Given the current fascination with Disco, and a fresh wave of interest in its history, I thought it would be good time to flag up what many would regard as the must read book on the subject, outlining the development of the movement in downtown New York during the 70’s. Here’s my review for Grandslam magazine back in 2003, when Tim Lawrence’s epic ‘Love Saves The Day – A History Of American Dance Music Culture, 1970-1979’ was first published:
What can I say? Cappello, D’Acquisto, Gibbons, Grasso. Guttadaro, Humphries, Kaczor, Kevorkian, Knuckles, Levan, Mancuso, Moulton, Rodriguez, Saverese, Scott, Siano, Better Days, The Continental Baths, Flamingo, The Gallery, The Ice Palace, Le Jardin, The Limelight, The Loft, Paradise Garage, The Sanctuary, The Sandpiper, Studio 54, The Tamburlaine, Tenth Floor, 12 West, The Warehouse, etc, etc, etc. It’s all in here, the people and places (plus, of course, the music) that shaped an entire culture.
For anyone interested in getting the in-depth lowdown on how the Disco decade unfolded, ‘Love Saves The Day’ is an absolute must. Meticulously researched by its author, Tim Lawrence, this is a veritable history lesson, which includes material from over three hundred interviews plus select discographies from a whole host of DJ’s. From its underground origins to its mainstream explosion, overkill and eventual backlash, Disco has never been more thoroughly (and lovingly) dissected.
The heartbeat of the book is provided by its central figure, David Mancuso, who gave the project his full support and blessing. Mancuso’s Loft parties were a major influence on so many of the New York pioneers, with his ‘Love Saves The Day’ Valentine’s gathering in 1970 giving the book its title and the story its starting point. Suffice to say that without his considerable contribution to the evolution of what we now call club culture, its whole development would have been altogether different.
Lawrence’s much anticipated follow up to ‘Love Saves The Day’ will now be published in 2014. ‘Life And Death On The New York Dance Floor’ will highlight the hybrid years of 1980-1983, when the foundations were laid for the oncoming Hip Hop, House and Techno directions ahead.
Daft Punk are sitting pretty at the top of the UK singles chart for the first time. The track in question, ‘Get Lucky’, taken from their forthcoming album, ‘Random Access Memories’, came as something of a surprise, for instead of hitching itself to the current EDM juggernaut that’s sweeping America, the French duo have completely bucked the trend by drawing their influence from Disco, featuring its most celebrated guitarist, the great Nile Rodgers of the Chic Organisation (as well as R&B vocalist, Pharrell Williams). A media sensation, it’s everywhere at the moment – on the radio, on the TV, in the clubs and, of course, all over the internet, becoming the most streamed new release in Spotify history. It’s already been re-edited by a whole host of DJ’s, myself, via Richard Lee, included (www.gregwilson.co.uk/2013/04/just-plain-daft/), and is pretty much nailed on to be the single of the summer.
It’s been a shrewd move to say the least, befitting of artists who have continually innovated since they burst onto the scene back in 1995 with ‘Da Funk’, pushing at the electronic boundaries ever since. Now, 18 years on, they’re viewed as an inspiration to the current EDM movement, but instead of embracing it they’ve distanced themselves from it, even criticising the direction it’s taken during recent times. Thomas Bangalter, one half of the duo, said, in a recent Rolling Stone interview, that electronic music "is in its comfort zone" facing "an identity crisis”, and stated his desire to return to the ethos of the pre-digital age. The main focus of ‘Random Access Memories’ is on the use of live instruments, with Bangalter explaining; "we wanted to do what we used to do with machines and samplers, but with people."
This move towards live instrumentation, coupled with the available technology, is something I anticipated soon after I’d made my DJ comeback. When I’d stopped at the end of ‘83, the music I was playing was cutting-edge Electro-Funk, mainly out of New York, which was experimenting with sequencers, samplers and drum machines, heralding the digital age on the horizon. What struck me on my return, 2 decades on, hearing this music from a fresh perspective, is that many of these futuristic records, as they sounded at the time, still included live elements, a real bass or guitar, or maybe percussion, and even those that were completely electronic were generally being programmed by musicians, and not, as was the case later down the line, by DJ’s. There was a musicality about them that I wasn’t hearing in most contemporary tracks, the majority of which lacked, to my ears, that certain something, be it spirit or emotion. Yes, DJ’s have made great dance tunes sat at their computers, but there’s no substitute for real musicianship – you can’t replicate that kind of magic. So, with this in mind, I spoke in interviews about my belief that the way forward involved a retrograde step in effect, back to how dance music was being made in that anything goes atmosphere of the early 80’s, with more of a marriage between technology and musicality.
