and all kinds of electronic music. Kraftwerk wrote the book on what is now called electronica.
Of course, there was no law stating a late '70s disco artist had to be either totally disco-soul or totally Euro-disco. The distinctive, highly influential Chic, for example, had no problem combining disco-soul, Euro-disco and funk. And even though Summer was part of Euro-disco, she definitely had soul roots.
Although millions of disco records were sold in the late '70s, there were some people who resented disco vehemently -- mostly in the rock world. From punk, new wave and heavy metal to progressive rock and southern rock, numerous rock artists railed against disco during the Jimmy Carter years. The "death to disco" or "disco sucks" movement became quite venomous, and it turned downright ugly when a DJ at a Chicago rock station encouraged listeners to smash disco records in a park. What inspired such hysteria? Perhaps it had to do with economics more than anything; rockers who saw disco artists as competitors feared that they would cut into their profits or even put them out of business. Some disco supporters viewed "death to disco" as a racist, homophobic movement -- in other words, so-called "angry white males" railing against an art form that came out of African-American culture and became extremely popular in the gay community. But then, many of the British punk rockers who hated disco with a passion were enthusiastic supporters of reggae -- an idiom that is about as pro-black and anti-racist as it gets. Whatever the motivations behind the "death to disco" movement, not all rockers were disco bashers in the late '70s. The Rolling Stones, Blondie and David Bowie were among disco's defenders, and their actions spoke even louder than their words -- the Stones' "Miss You," Blondie's "Heart of Glass" and Bowie's "Golden Years" were obviously aimed at the dance floor. So was Rod Stewart's 1978 smash " Do Ya Think I'm Sexy?," which went down in history as a shining example of a rocker providing a disco classic. And of course, the Bee Gees -- one of the top disco acts of the late '70s -- were a pop-rock band long before they were a disco band. The more enlightened '70s rockers saw no reason why rock and disco couldn't co-exist, and ultimately, they did.
Conventional wisdom has it that disco ended with the '70s -- that disco was dead and buried by the time Ronald Reagan was sworn in as president of the U.S. in early 1981. But truth be told, disco was alive and well throughout the '80s and '90s and continues to thrive in the 21st Century. The main thing that changed after the '70s (other than the production style) was the terminology; during the Reagan years, "dance-pop" or "dance music" became the new names for what was essentially disco. The term disco became unfashionable in the early '80s, but the basic disco beat survived -- and dance clubs continued to do plenty of business. Hi-NRG (an outgrowth of '70s Euro-disco), Latin freestyle and deep house -- all of which were popular in the '80s and '90s -- are essentially forms of disco. Expose, Madonna, Kylie Minogue, Soul II Soul, Inner City, the Cover Girls and countless others kept disco fever alive in the '80s and '90s even though they were called dance-pop instead of disco. And in the 21st Century, plenty of dance-pop singles have had a disco mentality, such as Minogue's "Can't Get You Out of My Head" and DJ Sammy & Yanou's unlikely 2002 remake of Bryan Adams' "Heaven". That isn't to say that all post-'70s dance music is disco-based -- a lot of electronic rave music (such as techno) has an in-your-face, rock-like aggression that sets it apart from the softer, more melodic styles of dance-pop. But it isn't hard to see the parallels between "Can't Get You Out of My Head" and the '70s recordings of Donna Summer and the Silver Convention. And if one agrees that Butler's 1972 recording of "One Night Affair" was an early example of disco-soul, it could be argued that disco celebrated its 30th birthday in 2002.
Love it or hate it, disco outlasted the '70s and is alive and well in the 21st Century. Disco lost its name, but it never lost the beat.
Recommended Recordings:
Donna Summer, The Donna Summer Anthology (Casablanca)
Donna Summer, A Love Triology (Casablanca)
Donna Summer, Four Seasons of Love (Casablanca)
Village People, The Best of the Village People (Casablanca)
Chic, The Very Best of Chic (Rhino)
Chic, C'est Chic (Atlantic)
Loleatta Holloway, Greatest Hits (The Right Stuff)
Silver Convention, Save Me (Midsong International)
Various Artists, Saturday Night Fever: The Original Movie Soundtrack (Polydor)
Double Exposure, 10 Percent (Salsoul)
KC & the Sunshine Band, The Best of KC & the Sunshine Band (Rhino)
Andrea True Connection, More, More, More: The Best of the Andrea True Connection (The Right Stuff)
Various Artists, The Disco Years, Vol. 1: Turn the Beat Around (1974-1978) (Rhino)
