Disco's Revenge (2024) Movie Script

1
Love always wins.
Disco is love.
Disco is a celebration of love.
Disco is a celebration of life.
A celebration of hope.
A celebration of humanity.
That's what it is.
It felt like family,
in the disco sound.
Everybody supported everybody.
That was the thing that was
so cool in the seventies.
Disco felt, to me, more
revolutionary than the Panthers.
During the disco movement,
you could come
from any background
and you just fit in
and nobody felt uncomfortable.
Everybody was... was down
for everybody.
And it was like, "Let's make
the best out of a bad time."
And that's what we did.
And as it went away, the world
got more divided.
Us rock and rollers
here in Chicago,
think Disco sucks!
Disco sucks!
This is now
officially the world's largest
anti-disco rally.
We took all the disco records
that you brought tonight,
we got 'em in a giant box.
And we're gonna blow 'em up
real good.
Disco sucks!
Lost in Music
by Sister Sledge
Can't take away my music
I'm caught up in my music
No turning back,
uh-uh
Lost, ooh
We're lost in music
Caught in the trap
No turning back
We're lost in music
We're lost in music
Caught in the trap
No turning back
No turning back
We're lost in music
We're lost in music
From a very young age,
I knew that I was attracted
to the same sex.
Being gay was not okay,
especially in Brooklyn.
I would get beat up regularly.
'Faggot' was a word
I heard almost daily.
It makes you feel scared
all the time.
There were no celebrity
gay people.
There were no out stars.
There was no one on TV
that was gay.
I'm living in that world.
And a friend of mine,
when I'm 13, says to me,
"You know, there's a place I
found, the West Village."
And I went down
to the West Village,
and here's this place
with men, same sex,
women, same sex,
talking together,
laughing together,
even holding hands and
walking down the street.
I was amazed.
New York and Greenwich Village
was probably the hippest,
most liberal place to grow up.
My parents' friends were
bebop musicians.
You know, I could come home
and I'd see Nina Simone
or Thelonious Monk
or Miles Davis
hanging out at our crib.
That was like,
pretty normal stuff.
I'm a street queen,
Christopher Street Queen.
A lot of us didn't have
a steady place to live.
Our gay community could be gay
wherever they were.
And New York was the Mecca.
They came in such numbers,
and the music was
being so vocal.
Ooh-ooh
There's something
in the air
Being a Greenwich Village kid,
a hippie, downtown kid,
I started to become a little bit
more politicized.
They had formed a section called
Lower Manhattan
Black Panther Party.
All power to the people.
And I wanted to be in with them.
So there was every kind
of march that would go past
my apartment and school
every day,
be it the teachers strike
or women's lib
or gay lib, whatever.
There's still laws on the book
that are preventing us from
being who we are.
Like two people of the same sex
cannot dance together
on the dance floor.
There were a couple of others,
you know, sodomy.
All that stuff was
against the law.
Right now
Right now
Right
Right now
And there was a place
called The Stonewall.
It was a bar.
The cops go into Stonewall,
they bust the place because
people are dancing together.
And they regularly do this.
They start charging people,
and they take them out
to a paddy wagon
that's waiting outside.
The revolution will
not be televised
No
The gay community
had endured it,
and endured it, and endured it.
And that night at Stonewall,
they just chose not to
endure it anymore.
The collective
anger unleashed us
and we were pushing and shoving.
It got larger and larger,
and more people were coming,
and then they set fires to the
trashcans and what have you.
And it turned into
five days of riots.
On the second night,
I walk out of the subway
and Sixth Avenue,
there's people blocking
the traffic.
Hey, hey!
We don't over-populate!
And that's like unheard of.
And there's this guy going
with around a clipboard.
"Can you get arrested?
Can you get arrested?"
I was like, "No way.
I can't get arrested!"
I don't know who
was organizing this,
but they were ready
like Freddie.
Obviously, if we're
to obtain all the rights
we deserve, we have to be
willing to fight for them.
We need an alternative
to the mafia bars,
and an alternative to just
sitting on the stoops.
I said will not be televised
It just won't be televised
They rioted every night
until Lindsay,
who was the mayor,
came on and said,
"We're going to do
everything we can.
We're going to change this law."
The revolution
is gonna be live
In 1971, it led to
that law being repealed.
That was the one thing that
opened the ability of gay clubs
to survive legally more than
anything else that happened.
I was really young
when I started DJ-ing.
I was like 15, 16.
I DJ-ed in my room.
Sweet 16s, school dances,
parties.
I was always attracted to music
that was very soulful.
For the most part, it was
up-tempo R&B.
Back in the day,
everybody had a house party.
House parties put people in
touch with music so much.
They had the little record
players, the little 45s
where the record drops.
I was heavily influenced
by Gamble and Huff
from Philadelphia International,
and all the records they made.
The O'Jays or Harold Melvin
and the Blue Notes
or MFSB,
which is Mother, Father,
Sister, Brother.
Philly was a moment in time.
Rhythm & Blues before that,
there wasn't a lot of
instrumentation
because they didn't spend
that much money
putting those songs together.
Well, Philly developed its
own unique sound:
the use of lush strings,
a gospel inflection to
a lot of the vocals.
Urban sophistication
at its best.
And it's music that literally
drove people to dance.
Those grooves were so infectious
that you could play anything
by Gamble and Huff,
and you'd get an
immediate reaction
and people just vibe to it.
The root of like all dance music
that's on the soulful side.
We cut and wrote songs
that people can relate to,
like Love Is The Message.
These are songs that bring
people together.
So we came in there
and we banged out hits.
A lot of the songs were slow,
like The Love I Lost.
This was not disco music.
This was basically R&B stuff.
Back then, most of the time
they looked for the drummer
to set the pace, and they
deliver the grooves.
They weren't...
they didn't really tell
drummers what to play.
I say, "Look, let's put this,
let's put this in
another groove."
That's the groove that I used
on The Love I Lost.
They weren't really a disco
group until I came in
with that groove.
That's the 'four on the floor',
that's a walking beat.
The bass drum, to me,
is people walking like...
And the high-hat, to me,
is a melody.
Earl Young is the beat
of disco, no doubt about it.
What he did with The Love I Lost
when it came out,
the epitome of the club drummer.
The standard disco beat
with the bass drum,
the 'four on the floor.'
Now you've got to add
the high-hat next.
You can add it open or closed.
I'll do it closed first.
Now I'll do it with it open.
Now I'm going to add
the snare drum.
That's basic disco.
Bad luck.
We brought soul to New York.
Little clubs in New York
supported us
from the very beginning.
I was always
really drawn to the stories
of records, about records,
but about concerts
and things that I was
interested in.
I wrote about disco
really early on,
before it had a name.
I started going to several clubs
in the early Seventies.
I realized that there was a
whole other underground
of music.
I'm on Christopher Street
and I'm hearing this music,
and I'm going, "What is this?"
you know.
And I'm hearing this music,
and every time someone
comes out, I'm saying,
"What's that song?
What's that song?"
Radio was not playing
this music.
The most obvious
turning point for me
was going to
David Mancuso's Loft,
where I heard a lot of music
that I really loved,
that I hadn't heard
anywhere else.
I had heard that
The Loft was this place,
it was underground,
it was private.
You had to know someone
to get in.
You had to be a member, or you
had to know somebody
who was already a member.
But it never felt exclusive
the way clubs later did.
It was in the winter.
I was at a party
and they were playing
this really lame like
Rock and Roll music
that no one was dancing to.
And I started putting on some of
the Soul music that I had.
A girl who was there said,
"Hey, you want to go
to The Loft with me?"
That's how I got invited
to The Loft.
And these guys held the
key to me going to The Loft.
And they said, "Listen,
do you have a problem
with gay people?