This is exactly what Daft Punk have done, collaborating with people who understand the old ways for this new album. One of these is the legendary producer Giorgio Moroder, whose greatest contribution to dance culture was the seminal ‘I Feel Love’, a future shock of a tune which electrified dancefloors in 1977 and is regarded as one of the most inspirational club tracks of all-time. Although the record itself sounded like it had been beamed down from outer space, what mustn’t be forgotten is that it was the genius juxtaposition with a sensational vocal performance by Donna Summer that provided the alchemy – the mechanical fused with the natural to create a third force, something that, on that incredible piece of plastic, transcended the two. So, as someone all too aware of the fine balance required, Moroder’s words come with added weight; “it’s time to have something new in the Dance world. I love Disco, or Dance, anyway, but this is a step forward. They (Daft Punk) had to do something which is different – still Dance, still electronic, but give that human touch back”. Fellow producer Todd Edwards added; “when the music becomes focused on the effects that are being used or the pre-sets of sounds, there’s no soul there - it’s kind of ironic that two androids are bringing soul back to music”, whilst Nile Rodgers, whose guitar riffs epitomize human touch, perfectly summarized the situation; “they went back to go forward”.
As with any bold stroke, not everyone approves. ‘Get Lucky’ has been met with both plaudits and rebuke, with the DJ community pretty much split down the middle – it seems to be a track people either love or hate, and this has created much debate on forums and Facebook.
What’s for sure is that this isn’t just another release, but a whole event in itself – a real zeitgeist moment. Disco is now about to become a buzzword for a younger generation of clubbers to whom this ‘new’ direction will be viewed as an exciting development. If Daft Punk have made a Disco record, especially a madly successful one, it’s clear that a lot of other people will follow suit. Vice Magazine's recent piece, suggesting that this could be ‘the Summer of Disco’, certainly has a point: http://www.vice.com/en_uk/read/could-this-be-the-summer-of-disco.
Disco’s underground profile was significantly raised here last year. Key moments included Todd Terje, once revered for his edits of other peoples tracks, unleashing a killer tune all of his own, the infectious ‘Inspector Norse’, which would, and still does, tear up dancefloors wordwide, whilst in October, DJ Harvey, whose reclamation of Disco at his club nights in 90’s London had helped ignite the current movement, made his long-awaited Red Bull sponsored return to the UK, after a decade long US exile. These have been the appetizers, but when Daft Punk, one the biggest ever names in electronic music, not only issue a Disco single, but score what may well be the most talked about hit of the year in the process, you know you’re onto the main course.
‘Get Lucky’ has dropped at just the right moment. At a time of recession and austerity, the uplifting nature of Disco is at its most potent, as proved in the past. What must be remembered is that this was a movement that flourished in New York at a point when the city was on its knees, only just avoiding bankruptcy. Disco thrived through the hard times, the release it provided from the stresses and strains of the everyday can’t be understated – the whole thing goes much deeper than the surface decadence of a Studio 54, the venue that caught the media’s attention and, along with the movie ‘Saturday Night Fever’ (1977), became a defining factor in how the era would be presented in retrospect. It’s only more recently that the underground venues, like Paradise Garage, The Gallery, The Sanctuary and The Loft, and the alternative narrative they represent, have been properly brought to our attention.
With this in mind, it’s as good a time as any to look at Disco in both a historical context, and with regards to its contemporary emergence. Daft Punk may have put it back on the top of the charts, but they needed to tap into something that was already there, and which has been gaining momentum throughout the past decade, with the seeds sown in the decade before that. This Disco resurgence has been at least 20 years in the making, but we need to look back to the original era, before considering its more recent rise via the underground.
In 2010 I was asked to provide the sleevenotes for the Disco compilation Ministry Of Sound released as part of their popular ‘Anthems’ series, and, recognising its importance in potentially converting people to the cause, I saw it as an opportunity to touch on the history, as well as its re–emergence in more recent times. It was a collection of club classics from the 70’s and early 80’s, which, although not something that would appeal to the already initiated, provided an entry point for younger clubbers only just discovering the music of the original Disco era – in describing it as a “catalyst for further investigation”, I hoped the album would inspire some to dig deeper. I wrote:
“Disco is no longer a dirty word. Here in 2010 it’s very much enjoying a renaissance with a younger underground club audience, not just in the UK, but in dedicated pockets of varying depth and size worldwide. The dance music of the 70’s and early 80’s has become a serious passion for many people who weren’t even born when these records were played the first time around. This is not a revivalist movement though – contemporary releases, which compliment the vibe, pepper things up, whilst re–edits of older tunes often play an important role in tailoring the music to now.
But Disco never really went away – it’s just that it’s always meant different things to different people in different places at different times, and has slipped in and out of favour depending on which aspect is highlighted. Having lost its cool following the post ‘Saturday Night Fever’ feeding frenzy of the late 70’s, a bandwagon which, unfortunately, has provided the mainstream symbolism ever since, it was always on the back foot. For many years its cheesier connotations were emphasised whilst its sheer creativity and versatility was circumvented. The ‘Disco’ the media portrayed and, to a large extent, still portray, isn’t the Disco I knew and loved.
When I started out as a club DJ, at the end of 1975, Disco wasn’t a specific genre as such, but referred to the type of music played in discotheques and nightclubs, which was predominantly by black Soul & Funk artists. So, when I personally think of Disco it’s The O’Jays, not the Bee Gees that spring to mind. However, ‘Saturday Night Fever’ was such a phenomenal success that the perception of Disco was changed forever, culminating in the inevitable backlash, including the racist and homophobic ‘Disco Demolition’ at Chicago’s Comiskey Park in July 1979, where many of those in the 50,000 crowd participated in a ritual record burning, whilst chanting ‘Disco Sucks’.
Disco was soon declared dead by the triumphant rock establishment, but it simply went back underground and, throughout the early 80’s, flourished away from the mainstream glare having re–invented itself as ‘dance music’. This was a real hybrid age from which all the subsequent club–based music fermented. Rather than abate, Disco mutated, and when Frankie Knuckles made his famous quote about House music being ‘Disco’s Revenge’ the term reclaimed some of its former credibility, at least in more underground circles, with its rehabilitation completed during more recent times.
As the years passed many people discovered that lots of the samples in contemporary dance tracks came from Disco records, some of which feature here, including Chicago ‘Street Player’ (The Bucketheads ‘The Bomb!’), Loleatta Holloway ‘Love Sensation’ (Black Box ‘Ride On Time’) and Gary’s Gang ‘Let’s Lovedance Tonight’ (Soulsearcher ‘Can’t Get Enough’). Having identified the samples used, many younger DJ’s began to dig deeper, looking for the original recordings. Their detective work was made so much easier a little later down the line with the emergence of the internet and its search engines, not to mention the various DJ forums that sprung up, some of which focused primarily on Disco, where they could discuss the music with other enthusiasts.
With authors like Tim Lawrence (‘Love Saves The Day’ – 2003) and Peter Shapiro (‘Turn The Beat Around’ – 2005) documenting, in such depth, the emergence of Disco in the 70’s, whilst DJ’s and aficionados devour authentic US club playlists from the period via Vince Aletti’s ‘The Record Files’ (2009) and any other sources they can find, Disco is nowadays regarded with respect rather than ridicule.”
Disco wasn’t the name I would have personally chosen as the term for what I play now. I felt it came with too much baggage, given previous associations and prejudices, and besides, I was drawing from a much wider palette. However, now it has been named as such, I fully embrace the term in its original spirit – not as a specific genre, but, as I said in the sleevenotes, as music made to be played in clubs and discotheques, in all its splendid diversity, and spanning an entire history. The music I personally feature goes as far back as the 60’s, but is mainly centred on the period when I was a DJ first time around, the mid–70’s to mid–80’s – spanning its original emergence right through until the underground Electro–Funk era. Moving on from there, I cherry pick my way around the years, right up to the contemporary tunes that have fitted into my particular vibe, by artists including Atlantic Conveyor, Metro Area, Chicken Lips, Crazy P, 40 Thieves, Groove Armada, Simian Mobile Disco, Sugardaddy, Martin Brew, Escort, Nick Chacona & Anthony Mansfield, Soul Mekanik, Spirit Catcher, Ilija Rudman, Social Disco Club and 1gnition, the majority of which I’ve had the opportunity to mix or edit along the way (in recent years the ‘Future Disco’ compilation series has helped highlight many current artists, and has included a number of my mixes).
What I play are classic and cult–classic tunes, largely re–edited, with a sprinkling of current stuff that I can work in. I’m not about digging deep for obscurities, there are plenty of DJ’s doing a great job in this area - I’m already time served at the cutting-edge, that was a different point in my career. Here and now my role, as I outlined in my first blog post of 2013, ‘The Movin’ On Up / Move On Up Mantra’ is that of ‘bridge builder’ between present and past.
I’m now into my 10th year as a DJ, which is longer than my original stint. Much of the media we relied on in 2003 is no longer here in 2013 – and although I think of my DJ past as the 70’s and early 80’s, there’s now a more recent past to reflect on. A decade ago there were labour of love magazines here in the UK, notably Keep On, Grandslam, and, later down the line, Faith Strobelight Honey, which brought the history to life, whilst reporting on contemporary aspects of the scene. There was also representation in the Jazzier publications, Straight No Chaser and Shook, whilst over in the US, Wax Poetics was a cultural godsend reverently excavating the history of black music. However, it wasn’t the magazines that people looked towards in order to keep their ear to the ground, but the then thriving online communities that had evolved, exchanging knowledge and opinion from different points of speciality – Disco Music, DJ History, Brownswood, Southport Weekender, Deep House Page, Electriks, Faithfanzine and Electro Empire were all daily stop offs for me at one point or another.