This place is not all gay,
but there are going to be
a substantial number
of gay people there.
You're going to see guys
dancing with guys.
And if that bothers you,
forget we invited you."
And I said, "Oh no, I'm going!"
It was 647 Broadway.
I'll never forget that address.
And it looks like a
broken-down factory.
So the door opens,
the stairs are all rickety.
And the thing about The Loft
was you knew them
even though you didn't know them
because you had one thing
in common - the music.
$2.99 each, and the door opens,
and it's dark in there.
It's, I mean, I couldn't
see anything.
When we go in, the door closes
behind and it's dark.
And then all of a sudden, I see
that huge mirrored ball.
It was big,
and the spots are flying
around the wall,
the snare hits...
a bright, bright light flashes.
Everyone started screaming!
The sound was gorgeous.
It was beautiful.
Like I was at a symphony.
Like I was in a theater.
Okay, so there's this white guy,
with long hair, who looks like
Jesus, that's playing music.
He knew how to take that
song from beginning,
middle to end,
take you on a journey to bring
you up and bring you down,
and bring you up, and bring you
down, and bring you up.
He had a method to his madness,
which we really appreciated
because it challenged us
as dancers to go to that level.
Anything that
you're doing with audio
must be as pure as possible.
We're all spiritually connected.
You can't capture
anything that's free.
Free in spirit.
I went to The Loft.
I'd never seen anything like it
because it was like...
we were in a party,
but it was in his house.
So it's like car keys were
there, the mail was there,
dishes in the sink,
and it'd be three to four
hundred people in there dancing.
And it... It was not Studio 54,
it was a loft.
So it wasn't something
like, you know,
some grand sort of place.
It was a loft, but great music.
He didn't mix beat to beat,
so the songs would end,
and then the audience
would just clap,
and then he'd play
the next song.
I had never
seen anything like this.
The Loft was magic.
It was very simply magic.
I loved it. I loved
everything about it.
David used to always say,
"If you can get groups of people
from different backgrounds,
different income groups,
different races,
creeds, colors, sexuality.
If you can put them all in a
room and get them to dance,
that's the beginning
of social progress."
That was the interesting
part of it,
and that's where
people connected.
That's very important
to me, okay?
And The Loft was a community.
If you didn't have money, as
long as you had an invitation,
you got in.
The Loft.
There would be no Nile Rodgers
if it wasn't for those clubs.
I mean, this underground
New York club scene
was phenomenal.
And that, to me is one
of the greatest things
that came out of this
thing called disco.
It was a leveler
in a way, for...
for different people
who had differences,
that they could come
together and dance
and enjoy themselves,
and love the same music.
The first
wave was the R&B,
then Rock and Roll,
and then the Boogaloo
came along.
What's interesting about
the influence of Latin music,
it was part geographic.
Growing up in East Harlem,
you know, we had everybody.
The Italians, Jews,
Blacks, Puerto Ricans.
We all had to get along.
And music engulfed
the whole neighborhood
because you could hear it coming
out of the fire escapes,
people singing out
of the subways.
It started in 1972
from the Latino kids
in the Bronx
getting away from doing salsa,
which was a quote unquote
"dance that was done
by their parents."
The younger kids didn't
want to do that,
and they figured out
how to do the Hustle.
I recorded my first songs,
which were Boogaloo songs.
I started to get away
from that style
and I kept looking
for different things.
I started to attend
the nightclubs,
which nobody was doing
back then.
One of the first places
that really kind of stuck
in my mind was a place
called the Sanctuary.
Francis Grasso.
He was one of the people
to play music
in a kind of mixed concept.
To hear records segue
into another
was completely
something different
that nobody had been doing.
And then I saw kids dancing
with one another.
It didn't matter who you were.
They were doing freestyle.
It was no set movement
in what they were doing.
And I said, "Whoa!"
And you can imagine what was
going through my mind.
A lot of people didn't know that
I didn't need the radio.
I could influence people
through clubs.
From that early era of clubs,
'cause they didn't call it
a disco or a club,
it was, you know,
you come to a party.
In the same way as Rock and Roll
had to be given a name,
instead of "Race music",
it became Rock and Roll,
music that was house music,
that was dance music
that we danced to became
known as "Disco."
Vince Aletti wrote an article
and coined the phrase "Disco."
And Vince manages
to capture the sense
of what those spaces were like,
and the effect that
that music had.
What did feel unique, it felt
like you were hearing,
you know, somebody's
work of art.
It's one of the things that
really made me want
to think more seriously
about club music,
and about the talent that it
took to be a really good DJ.
Funky Nassau by The
Beginning of the End
Nassau's gone funky
Nassau's gone soul
Oh yeah, funky Nassau
Funky Nassau
Funky Nassau
Funky Nassau
Funky Nassau
Funky Nassau
Huh
I'm seeing the
invention of dance floor things.
And I'm understanding that
this is a very new
kind of industry.
I started playing
records in 1971,
and that took me
into the winter of '72.
I start thinking the only way
I'm going to do something
like The Loft, where I can
really create atmosphere
like David was doing,
is to own the place.
That's the only way
it will happen.
And I opened in
February of 1973.
I was still 17.
This was the back entrance
to The Gallery.
This was not here.
People would come outside
because it would be hot inside,
especially in the summer,
and they would hang
out over here.
Initially, any bar would
throw two speakers up
and be a club.
This, we walked in and we
painted the canvas.
And a lot of people call
it the first disco,
and it really was.
It was really the first space
that was stepping forward
in the design of clubs
was The Gallery.
It's gonna rain, yeah
Oh no
It's gonna rain, yeah
Oh no
It's gonna rain, yeah
I can see the rain, y'all
It's gonna rain, yeah
I can see the rain, yeah
It's gonna rain, yeah
I can feel the rain
It's gonna rain, yeah
Oh, I can feel the rain,
yeah
It's gonna rain, yeah
My body's soaking wet, y'all
It's gonna rain, yeah
Oh, my body's soaking wet,
y'all
It's gonna rain, yeah
Oh, my body's soaking wet
Nicky Siano,
I think was one of
the Wild Men of disco.
Nicky was just,
you know, out there,
and his crowd was out there
along with him.
If it was a
big change from one record
to another, that was fabulous.
Everybody would be jumping up
on the floor and screaming
like a mass orgasm, verbally.
I remember this guy who walked
in the first night we opened.
And he goes,
"The future!"
That's what he says.
Let me tell you, this place
is a joint.
This is the kind of place
you could bring
any one of your cool friends.
They have all types of people,
they have people who dance,
people pop up and down.
You can get high,
stay here all night.
You can live at The Gallery
every Saturday night.
I mean, there were a few
gay clubs in the city,
but, you know, there was kinda
sort of stereotypical gay clubs.
The Gallery was something that
was completely different.
Myself and Larry Levan
were probably
the most popular black kids
hanging out.
And I hired Frankie at the end
of that first night
to work for me as my decorator.
And he brought Larry along,
and he said,
"This guy's a little bit crazy,
but he's really talented."
And I said, "Okay, we can
use the help."
Larry and Frankie came
up under Nicky's tutelage.
There were days that all three
of us were in the booth
and he was teaching us
how to actually operate
the equipment,
how to listen to music
and what to listen for.
And eventually they become DJs.
Frankie, the Godfather of House.
Larry, the Paradise Garage.
Listening to Nicky,
he spins a story.
He always stressed to us,
"You need to know your music."
Because people who
went to the clubs -
back then in the beginning -
heard basically the same
songs at every club
because they were only so many
songs to be played
that were danceable,
that we liked.
Walter Gibbons, Jellybean
and other DJs
used to always hang
around my booth
to see what I was playing.
I would be there with
a pad and a pen
and every record that he played
that I didn't know what it was,
I'd go up and ask him
what it is.
I was such a pain.
He talks about it to me
what he sees me.
"I'm going to play this record.
I know this kid's going
to come up here
and ask me what it is."
And then in the later days,
they would hang around
my booth to see if I passed out
and they needed a DJ
to fill in for me.
I didn't look at
what genre it was.
Was it danceable?
Did it have a musical break?
And if it's vocal, does it
have a message?
Soul Makossa by Manu Dibango
Soul Makossa,
that record became
a huge hit for the DJs
and for club music.
And without any airplay, it
started to climb to sales chart.
Record companies
started noticing it.
Atlantic Records picks up
the import,
puts it out and starts
promoting it.
In the bottom of all
this are the radio stations.
Radio stations were
a very powerful network,
and they were being
forced to play records
that they hadn't wanted
to play before.
These were records that were
just part of the fabric
of New York City dance culture,
as well as the hip-hop culture.
They were just big
New York records.
Lady Marmalade by Labelle
Hey sister, go sister,
go sister, go sister
Hey sister, go sister,
go sister, go sister
He met Marmalade down
in old New Orleans
Struttin' her stuff
on the street
She said, Hello, hey Joe
You wanna give it a go?
Yeah, gitchie-gitchie
yeah-yeah-da-da
Gitchie-gitchie
yeah-yeah here
At the time, we weren't
trying to make a song
that would fit into some
sort of category.
Creole Lady Marmalade
For LaBelle,
the Continental Baths
was really most significant
in terms of gay nightlife.
It was really a bathhouse
where guys went to meet.
They were in towels
as we performed,
and we were like... there.
When you're that
close to people,
it was a very call and response
type of interaction.
And you're singing and
they're responding.
It is like being in church.
Marmalade
Voulez-vous coucher
avec moi?
We were kind of
matching our audience.
The more flamboyant we became,
the more flamboyant they became.
Of course, we couldn't
let them look better
than us on stage, so...
Okay, when the music
starts getting big,
and stank, meaning funky,
you gotta start dancing, okay?
Do the best you can.
Oh!
Gitchie-gitchie
yeah-yeah-da-da
Gitchie-gitchie
yeah-yeah here
Mocha-choco-lata-yeah-yeah
The leaning into all of the
fantastical costumes and stuff,
that's queer stuff.
I loved LaBelle.
I mean, that sound that they
had was so exciting.
It was everything that we stood
for in the early Seventies.
Voulez-vous
Coucher
Avec moi?
Babe
Up until the FBI
basically disbanded
the Panthers,
the Black Panther Party
was probably
the most loving situation
that I had been in
with a group of people.
My girlfriend, Paula,
she and I were walking
up Eighth Street.
When we got to Eighth Street
and Broadway,
a pop-up disco happened
and we walked in there, and
they played three songs.
Donna Summer,
"Love to Love You, Baby,"
The Village People,
"San Francisco,"
and Eddie Kendricks, "Girl You
Need a Change of Mind."
And we hear...
I love to love you, baby.
I...
And it was just like,
"Wow, what is this shit?"
I'm telling you, man, for a
brother like me...
that was like... like the first
time you have sex
and you're flying.
And then Eddie Kendricks.
"I am for women's rights,
but I want equal nights."
You know, so it
was all political.
Love to love you, baby
Mmm!
I love to love you, baby
The 12-inch record had
just become this new format,
and they were really long,
and I had never really been
in an environment
where the music didn't stop.
This night, nothing stopped.
Love to love you, baby
Oh
A totally disparate crowd.
Gay people, straight people.
Asian people. Black people.
Puerto Rican people.
Everybody was dancing
and everybody was
having a good time.
It's magnetism that was
from this disco world
that people just couldn't help,
that they were just
being drawn in.
To be a disenfranchised
Black child
and to grow up, and you
become this teenager.
You walk into this joint
and you know everybody
is down with you.
It almost brought tears
to my eyes.
I couldn't believe it.
And I looked at my girlfriend,
and I said,
"This shit is more revolutionary
than the party.
They're getting people
who don't normally
associate together to be down."
So I called Bernard up.
Bernard Edwards,
my former partner who passed
away some time ago.
I said, "This is the music
I want to play."
And two weeks later, I wrote
Everybody Dance.
"Doo doo, doo doo.
Clap your hands."
Nile and Bernard, they were
going to start this new group
and they were looking for
a female vocalist.
Mind you, now, by the
time I hit New York,
I had worked with a number
of bands on the road
and worked with The Spinners.
So I'm a little critical,
you know.
When I heard Nile, Bernard
and Tony play,
I was blown away.
Bernard loved my sense of rhythm
and what I could do.
And he just said, "Man, if you
learned how to chuck."
"What do you mean, chuck?"
He says, "Well, let me
just show you."
And he picked up the guitar,
and he just was just doing
something like...
And I was like going...
He said, "No, no, no,
don't do that."
He said, "You got to keep the
16th notes going all the time."
Imagine now the drums just go,
"Boom, boom, boom, boom."
And you...
The engineer who recorded us
was also a DJ at one of the
coolest clubs in New York,
and it was a downtown club
where all of the new
black urban professionals -
or we call them 'Buppies' -
would go.
About two or three weeks go by
and I get a phone call,
and he says,
"Man, I need you to come
down to the Night Owl."
I was like going, "Dude, I can't
get into the Night Owl.
They're not going to let me in.
You know, I only have, like,
jeans and a plaid jacket
or something."
He said, "Trust me, bro.
Just tell them
that you wrote
Everybody Dance."
I said, "That's... okay. Cool."
So I go to Night Owl and
the door man goes,
"Hey, my man, you can't come
in here dressed like that."
And I said, "Oh, I know. But
Robert told me to tell you
that I wrote Everybody Dance."
"Everybody Dance? My man,
come here. Come on inside."
He takes me inside.
The woman who's now going
to take the money says,
"Whoa, whoa, you can't come in
here dressed like that."
"He wrote Everybody Dance."
"Everybody Dance? Yo, come
on in here, my brother."
So now I'm thinking that there's
some kind of joke going on.
I get into the club. I don't
know how the DJ spotted me.
He saw me, and right away, he
put on Everybody Dance.
And just from the drum fill...
You heard this
bloodcurdling scream.
Everybody - "Oh!!"
packed the dance floor.
And I went, "What?"
I couldn't believe my eyes.
I walked over to him.
He was giggling like crazy.
Everybody Dance by Chic
Do-do-do, clap your hands,
clap your hands
Then the clubs, it's,
you know, it's instant.
Folks wouldn't stop dancing.
Everybody Dance.
I mean, that was...
When you hear it,
you have to dance.
He played it.
He then played it again.
He then played it again.
He played it again.
He played it for at least -
and I'm not saying this for
dramatic purposes -
played it at least an hour.
That was my first time hearing
my first pop composition
out in the real world.
I was blown away and
I don't think I've ever
had that feeling again.
I've probably been
chasing it all my life.
Everybody dance
Do-do-do, clap your hands,
clap your hands
That unison singing was like
"What is happening?!"
They weren't in harmony.
The voice sounded like
one voice at times.
It was that connected.
Glamor went hand in hand
with disco music.
Nile wanted it to be
a stylish group.
This beautiful,
fashion-oriented Black crowd.
"Wow, we want to be their band!"
The labels understood how to
make better dance records.
Being seven years old
in Wellsville, Ohio,
and hearing Knock on Wood
for the first time,
I lost my mind. I was like,
"What on Earth is this?"
Knock on Wood
by Amii Stewart
Lightning
The way you love me
is frightening
I think I better knock
Knoc
I feel seen in it.
On wood
Baby
Disco was a blessing.