Back in 2007, when the DJ History forum was the essential gathering place for DJ’s on the side of the club scene I’d gravitated towards, with Disco, Boogie, Cosmic, Space, Balearic, Italo, Electro–Funk and Re–Edits providing the music of choice, I kicked off a discussion on what I referred to as ‘The Scene Without A Name’. This is now included in the site's ‘classic threads’ and provides a real insight into how a schism was beginning to open up between those who wished to push things further, bringing in new enthusiasts, and those who wanted to keep things more exclusive: http://www.djhistory.com/forum/the–scene–without–a–name
I’d started with a quote from another thread by producer Red Rack’em, who’d said; “I would like us to get to play our kind of music to people under 30 – in a club environment”. This reflected how the audience back then was largely devoid of youth, something which was obviously detrimental to the longevity of this nameless scene. I was very much of the opinion that we needed to reach out to a younger demographic, and in order to do this we had to let them know what was on offer – I was on the side of finding a suitable name ourselves, before someone on the outside named it for us, but others were dead set against any naming at all. The debate would rage through 10 pages, but the scene remained unnamed, although throughout the coming years it would increasingly be described in the media as ‘Disco’ – and that’s how it ended up.
Disco and Re–Edit are 2 terms that go hand in hand, I was extremely fortunate to plug straight into an already existing movement, which had its own edits labels, like Better Days, Big Bear, Creative Use, Ugly Edits, Automan, Moxie, Moton and GAMM, with others including Disco Deviance, Instruments Of Rapture, Mindless Boogie and KAT to follow. Since that time I’ve been beholden to so many of my fellow DJ’s who have enhanced my playlist with an ever ongoing supply of outstanding edits, reworks and mash–ups to feature alongside my own. Particular props to those who’ve provided multiple examples, including Todd Terje, The Revenge, Situation, Duff Disco, Chopshop / DJ Agent 86, Hawk, Late Nite Tuff Guy, Leftside Wobble, Project Tempo, Leo Zero, Dicky Trisco, Deep & Disco and Psychemagik, with the next wave currently building momentum, and people like Fingerman, The Reflex, Derek Kaye, Daz, Peza and Henry Greenwood doing consistently strong re–constructions, which help make my job so much easier. DJ’s are editing away literally everywhere – there’s Beaten Space Probe in Japan, V in Russia, Flight Facilities in Australia, Chris Reed in New Zealand, Onur Engin in Turkey, Moplen in Italy, Rayko in Spain, the list goes on and on.
For me, edits enable tracks from a different era to be enjoyed in a whole new context to when the original versions appeared. No longer confined to the past, to be wistfully revived from time to time, they become contemporary once again. In this way club music, as with music in general, continues to evolve into the future, finding a new appreciation as a younger audience discovers these tunes for the first time. The trick is in presenting the past in a new way, rather than serving it up in a purely nostalgic manner, which would alienate most of the younger heads who aren’t about re–living their yesterdays, but exploring the next phase.
I’ve found that some of the people most resistant to re–edit culture are those who, like myself, would be termed middle–aged / 40 something DJ’s, ex–DJ’s and wannabe but never really were DJ’s. This can stem from more purist leanings, believing the original vinyl is the true format and any further tampering is unnecessary, but also just a general negativity about younger people utilizing the internet to gain knowledge it took them years of hanging around and digging about in record shops to acquire. There’s a body of opinion that it’s come too easy to this new generation, and therefore it isn’t as valid as their own experience.
I’ve never held those views – things are as they are, and we can’t go back to what they were. In order for this music to remain relevant it needs to be re–imagined, and this is why the re–edit has been such a crucial part of this whole process – it makes this previously old music accessible to those who weren’t there to appreciate it first time around. It’s a simple equation, great music is great music, but if we hold that our own experience is the only experience, the music becomes stuck in time, with the mildew of nostalgia growing over it.
Whilst some DJ’s play their cards close to their chest, refusing to disclose what they play, I’m of a different school, I want people to know what I’m playing and if other DJ’s play it as a consequence that works to the greater good as far as I’m concerned – it helps move things forward and connect something I obviously believe in to a wider audience. I maintain that if you’re hearing great tunes on the surface, it’s going to benefit the underground – they’re 2 sides of the same coin.