It wasn't an A&R guy that was
deciding what the music was.
It was people because
it started in the clubs.
And I think that's a reason why
so many people broke through.
The door was wide open for
a lot of talented people
to break through, a lot of them
African-Americans,
a lot of them women.
It opened up a door
that I don't think
would have normally been open,
and the record labels
couldn't resist the fact
that there was something
going on here.
A lot of the music that was made
during that period
had something to say.
People were not just, not just
doing the sign, Y M C A,
but people saw it as like a
music you just jump around to
rather than looking at the
deeper meaning.
And there were other songs,
other examples.
I Will Survive
by Gloria Gaynor
I was petrified
Kept thinking
I could never live
Without you by my side
But then I spent
so many nights
Thinking how you
did me wrong
And I grew strong
And I learned how
to get along
And so you're back
From outer space
Probably the,
I would say the greatest
disco era song ever.
That is like, "You're not going
to mess with me anymore.
Whatever you've done,
I'm done with that.
I will not be going there
because I will survive.
No matter what you do to me,
I'm going to survive."
Just turn around now
'Cause you're not
welcome anymore
So in the beginning,
disco was the thing
that was happening.
Hip-hop really didn't
become this thing,
literally "Hip-Hop," until
the early Eighties.
What went on in the Seventies
was a combination
of different things.
When you have records like
The Mexican by Babe Ruth
or Love Is The Message by MFSB
or Bra by Cymande,
these records were getting
played in the hip-hop scene
as well as at The Loft,
or Nicky Siano's Gallery.
And hip-hop.
I had already been doing it
up in the Bronx.
Uptown, there'd be
very few whites,
mostly Blacks and Latinos
where we came from.
Versus downtown,
blacks and whites
in the room, jamming.
I came up with a system
where I would take
the drum breakdown
of particular songs
in the areas of pop, rock,
jazz, blues, funk.
We've got our own thing
We've got it
We've got our own thing
We've got it
A lot of those songs
were quote unquote
"disco songs."
Disco records, they had
heat to them,
but I had to do, like,
serious research.
Got to be Real
by Cheryl Lynn
What you find, ah
What you feel now
What you know, ah
To be real
The disco 12-inch, I would
put it up with a light,
and if I put it up with a light
and the shiniest part
was where the least band
members were playing
with the drummer.
And I would put it down there,
and that's where
the break would live.
I would take these particular
areas where the drummer
had a minute to solo
and that there,
with duplicate copies of it, I
would manually cut and paste it,
and extend that area,
so that I can come up with a
music bed for the breakers,
and then later the rappers.
Frisco Disco
by Eastside Connection
Ladies and gentlemen
Welcome aboard
Disco Airlines Flight 78
With disco you can't
go wrong
Hip-hop and
the industry owes a lot
to what that scene, that
movement created.
As far as DJ culture
is concerned,
this thing was brand new.
The whole phenomenon
of taking a record
and segueing it into
another record.
These guys had the ability to
keep the music going
was a revelation unto itself.
And then other innovations came
and built on top of that.
All right. I just want to say
that there are some DJs
who are classics and
some who are not.
The DJs, they gave me a chance.
You know, they sort of, they let
me in their inner circle.
I was the first person to ever
substitute for David,
nobody else ever did.
And I said to myself,
"You know, there's two
turntables here,
and there are two, there's a
knob on each turntable.
What the hell do I
need a mixer for?
Just, you know, fade one in
and fade the other one out,
and do it at the same time."
And everybody was like,
"Crazy. Wow, wow, wow.
There's a mix at The Loft!"
The blend,
this is how you do it.
You take the needle and you
listen in your headphones.
You know these two records
have a very similar beat,
and you have a turntable that
only goes 2% one way
and 2% the other way.
So it's got to be
close to the beat.
And then you keep putting
the needle on the record
and you hear it kind of match,
and then you bring volume up,
and you turn the other one down.
And then I said to
a friend, I said,
"How do I hold the record?"
He said, "Oh, put the 45
underneath the LP,
it'll slip on the LP."
And sure enough it did.
And I slowly was able
to start beat matching.
Once I had a dream of
having three turntables,
and in the middle of a change
there would be a sound effect.
The next week
I got a third turntable.
Nicky would play
Love Is The Message.
He had two, three turntables,
and he would loop it, loop it.
When you would get to
the break of the record,
Nicky would just play it, and
everybody started chanting,
"Turn this motherfucker out,
turn this motherfucker out!"
And that was ecstasy for me.
I would match up lyrics
in songs to create...
And sounds. And the lights
would match the music.
You don't get that anymore.
Those tweeters, boy.
You did all the highs.
It was wonderful.
The bass made you feel like you
were getting done royally.
That was a very sexual thing.
After a week of being,
I guess, a busboy,
a waitress, a hairdresser,
a dancer,
a mother, a husband, you know,
any of those things.
And then get it off,
get rid of it, you know,
and dance it away,
get excited about
watching other people.
Just... I was a club bunny.
I went to Mudd Club,
I went to Danceteria,
I went to Studio 54,
I went to Paradise Garage.
The DJ.
I probably went to go see
the most was Larry Levan.
His mixing ability was
quite incredible.
I was in my own world,
I was dancing for hours
and hours,
and I got educated to like...
Supernature.
I never heard Supernature
on radio,
but I heard it at the
Paradise Garage.
By Cerrone, just this
great track to me
that took you in different
dimensions.
And it seemed like that lasted
like two hours, that record.
There was this freedom.
You were just in a sea of people
moving to the same beat,
joyously and very,
almost tribal.
He was charming and reckless,
and he could get away with
anything in the Garage.
It was his house.
What the record company
felt was that we had
this magical fairy dust that we
could sprinkle over anybody.
They offered us Bette Midler.
They offered us
the Rolling Stones.
They offered us all
these big acts.
We were like, "Sh... we're going
to tell Keith Richards
what to play? I'm going to tell
Mick Jagger what to sing?"
So we basically said, "Look,
instead of giving us
the most popular group,
why don't you give us
the least popular group?"
They literally said, "Give us
some obscure group
that no one knows."
We didn't have any hit records.
I would have records out that
were never played
on the radio.
They were played in other
countries, but never at home.
Jerry Greenberg started
describing us,
"You got to meet these girls,
they're family.
They flock together
like birds of a feather
whenever they come
up to the label."
He said that they were
like family to us.
That's all we needed to hear.
We had just been in
Germany recording
with Silver Convention,
"Fly, robin, fly!
Up, up to the sky!"
And now the "Yowsah,
Yowsah, Yowsah"
people want to work with you.
And I remember saying,
"I don't know..."
We Are Family
by Sister Sledge
We are family
I got all my sisters with me
When we worked with Nile Rodgers
and Bernard Edwards,
it was different from
any other session.
They knew what they wanted.
We are family
And we were just finishing
up the last lyrics
to We Are Family
as she walks in,
she hears it, "What is this?"
Uh, "This is your album."
I wasn't allowed to hear
any of the songs
until it was time to record it.
Everyone can see
we're together
As we walk on by
And
I can honestly say the first
time I heard Greatest Dancer,
and We Are Family,
or any of those songs
was the first time the
public heard them.
Because I didn't know how they
were going to come out.
Kathy pulled me aside.
Because I was like
this goofy... 15 then,
16 by the time the record
came out, with braces.
And I would always ask him.
"Nile, is this ever going
to be on the radio?"
And I looked her right
in the face, and I said,
"Yes, Kathy, I promise you this
is going to be on the radio."
I didn't know if it was going
to be on the radio,
but I felt it in my heart.
We are family
Get up everybody and sing
Sing it to me
He would always say,
"Just trust us,
like, we know what we're doing."
I remember waking up to...
you know,
because the alarm would go off
and the song would come on -
our song's being played on the
radio for the first time.
...in you and the things you do
You won't go wrong
Oh no, this is our
family jewel
I mean, Sister Sledge, that
album was the best album
we've ever written,
pound for pound.
Those are the best
collection of songs.
And man, she went out there
and tore those songs up.
Well, this is our first
really big break,
so we're taking advantage
of it, even if it is tiring.
They may be the only
group in the top ten
where two of the group still
have the bands on their teeth.
Isn't that interesting?
Yeah.
That's nice.
Can you imagine the
Bee Gees all coming out
with their hits and all having
bands on their teeth.
"Stayin Alive, Stayin Alive."
I think disco is something that
made us look really great,
that it really was one
of the first few times
that queer people, black folks,
and anyone in between
were able to really shine.
It was amazing to me as
someone who grew up
in the Fifties and Sixties,
to see what seemed like
genuine acceptance
of a gay culture at
the club level...
and not just curiosity,
but acceptance
and interest in gay life
through club life,
and through people
like Sylvester.
You Make Me Feel
by Sylvester
...I've been dancing
On the floor, darlin'
Sylvester might not have been
able to exist as an artist
in the Fifties.
Feel your body close...
He broke a whole
lot of really new ground.
Make me feel
It was a time when people
could be who they were,
and be free.
Sylvester is a forefather,
not only disco,
but of the queer expansion,
the non-binary of it all,
when there was
no language for it.
I was singing with Sylvester.
Originally we were doing
a lot of Top 40,
and that evolved
into a disco sound.
And I know you love me
Like you should
During that time,
there were those
that didn't want him
to be who he was.
Being a gay artist,
let alone a Black gay artist,
was something that
was very hidden.
They were out there,
but they were very closeted.
And they wanted to market
him as a straight artist,
you know, R&B, whatever.
And he wasn't having it.
And Sylvester was
the one that said,
"I'm not doing it.
I am who I am.
Accept me or, you know... bye!"
I feel real
I feel real
You Make Me Feel Mighty Real.
Sylvester had brought it to me
when it was a work in progress,
and I played it, and the
album went gold.
I still didn't really understand
what that meant.
I just knew, like...
I put it on,
people went crazy all the time.
But the fact that he gave me
a gold record for it, oh...
Was great.
My style and from,
where I come from
is so totally different
from another place.
It's like night and day.
No, I don't compare
myself to anyone.
That's why it's hard for me
to get a job sometimes.
I stand on that man's shoulders.
There would be no Billy...
If there wasn't a Sylvester.
I've been singing,
like, since I was a child.
Really. Gospel singing,
always singing in church
and stuff that.
But I still sing Gospel music
everywhere I go.
You make me feel
No matter
what I do, or where I go,
or what I'm into, it just
does not leave me.
It's just there.
That feeling, that sound
is just embedded in me,
and it just won't ever come out.
And I don't ever want
it to come out.
You make me feel
Hey
Mighty real
Hey
The shrieking that leaves you,
like, euphoric.
You know it's, it's like...
that's Gospel.
Mighty real
Everybody felt seen
in it, in the music.
You make me feel
Ooh-ooh-ooh
It's the fellowship.
A lot of people,
especially in disco,
they were ostracized
in those communities.
It doesn't mean that they still
don't have a love
for the Black church.
You make me feel
Mighty real
Yeah
Yeah
Ah
Yeah
Yeah
Ah
Yeah
Yeah
Mmm
Mmm
Oo
Look, nothing is, is pure and
utopian and fantastic,
but it was certainly as close
as I've ever seen.
Being a Black Panther and going,
"Man, all we wanted to
do was touch people.
All we wanted to do was
bring in the masses
and say, Man, we're one.
We're one America,
one army, even though we're
disparate people."
That's what we used to say,
"Power to the people."
And we met all the people.
And that's what disco gave us.
They gave us power
to all the people.
If you could dance.
So in the beginning, disco
was a cool thing,
before it became
over-commercialized,
watered down,
cornball. You feel me?
Because it was something
that we felt
like we made happen.
The very popular
and very lucrative
new business called Disco.
It's bigger than Elvis,
bigger than the Beatles.
And I saw the reaction of people
around New York,
and I saw hits being made
on the floor here.
150,000 singles were being sold
in the New York market
with very little radio play
on the pop stations.
All of a sudden, it was not
underground anymore.
It was commercially viable,
and people were making
mad money,
and it was like, "Well, if you
handle it the right way,
we can make more mad money."
And so it was like, you know...
Hey Jerry, what's the story?
You want a party,
you want to dance,
you want a great night out?
Come on down to Jerry's Disco.
These students are enrolled
in a ten week class
at Humber College.
Billboard Magazine now stages
two conventions a year
so promoters can promote
their products.
Once disco became a name,
a sellable thing that
record companies
wanted to make money off of,
it became so formulaic.
Just one bad record
after the other.
I don't think that 'hip'
can be a mass movement.
Everything became disco music,
for at least three years.
You know, it's like
anything else.
You know, familiarity
breeds contempt.
A lot of the songs, you know,
when I started shopping
for them,
they had "Disco! Disco!"
They would, the singer would
say that in the song.
And that was the part like, ugh,
we didn't want that part.
It was on the 12-inch,
"Disco 12-Inch."
That was kind of like
a "hell no" too.
Disco sucks. Disco is a disease.
Disco is fascism.
When Punk Magazine
first came out,
we were rebelling against
everything.
We wanted to be new.
The label of the editorial was -
in very bold letters -
"Death to Disco."
It was annoying because they
were believing the hype.
It was like, we fought so hard
to have something else heard
other than what
was on the radio.
Disco seemed to us to be
the quintessential music
of mediocrity.
And we said, "Where's the
great Rock and Roll?"
And the fashion of disco,
it looked like you know,
swingers at a Holiday Inn.
We didn't. We wanted to wear
T-shirts and sneakers
and black leather jackets.
And we had a big Fonz poster.
We loved the Fonz, you know.
He was what we aspired to be.
And listen, right from the head.
Start off with just snare
drum... or just bass drum.
Just bass drum, nothing else.
Leave this out.
Everything's going to be based
around the bass drum.
Okay. Let's get it as hot and as
pulsating as we can.
Yeah, that sounds bad!
It got to
a point where there was
just so much disco.
I mean, I was getting hundreds
of new releases a week
and I was DJing three
or four nights a week.
So I was constantly listening
to new stuff and going,
"This is not danceable.
Why is it on a 12-inch?
Why does it say 'disco'?"
That branding, you know,
"It's a disco tune,"
please. That started
making me sick.
It was all about sales.
It wasn't about the love
of the music
and how good it was.
It was just about money.
Have no fear, Paco is here.
Paco's my name,
and disco's my game.
We'll boogie down 'til
10 o'clock tonight
with the best disco songs
in the nation.
Over time,
when it sort of exploded
into the real "disco" period,
it became extreme.
The extremes of sexuality,
the extremes of drug abuse,
the extremes of, you know,
sort of individuals doing
harm to themselves.
You're offered all sorts
of drugs and drink,
and you're going to say no?
Please, you want to experiment
and have some fun.
You know, roulette.
"Come on, take this."
"I'll take the yellow one."
"That red one. What does it do?"
"You'll find out."
Ethyl Chloride is
something that tennis players
use if they have an injury
to numb them.
And people were spraying it on
rags and inhaling it,
and getting a buzz off of it.
So they would spray it
and give you the hankie,
and it was just out
of their mouth.
Yeah, they'd go like
this on you.
It's horrible. Probably
fried our brains.
I was using a lot of drugs
and I was out of control.
It was out of control.
Everyone was high.
My best friend called me
and said,
"I tried heroin.