When I re–entered the DJ fray, almost a decade ago, there were some great underground nights in various parts of the UK flying the Disco flag, including those sadly gone, like The Electric Chair in Manchester, Jigsaw in Birmingham, Basement Boogaloo in Nottingham and Whistle Bump in London, as well as those still going strong, such as Melting Pot in Glasgow, El Diablo’s Social Club in Manchester and London’s Horse Meat Disco, Low Life and Disco Bloodbath. There was also the Nu Disco direction, a European variant which, amongst others, helped bring the Norwegian Disco trinity, Lindstrøm, Prins Thomas and Todd Terje, to wider attention. The diversity of the DJ’s meant that the music was wide–ranging – there were those that excavate the rarer nuggets, Sean P and Al Kent included, seasoned black music selectors like Kelvin Andrews, Phil Asher and Maurice Fulton, as well as glorious mavericks like Daniele Baldelli, the Idjut Boys, Moodymann, In Flagranti, The Glimmers and Daniel Wang, not forgetting Chris Duckenfield, Kelvin Brown, Domu, Ray Mang, Foolish Felix, Mark Seven, Mark E, Optimo, Pete Herbert and all those others that played their part (and who I apologise to for forgetting here). Across the pond, props are due to DJ’s including Derrick Carter, Theo Parrish, Masters At Work, DJ Spinna, Rahaan, Rub & Tug, Soul Clap, Mark Farina, plus the NYC OG’s who are still out there doing their thing: John Morales, François K, Timmy Regisford, Danny Krivit, Dennis ‘Citizen’ Kane, Justin Strauss and NJ’s finest, Tony Humphries, included. Then, of course, at the top of the tree in terms of overall influence and longevity, there’s the man who set the foundations with his seminal Loft parties, starting way way back in 1970, the incomparable David Mancuso.
Whilst House, Hip Hop, Techno and Drum & Bass provided the main club soundtrack for the 90’s, there were DJ’s who’d continued, against the tide, to keep the Disco flame alight, including Joey Negro, Dimitri From Paris and Harvey (who, with Gerry Rooney, launched the Black Cock edits label in the early 90’s), whilst the likes of Norman Jay, Paul ‘Trouble’ Anderson and Ashley Beedle, with full knowledge of its Soul / Funk past, helped keep the roots watered. Then there was French / Filtered House, which utilized Disco samples and scored chart success in the process, Thomas Bangalter being one of its main exponents.
In 90’s Manchester, DJ’s including the Jam MC’s, John McCready, Moonboots, Dave Haslam, Justin Robertson, Greg Fenton, Jason Boardman, Elliot Eastwick and Adrian, Mark & Mike Luvdup, along with the inimitable funkster Mr Scruff, helped create the musical conditions from which The Unabombers, Justin & Luke, were able to evolve what I believe to be the most important club night in the city since the Haçienda days, the Electric Chair, which anyone who went there, and any DJ who played there, will tell you was something pretty damn special – often seeming like an oasis of authenticity in a corporate age of superclubs and superstar DJ’s. When I appeared there for the first time, in February 2005, I felt like my comeback could now be deemed complete – that I was no longer a DJ from the past that someone might want to tick off their to see list, with the limited shelf life which that suggests, but a DJ who was relevant in a contemporary sense. That was my objective, and being asked to play at the Electric Chair was the measure of its achievement.
The Electric Chair was also indebted to Sheffield, the home city of Luke Unabomber, a veteran of Winston & Parrot’s Jive Turkey nights, which were hugely influential there in the 80’s, not least with regards to the formation of Warp Records in the city. Winston & Parrot were, in turn, part of a lineage going back to the specialist black scene in the earlier part of the decade, where Soul, Funk, Disco, Jazz, Jazz–Funk and Electro–Funk provided the soundscape for the more discerning dancefloors. Nothing develops in isolation, there’s always what went before to inform what follows on – scenes and cities have continually cross–pollinated since UK club culture began to flourish back in the 60’s.
Numerous people started their own nights in their own towns and cities, to varying degrees of success, having experienced the unique atmosphere of the Electric Chair, where The Unabombers and a who’s who of monthly guests, including some of the US DJ’s who were active during the original Disco period, played an eclectic selection of Dance music spanning the eras. The Chair may be no more, but its spirit lives on via one–off ‘Riots’ and, of course, the annual Electric Elephant Festival over in Croatia: http://www.electricelephant.co.uk/
As I found my feet as a DJ once again I was fortunate to also find a sub–culture of passionate people promoting parties in places like Leeds, Sheffield, Newcastle, Nottingham, Birmingham, Liverpool, Dublin, Southampton, Portsmouth, Bristol, Brighton, Edinburgh, Dundee, Glasgow, Manchester and London, all cities in which I appeared before my first ‘Credit To The Edit’ compilation moved things up a few notches for me, bringing in overseas bookings and making me aware of how this Disco renaissance didn’t have any borders, with clusters of enthusiasts everywhere – from Sao Paulo to Bucharest, and from Auckland to Istanbul. Everywhere I went the appreciation of music past was a pre–requisite for the nights I played – I could never have rebuilt my career otherwise. I was also fortunate to find an early champion in Sav Remzi, whose label, Tirk, released ‘Credit To The Edit’ – Sav had previously partnered Dave Hill, and their Nuphonic label was key in spreading the Disco gospel, not least (with the assistance of Colleen ‘Cosmo’ Murphy) via the 2 volumes of ‘David Mancuso Presents The Loft’ in 1999 and 2000. There’s also been a wealth of Disco re-issued on compilations via record companies such as BBE, Strut, Azuli, Soul Jazz, Harmless, Suss’d, Claremont 56 and Z / ZR.