And it's fantastic."
The drugs had taken
over my life so much
that I felt like there was
a wall between me
and other people.
That was the beginning
of the end for me.
Disco Inferno
by The Trammps
Saturday Night Fever,
one of the most successful
films of the year.
The movie already has grossed
nearly $100 million
in the United States
and Canada alone.
Over 10 million
albums of the soundtrack
by the Bee Gees have been sold,
and it has made a superstar
out of 24 year old
John Travolta.
It's a young man, going through,
trying to think of what
he wants to do
for the rest of his life.
And I think it's a very
important film.
That was a seminal point
because it was a
mass-marketed movie,
and it introduced literally
millions of people
across America to
a particular element
of the club scene at that time.
Burn, baby, burn
Disco inferno
Burn, baby, burn
Burn that mother down
Clubs were siloed in those days.
There were the
underground clubs,
there were Black clubs like
Leviticus and Othello
and other places.
But in Bay Ridge and some of
these other neighborhoods,
which is where Saturday Night
Fever was, was set,
that was a whole
different thing.
All kinds of places were
converted at night to discos.
Some places - restaurants
or whatever.
And it was a separate scene,
and that was the scene
that got projected.
That was the scene that blew up.
I think for a lot of people it
became aspirational.
He became this 'King of
the Night', you know,
dressed and spinning
women around.
And one of its by-products
was that everybody
made a disco record.
Ethel Merman
made a disco record.
Yeah, there was an Avon lady
made a disco record,
it was endless.
It became like a marketing tool
for record companies.
And then next thing I know,
it became this next
level big thing,
and it's like super huge,
and Studio 54,
and all these other super
expensive discos that...
the folks that really laid
this foundation
really couldn't go
to those places.
We didn't, you know,
you couldn't get in.
This is the scene outside
a New York disco
called Studio 54.
This is the place that's 'in'
with the disco crowd,
except that these people
are still out.
No pushing!
Of course, Liza Minnelli
and her kind of celebrities
sweep right through
the protective ranks
of door keepers.
One of the owners, Steve Rubell,
works the door.
He is choosy about who gets in,
and that adds to the mystique
and the desperation
to be accepted.
Oh, I just want to
watch the stars.
I saw Cheryl Tiegs,
Beverly Johnson,
quite a few celebrities.
Open up the doors now!
...because I'm going back to
Atlanta, Georgia tomorrow,
and I've seen it in People
Magazine in every issue.
The zoo?
You go to the zoo to watch
the animals.
These people are crowded
here right now
to watch all these freaky people
file into this place.
Steve is like my biggest fan.
He's at the Gallery every
Saturday night
and he's opening this club,
and they want me to play there.
I was the first DJ at Studio 54.
On the night that it opened,
I had some friends over.
I was like,
"Let's go check it out."
So only one person
that was with us got in.
And then, I went there every
night and stood outside
until I was finally let in.
Everyone's a Winner
by Hot Chocolate
You're not shaved.
There's no way you're coming in.
There was that whole
curated crowd
that was there from Calvin
Klein, Andy Warhol,
Truman Capote. So there's
a lot of celebrity-driven...
in Studio 54.
Everyone's a winner, baby
That's the truth
Yes, that's the truth
Making love to you
is such a thrill
Everyone's a winner, baby
That's no lie
That's no lie
You never fail
To satisfy
Satisfy
Everyone talked about it.
If you were dressed
exotically like we were,
Steve would wave us in.
It was glamorous, and there
was celebrities,
and so forth, but I felt
uncomfortable.
It's just my opinion,
I thought we were part
of the scenery for people who
were wanting something
exotic at the same time.
But it was 'approved', and they
could go to the VIP room
with Halston, and Liza Minnelli
and these people.
When you're going, "You,
not you, you, not you."
You're hurting
a lot of feelings.
And it created a big backlash.
We tried to get into
Studio 54 one night
because Grace Jones
had called us up and said,
"Hey, you're my personal guest.
Just go to the stage door,
and tell them your
personal friends
of Miss Grace Jones, verbatim."
Thing is, we didn't know that
Grace Jones's speaking voice
is her real speaking voice.
She sounded like a cross
between Marlene Dietrich
and Bela Lugosi.
We were young, man.
We were kids.
We didn't know anything.
Somebody said,
"Knock on the door
and tell them you're personal
friends of Miss Grace Jones
with that accent?"
And we kept trying to
get the accent right.
"We are personal friends
of Miss Grace Jones."
Instead of the guy
letting us in,
he went, "Aw, fuck off!"
We said, "No, no, no!
We're personal friends
of Miss Grace Jones!"
He came back to the door
and he said,
"Didn't I tell you to fuck off?"
It's like, wow.
We are freezing,
our shoes were wet.
They ruined my expensive
Maud Frizon suede shoes.
Fortunately, I live
one block away.
On the way to my apartment,
we picked up two bottles
of Dom Perignon,
which we used to call
'Rock and Roll Mouthwash'
back in the day.
We were pissed off, so we down
the bottles of champagne
very quickly and I picked
up my guitar and jam.
So we wrote this song called,
'Aw, Fuck Off'.
And it was pretty good.
"Aw, fuck off!"
You know it was like,
that kind of song.
And we were crying.
We had each other on the floor.
But Bernard then looks
at me and says -
he used to always pull his
sunglasses down over his nose
when he got serious.
And he says. "Yo, my man,
you do know this shit is
happening, right?"
You got to remember,
this is a couple of years
before hip-hop.
And I'm like, "Bernard,
we're not going to get,
Aw, Fuck Off on the radio."
He's like, "Let's work on it
man, that's what we do.
Let's work on it."
'Freak' is a good euphemism
for the other F-word.
And so we wrote Aw, Freak Off.
No matter how many times
we sang it and played it,
it was not lifting my skirt.
Boom. Light bulb goes off
over Bernard's head,
and he says, "Damn, it's like
that dance my kids are doing."
"What dance?"
Le Freak by Chic
Ah, freak out!
Le freak, c'est chic
Freak out
Ah, freak out
Le freak, c'est chic
Freak out
Now freak
Le Freak was so big, you know.
Now everybody was
interested in Chic.
That was the disco group.
That was the disco group
that actually made it.
And they were playing
their music inside,
and they couldn't
get in the club.
They wouldn't let them in.
When Le Freak came out,
I was doing The Freak.
I said freak
What disco music did do,
is it opened the barriers
of music being separated
and segregated.
There was R&B charts,
there were Pop charts.
I remember, I think it was
You Don't Send Me Flowers
Anymore
with Neil Diamond and
Barbra Streisand was #1.
And then, then Le Freak
came out,
and it went right to #1.
And people were livid.
I remember that was like,
"That can't happen.
We've got to do something
about this music,
it's out of control.
It has no color. It can do
whatever it wants.
And we can't control it."
I played for the Bianca Jagger
birthday party
where she rode in
on the white horse.
And all that was really nice,
but I got fired.
It was out of control.
He wanted
a certain type of people,
and created a big backlash.
And that became the vibe
for big clubs after that,
you know.
Quite a few of them opened up
and did extremely well.
I mean, you know, until
the summer of '79.
Comiskey Park
hosted a disco demolition today.
They blow up any disco records
you bring to the park.
WLUP's Steve Dahl
led his followers
in song and chants on the field.
Us rock and rollers
here in Chicago
think Disco sucks!
Disco sucks!
Telling people to
bring their disco records
and, "We're going to burn them"
and all this other
kind of stuff.
I just thought it was
absolutely stupid.
We are the Insane Coho Lips,
that's the anti-disco army.
It's not so much the
music that I dislike,
it's actually the culture. And
we're a Rock and Roll station.
That's true. Hardcore
Rock and Roll station.
And it's actually quite
intimidating
to most Rock and Rollers because
you have to look perfect.
Your hair has to be beautiful.
I can't dance.
I can't find a white
three-piece suit
that fits me off the rack,
that hangs well.
For other people to say,
"Well, we don't like
that kind of music
and we don't like those
kinds of people."
Let people be who they are.
Us Rock and Rollers
here in Chicago
think disco sucks.
If you didn't know it was 1979,
and you somehow put the footage
in black and white,
and you looked at book
burnings...
What kind of world is this?
What is this?
Like, all of a sudden, we're
going back to the Dark Ages.
Underneath this whole thing
are the radio stations, who
designed and pulled off
Comiskey Park.
It was a radio station.
Radio stations were a very
powerful network,
and the radio station jocks
got tickets to this,
really nice limousine rides.
And we cut them off
in a lot of ways.
Detroit rockers engaged
in the abolition of disco...
We'll be right back with your...
This is your
Rock and Roll General,
so stick around!
Our phone lines are now open.
Let us know how you would like
us to destroy this record.
They were a powerful
force against us.
The record burning, the
explosions on the field.
It wasn't as anti-disco as it
was anti-people of color.
It was anti-gay people,
it was anti-impoverished
peoples.
It promptly burgeoned
out of control,
and turned into
a full-blown riot.
This garbage of
demolishing a record
has turned into a fiasco.
Stonewall was a riot.
And here we have
ten years later,
this disco backlash
was also a riot.
And what are they rioting about?
Music?
It seems always to
be that, you know,
"You're having too much fun.
You just having too much fun.
We're fine with you
being in the closet."
What are they rioting about?
A loss of influence,
a loss of power,
and a loss of a narrative
that they had controlled
for a good long while.
Part of a larger backlash
against change.
I always thought it
was white people,
the middle class, who didn't
want the integration.
The Village was Sodom
and Gomorrah,
and anything that downtown
New York embraced,
"No, no, no, no."
Well, I... I can't take
any credit.
I've said all that it's not my
battle, it's God's battle.
I think it's easier for
folks to live in shame
because you can be
controlled in that way,
where watching black
queer people
unapologetically be who
they are within their skin
allows other folks to claim
theirs as well.
When we legalize,
and even normalize,
and even glamorize
homosexuality,
many, many boys and girls
who don't have
the benefit of homes
that teach them right from wrong
are easily recruited,
subverted, great, great damage.
Thank God for a president
who agrees in totality
of what we morally
stand for here.
'Disco Sucks' was so all
encompassing
that we totally lost our way.
We didn't know what to do.
'Disco' was now a dirty word.
No one wanted to use it anymore.
I hate disco. It sucks, man.
Disco sucks.
We went through the disco period
along with everybody else.
I mean, Paul McCartney
made disco records,
The Stones made disco records.
It's easy, I think, for the
world out there
to slag you off and just say,
"Oh, great, it's the Bee Gees
again," you know?
Well I resent the idea of people
out there slagging us off,
and I don't want to
do an interview
that's going to be like this.
Thanks.
No, I don't, sorry.
White audiences in the suburbs
who wanted to listen
to heavy metal,
hated this music too.
MTV and the big hair bands,
you know, came about.
That became a male dominated
period in terms of Rock.
But, you know, they were wearing
this spandex that we wore.
So I was like, "Really, guys,
why do you have a problem
with me in spandex, and you
don't have a problem
with David Lee Roth," you know?
There were a lot of people
ready to jump in
and go back to something
that they were really
comfortable with,
that didn't involve gay people
and black people.
And at that point we decided
that we were a disco band
just to be defiant.
"Hell yeah, we're disco band."
Chic couldn't get arrested, and
no one would call us back.
We were hurt. We didn't
understand how people
who once loved us, the very
next day, discarded us.
Hence, the beginning of our
drug and alcohol downfall.
So, you know, my world started
to crash because of drugs.
It ramped up faster than you
could have ever imagined.
Someone came to the
back of the booth,
1979, and said to me,
"They say disco is dead, Nicky.
What do you think?"
And I said, "Yeah."
For us, like, the whole
world changed.
We...
It's making me a little bit
emotional here.
I get a little emotional
over this
because this the start
of life for me,
this was... this was validation.
I still feel really emotional
about that period
because it was really
kind of amazing.
It was like tribal. It was
wonderful to be...
to feel part of something that
was much bigger than me.
It's still really moving to me.
Federal health officials
consider it an epidemic.
It's a disease first detected
in the gay community, that has
now spread beyond that.
My own family
won't come to San Francisco
for this parade because they're
afraid by breathing the air
that they're going to get AIDS.
When I came down
with this disease,
I found this button.
It absolutely reflected
my position.
You know, I, I may be down,
but I'm not out.
What we lack in is all
those folks that were involved
in this music, they passed away.
So a lot of those stories,
and a lot of these really
beautiful moments
that came out of people trying
to seek refuge through this...
I wouldn't even call it disco,
really like, music.
It's a culture.
At Last I Am Free by Chic
At last I am free
I can hardly see
in front of me
I can hardly see
in front of me
So I went from
The Gallery closing
to this place called
Buttermilk Bottom,
where I played until 1981,
and...
David Rodriguez,
who was my DJ mentor,
dies of AIDS.
We were so close,
and it just blew me away.
The AIDS epidemic was so quick.
It was really sad, you know,
to see the amount
of creative people
that died in a very short
period of time.
We've lost a couple
of generations
of promising great artists.
It was like you didn't know
who was going to be next.
It took away almost
all of my friends.
And these are the people...
I really thought some
of them, I would...
I would grow up with,
or have them to talk to.
And I think about it now,
sometimes.
I think by '84, I stopped
going to bars
because people would move away.
I was DJing at Xenon,
and we had a big Gay Night
on Thursday,
and it kept getting smaller
and smaller.
There were nights I went home
screaming at God.
I had went to see him
in San Francisco
about six months
before he passed,
and I was glad that I did.
But...
He kept up a brave fight.
I decided I had to step out
of the music thing
in order to save my
own life from drugs
because everybody,
every one of my friends
thought I would be dead
in a couple of years.
I came out in 1985,
right at the beginning
of the AIDS crisis.
The communal spaces in which
disco music was played
were also havens.
There's a saying in the church,
take your burdens to the Lord.
"I take my problems
to the dance floor."
It's the same thing.
For us, it became gay church.
It was a place where we
could engage spiritually
without being judged
for our queerness,
for our transness,
particularly...
in the moments where
I began to start feeling
put out by the church
because of my gayness,
because of my queerness.
It's been very healing for me.
So I was hanging out at
one of my favorite clubs,
Leviticus, and then I hear
the Good Times bass line.
And I'm hearing, you know, "I
said a hip hop, the hippie..."
you know, all this stuff.
And it was, it was great.
It was groovin'.
You know, as soon
as I hear the song,
I hear the bass and I go,
"There's only one guy in the
world who plays bass like that."
I said, "That's Bernard."
Rapper's Delight by
The Sugarhill Gang
I asked the DJ to show me
a copy of the record.
He was so excited.
He said,
"Man, I just picked this up
in Harlem today."
Whoa, wait a minute.
That's a little weird.
Rapper's Delight was everywhere.
And it took what we were
doing in the streets -
little business - now became
big business,
and that became
the new bar to set.
Walking past a laundromat,
and I was just hearing these
sounds coming out,
and they were playing
like, old Planet Rock.
I just fell in love
with the music,
and started to fall in love
with the culture.
Like Rapper's Delight,
what's funny about that
is as much as I love that song,
it really, it really didn't hit
me the way it did
until I realized that it was
an old Disco record.
You know, it was
Nile Rodgers and Chic.