Prior to the Nuphonic albums, David Mancuso was viewed as little more than a marginal figure in Disco’s past. ‘Disco Sucks’ had done such lasting damage in the US that major players from its New York pomp, including Mancuso, Francis Grasso, Nicky Siano and Larry Levan, DJ’s who affected real cultural change, had been all but left out of the history books in their country of origin, although European authors Ulf Poschardt (‘DJ Culture’ 1995) and Bill Brewster & Frank Broughton (‘Last Night A DJ Saved My Life’ 1999) highlighted their legacy, before Tim Lawrence’s ‘Love Saves The Day – A History Of American Dance Music Culture 1970-1979’ (2004) left nobody in any doubt of their full cultural contribution.
In a way which echoes how the US re–discovered its rich Blues legacy as a result of the ‘British Invasion’ of the 60’s, America owes a debt to Europe when it comes to the painstaking documentation of this vital part of its cultural heritage. Back then, bands like the Rolling Stones, The Yardbirds and The Animals, worshiped by American teenagers, were quick to tell anyone who cared to listen that the people they worshiped were old bluesmen like Muddy Waters, John Lee Hooker and Robert Johnson, artists that had been pretty much discarded in their country of birth. The current Disco movement, which has built a thriving infrastructure of club nights and parties throughout Europe, is much more evolved on this side of the Atlantic, and also in Japan and Australia, than it is in the United States. Despite the efforts of those DJ’s there who I’ve previously mentioned, a large swath of the country still regards Disco with disdain, rather than the respect it merits – the damage caused by Steve Dahl, the Chicago shock jock whose Disco Sucks crusade served to belittle a whole genre of music, still, sadly, reverberates into now, with it derided, in certain quarters, as ‘faggot music’ right through to this day. A whole chunk of the nation’s musical history has been largely negated as a consequence, which is both tragic and shameful.
Good old straight / white American Rock re–asserted itself following Disco’s demise, radio stations and record companies having limply capitulated, finding it easier to climb aboard the ‘Disco is dead’ bandwagon than continue to support the music that had sustained them for the past 5 years, with many great artists seeing their careers nosedive as a result. The MTV age was upon us, but hardly any black artists were invited to the party during the first few years – that was until Michael Jackson redefined the pop video, and the station was forced to relent what many regarded as a blatantly racist policy.
Reports of Disco’s death was, as is said, greatly exaggerated – the survivors of the cull had been forced underground, where, arguably, its most creative era was about to unfold, with Hip Hop, House and Techno able to ferment beneath the surface. It’s ironic that it was Chicago, the same city where Disco was supposedly laid to rest, that House music was born, and Disco began to extract its revenge. But Hip Hop and Techno were also Disco’s revenge, for to limit it to House would do a disservice to the sheer breadth of Disco, which took on many forms, having originally been moulded from mainly Soul and Funk. What House and Techno did was set the tempo, bar the odd exception, at 120+ beats per minute, but that was only half of the story – Disco wasn’t just uptempo, many of the greatest club records of the pre–Rave era were downtempo grooves. Hip Hop knew all about this of course, but its association with Disco became increasingly marginalised (especially given the desecration of the term by Disco Sucks), even though Funk was its main sample source as it gradually became the most powerful music form of the late 20th century. When you consider that the most legendary club in the South Bronx, the very place of Hip Hop’s birth, was called Disco Fever, where DJ Hollywood (from whom, according to Fab 5 Freddy, the term Hip Hop is said to have originated) rocked the house, with the likes of Grandmaster Flash & The Furious Five, Kurtis Blow and Run–DMC cutting their teeth there. Nile Rodgers highlights Disco’s fundamental role in the emergence of Hip Hop; “A lot of artists, who were maybe 20 years younger than myself, explained that ‘before we did Hip Hop what do you think we were listening to? There was no Hip Hop we were listening to Disco!’ That’s why the first big Hip Hop record is a sample of one of my records – ‘Rappers Delight’ comes from ‘Good Times’”.
Disco is very much a broad church – to repeat myself, it wasn’t originally a genre as such, but an umbrella term for the music played in clubs and discotheques. When I was asked to provide a mix for the Silent Disco installation at The Tate Gallery in Liverpool in 2009, this was the theme I explored, selecting only tracks from ’72–’75, before the Disco era really hit its stride with the introduction of the 12” single, and the full elevation of the DJ into sonic innovator via the remix, or ‘Disco Mix’ as they were once called. These were the tracks that were being played by local DJ’s like Terry Lennaine and Les Spaine during the years before I started out, and are representative of the roots of Disco, not only as we experienced it on Merseyside, but as it was also experienced elsewhere in Britain. You can hear the full 2 hours, and read more about it, here: http://soundcloud.com/gregwilson/music–played–in–discotheques–full–length–by–greg–wilson–for–the–tate–gallery
It was over in Disco central NYC during this era that Danny Krivit (who counted Nile Rodgers as a childhood friend) began to DJ at his father’s clubs, The Ninth Circle and Ones. Danny is as New York as they come – the music he plays seeps with the city’s history. So when East Village owner and The Date promoter, Stuart Patterson, put forward the idea of the 2 of us playing back to back at Loft Studios in London, emphasising our shared history, both as DJ’s who started out in the 70’s and old school re–editors who learnt our craft on tape, it was obviously something that appealed to me, having huge respect for Danny, his legacy, and the inspirational city of his birth, which had such a major influence on my career, despite never having crossed the Atlantic until 2005.
Nowadays it’s Brooklyn where you’ll find most of the action, Manhattan, once the centre of the Disco universe, long overgrown with gentrification. The recent RA / RBMA short, ‘Real Scenes: New York’, touches on this, featuring, amongst others, Eamon Harkin & Justin Carter, who promote Mister Saturday Night, and Bryan Kasenic who promotes The Bunker, both of which I’ve appeared at in recent years, more recently at Steve Rogenstein’s wonderful loft space, 12–turn–13 (which inspired a track I recently put out of the same name). Also interviewed is Tim Sweeney, an important figure on the scene via his Beats In Space radio show. Check it out here: http://www.residentadvisor.net/feature.aspx?1801
By way of contrast, here’s a trailer for the documentary film ‘Downtown Calling’, still frustratingly unreleased on DVD, which focuses on the 1977-1985 period, particularly that hybrid early 80’s era: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vA7YPi3fMYo
A week ahead of the Loft Studios gig, Vincent Montana, Jr. the lynchpin of the 2 greatest Disco orchestras – MFSB, out of Philadelphia, and New York’s Salsoul Orchestra, had died. I’d paid tribute on the blog earlier in the week, and the first 4 tracks I played at Loft Studios were in homage to Montana. Further to this, the opening track was the classic Danny Krivit edit of ‘Love Is The Message’ by MFSB. I’d wanted to kick things off by tipping my hat to him, for Danny is pretty much the godfather of the current re–edits movement, his take on ‘Love Is The Message’ setting the standard in 1985. You could go back to Tom Moulton and Walter Gibbons in the mid–70’s, whose early ‘mixes’ were actually extended edits, but they were quickly given access to multitrack recordings in order to work their magic. Danny, via ‘Love Is The Message’, showed just what’s possible when it’s only the stereo track you have to work with (or tracks in this case, for he incorporated parts of ‘Ooh, I Love It (Love Break)’ by the Salsoul Orchestra, which had borrowed from ‘Love Is The Message’, hence the ‘Love Break’ sub–title).
It would turn out to be an auspicious night for Disco in the capital, illustrating just how far things have come during recent times, for this was a major London party where House played a supporting role to Disco, rather than the vice–versa norm. The relevance of this wasn’t lost on Tim Keenoy, the event's co–promoter; “To date, the Loft space has always accommodated our House headliners with Disco being in the downstairs studio. So putting Greg & Danny on together meant it was a great opportunity to switch things round. A lot of parties in London have house in the main room & Disco in the 2nd room but this showed how Disco can challenge that format as it worked perfectly and made for a very unique & special evening ... a moment in time. One of our favourite parties in fact, since we started the series”. That’s really saying something when previous guests have included such luminaries as Tony Humphries, Timmy Regisford and Kerri Chandler (with Frankie Knuckles next up in November).
I recorded my full 3 hour slot at Loft Studios – it provides an example of Disco, circa 2013, in all its diversity, with twists and turns aplenty. From my own personal perspective, I like the way re–edits enable me to play, for example, a track from the 80’s, followed by something from the 70’s, then a 90’s classic, before a contemporary release – all sorts of different moments knitted together in a way that, thanks to all the re–editors out there busy ploughing the past, makes perfect sense now. We live in a cut & paste epoch – this is a natural state for younger people who’ve always had computers around them, and to whom the manipulation of sounds and images is second nature. The digital domain is their playground or, with a bit of focus applied, their laboratory, their studio – if this is what we’re doing now, I can’t begin to imagine what’s around the corner when the next generation, having hopefully become more culturally aware, make their statement.