And I started to get
more into Disco,
even as a producer,
really when I started working
with KRS and BEP.
I believe that disco
pushed the boundaries
of what masculinity could be.
And there was a backlash that
came in the Eighties,
that shut that expansion
of gender
and performative gender down.
It shut it down.
For a little while. It just
went underground.
I mean, even going back
to the beginning of house music
in the early Eighties,
it was always like
lightning in a bottle.
I moved to Chicago so I can
have an opportunity
to try to create something
on my own.
What was it, four years
after that demolition thing,
which was in '79?
By '83, the earliest house music
was coming out
of that same city that everybody
thinks destroyed Disco.
So when Frankie says that House
was Disco's Revenge,
that's what he's talking about.
"House music is
disco's revenge."
It hits it right on the nose.
It was a little bit
more laid back,
and it always made me feel sexy.
There was always
some new musician,
new singer, new producer.
Disco was always able
to kind of revitalize itself.
Good Life by Inner City
I know you want to go
I never really paid
attention to that
"Disco was dead"
because commercially
they tried to kill it,
but it evolved.
Really, it went back
underground.
It just kept evolving
because the 'four on the floor, '
that's always been
the key to Disco.
They use the
'four on the floor, '
the bass drum.
But they don't use a high-hat
in a song like that.
You don't hear the...
because they think that's Disco.
They just use the...
Good life
Having this technology,
it was the next step.
It opened up the doors.
I want to make this record,
I'm going to master it,
I'm going to put it out.
And can't nobody
tell me I can't.
All these independent labels
started releasing records
and became sort
of like mini majors.
How hot is house music now?
On a scale of one to ten?
It's a twelve.
Frankie did his own thing.
Immediately, I was drawn
to house music.
I knew that this was a successor
to what I was doing
because it reminded me
of the very early club tracks
that I had played.
I would say House music
is refined Disco,
the new sound of Disco.
The Warehouse
itself inspired it,
and what I was doing
at The Warehouse
is nothing different than
what Larry was doing
in The Garage.
We were playing in clubs that
were more so our homes
than they were anything else.
Move your body
I'm directly influenced by the
work that Frankie Knuckles
and Larry Levan were doing
because they were specifically
creating spaces
for black queer people,
and they just amplified
what was going on.
You get to really see a person
blossom in those spaces.
Historically, as we can see
with the history of disco,
a lot of nightlife culture is
birthed from queer people
just trying to exist.
Where would I be? Where,
what would I be listening to
if I was not existing in
the time that I'm in?
Alright, are we ready
to get this party going?
We've come too far
To give up who we are
So let's raise the bar
And our cups to the stars
So that song, I co-wrote
with Daft Punk
and Pharrell Williams.
Get Lucky by Daft Punk ft.
Pharrell Williams, Nile Rodgers
I'm up all night to get some
She's up all night
for good fun
I'm up all night
to get lucky
Daft Punk came to my house
to possibly work together.
So I went to Electric Lady
for what would ultimately
become Get Lucky.
I told Guy-Man,
"You know, Thomas, he's
standing right exactly where
Bernard Edwards
was, was standing
when we cut our
first Chic record."
So Thomas overheard that,
and he was like,
"How did you do
Chic Records?"
We've come too far
To give up who we are
So I said, "Well, let me
hear the song."
He turned the song on.
I wrote out a chart.
I listened to what everybody
was playing.
I said, "Now do me a favor.
Turn everybody down
except for the drums,
and let me play."
And to me, that felt
like the groove.
It felt like that's the way the
song should sound.
I'm up all night
to get lucky
We're up all night
till the sun
We're up all night
to get some
Daft Punk somehow
did something amazing
at a time where nobody
was doing that.
We're up all night
to get lucky
We're up all night
to get lucky
Now, I don't have my glasses on.
I'm going to the gig.
In London.
After Pride, the stragglers
who are still partying
after a day of partying.
Hey, how are you?
Good to see you!
Good to see you!
I'm so glad you're here.
It keeps coming back.
They want to dress like it
because they're feeling it.
Like my dancers are all...
they're all in their twenties,
whatever, but they love Disco!
A very cool thing to
a whole new generation.
There's a story behind this,
and where it came from.
When I travel, over 50%
of my audience
are people under 25.
And these people know every
word to every song I play.
But it's alright
If you give them all
I know that this music
did something to people
that other music doesn't.
It not only has a great beat,
and a great funk to it that
moves your soul,
but it's got words, and meaning
that really talk to people.
I do believe that disco was the
beginning of a conversation
that we're actually deep
in the middle of now.
We're in a time right now
where all status quos
are being questioned.
Imagine a guy like me,
now I'm 70.
Imagine I'm in the Seventies,
and in the Eighties
and things are just awesome,
and people are cool,
and... Yeah, friends for life,
and they're just,
they're just great.
I thought by the year 2000,
that this planet and people
would be just highly educated,
kind to each other, really cool.
It was like man, just...
it was all falling apart.
It was like the antithesis.
Let's begin this morning with
the deadly shooting overnight
at a gay nightclub in
Colorado Springs.
And then...
I don't know what happened.
You'd think that the civil
rights struggle ended.
But it didn't.
I mean, look at what
we're going through now.
It didn't end.
We put a Band-Aid on a wound
that needed stitches.
Three weeks
on from the first reports
of this virus, it has
now spread here,
and to other parts of the world.
But to what extent,
and severity,
cannot yet be predicted.
We were isolated in
our own silo spaces
for almost three years.
With a government that didn't
do anything to help.
We were just trying to get by.
We were just trying to hold
onto our mental health.
We were just trying to figure
out how to not lose our minds.
We were just trying to figure
out how to eat.
How to take care
of our families...
Club Quarantine, you know,
to me that was a chance to
actually just play music,
you know. No one was paying me,
people chose to stay with me.
I felt like this was a good time
to actually show people
who I am.
It was a moment
during quarantine
where I was trying
to feed my own soul.
I needed to feel
something spiritually,
and I connected with
this song called,
"Thinking of You,"
by Sister Sledge.
Thinking of You
by Sister Sledge
Just keep on doing what
you're doing to me
Oh, it's ecstasy
My daughter told me,
there's this DJ
who's playing Thinking of You,
and he's really loving your
song, you know?
It's funny how, like,
I listened to those records
for one reason back then,
but then later on
when I became a DJ,
I started to rediscover
these records.
We are one in here together,
we are celebrating together,
we're fighting in this together.
And I felt like, not only was
it feeding my soul,
but I was introducing
a whole new world
to one of the most beautiful
records I ever heard.
In the darkest time that we've
experienced in our lifetime,
I wanted to celebrate love,
and life, and family.
We got a hundred thousand
people in here
rocking with us right now!
This is absolutely insane!
Disco endures anyway because
it's bigger than you,
it's bigger than me,
it's bigger than any disease,
it's bigger than any backlash.
It's bigger than that.
It's classic.
It's necessary.
And now disco is having
the kind of resurgence
that is the kind of thing
that cements it
in the annals of
everything forever.
What I see is more
talent being born out of this
to continue it, because
technology will continue.
People are going to want
to dance forever.
They won't want to
go back to anything.
They're going to always
want to dance,
that's for sure.
The deep hidden
meaning of all of our songs
was about a life that
we wanted to lead.
We didn't have it yet,
but we aspired to it.
The great thing about all
the people around us,
we had a real family set-up.
Club music, dance music
brought people
together to dance.
From The Loft, to The Gallery,
to The Paradise Garage,
it became a movement.
We have a bond that
goes way deep and long
because we connected
on that dance floor,
where the emotional
charge was beyond
our wildest dreams.
Hopefully this all
means something,
and that we will all cosmically
find our way back home.
I really believe we're
on our way back home.