Disco is both ancient history and living history, providing a vital link between past and present. Dance culture is to this generation what Rock & Roll was to the 60’s and 70’s – it’s something that came before, but which they’re re–shaping now - the same thing, but not the same thing. It offers a limitless source of inspiration, which only becomes limited if you narrow things down to the cul–de–sacs of sub–genre and nostalgia.
Daft Punk know the score. They don’t want to be labelled the godfathers of EDM, to be patted on the back by young pretenders who’ve allowed the music, as they believe, to slip into a comfort zone. They don’t want to endorse this direction, or cash in on it so they have a nice nest egg when they’re eventually put out to pasture – for this is what will happen if they take their eye off the ball and cease to innovate. They’re one step ahead, and that step is summed up by the wise old phrase ‘to know the future you must first know the past’.
‘Get Lucky’, this catchy pop song in a Disco style, is one of the most important singles in a very long time because it unlocks history, bringing then to now and now to then, immediately inspiring not only DJ’s and musicians, but artists and illustrators, writers and revellers. It’s remarkable what a good vibe tune can do, and even if you hate it, it still affects you, tweaks your own vibrations, and every time you hear it in the long summer to come it’ll give you a little volt.
Positive vibes, I say, should be welcomed when we’re offered them, and just the fact that the name Nile Rodgers will now be known (and respected) by some people young enough to be his grandchildren, makes this record worth its weight in gold. I for one want to live in a world where people know who Nile Rodgers is, or who Giorgio Moroder is, who Vincent Montana Jr. was, who Danny Krivit is, who David Mancuso is. If you profess to love Dance music, these are iconic figures you need to know about, for I can guarantee they’ll enrich your lives with the music they’ve made or the records they play, and help you join the dots from now to then and back again.
Every week I get sent lots of digital promos by various companies / individuals – it’s a task and a half keeping up with them all, and became so time-consuming that I now forward the majority of them to someone who listens through on my behalf to check whether they’re applicable to what I play, for you’d be surprised at the amount of stuff I receive that if whoever sent it to me actually took the time listen to my mixes, they would surely realise that this is a track / mix that’s completely unsuitable for me.
There are obviously labels and artists I recognise, which I download into a file, before generally deleting the original emails so they don’t clog up my inbox any more than it already is. I rarely listen to anything I’ve downloaded immediately, but usually go through them all once a week, when I get a bit of time, in readiness for upcoming gigs.
In preparation for my recent appearances in Brighton and London, I was going through the stuff in the download file. An AIFF of the new Daft Punk single, ‘Get Lucky’ was amongst the contents, and it was at this point that I listened to it for the first time. I was immediately struck by the uplifting Disco vibe of the track – vaunted as the tune of the upcoming summer, I’d already read about it and was aware of the contribution of Nile Rodgers, whose trademark guitar licks have graced so many Disco and Dance classics.
However, it needed editing before I could play it out. Some of the looping felt pretty loose, or, to be more precise, was pretty loose, I could actually see that they didn’t quite join in the waveform, but I’d presumed Daft Punk had purposely wanted it wonky, and who was I to question them. That said, I needed a version to play out so I set about creating more space, re-arranging and tightening a few things up, but I decided to leave a few wonky touches in there, to go along with the vibe. The first thing I changed was the 4 bar loop at the intro – this started quietly but raised in volume, before going quiet again every time it looped around. I corrected this, making the volume consistent throughout the loop, as well as doubling from 4 to 8 measures, giving myself more room to mix in – I wanted a more DJ friendly intro, so the ups and downs in the levels needed to go, regardless of Daft Punk’s reasons for doing this in the first place. I then worked my way through the track, getting it the way I wanted it, mainly instrumental, but with an impact section of vocal providing the high point of the arrangement before the edit grooved to its conclusion. Here’s what I came up with:
Having put together an edit that suited my purposes, I played it that weekend to a big response. Fingerman, who was on before me in Brighton, also played an edit, by Disco Tech, and I’ve since seen / heard of numerous edits of the track - DJ’s, as is increasingly the way these days, wanting to put their own slant on things.
After the weekend I got to hear the radio version of 'Get Lucky' for the first time, which sounded a lot smoother than the one I’d been sent, complete with full vocal, so I wondered which mix it was I’d edited from, for it certainly wasn’t this one. I tried to find the original email with the download link, but realised I must have deleted it, so I searched online for clues to its source, without any joy. I happened to be exchanging emails that day with PR consultant Rosalia Ferrara, who’d done a brilliant job promoting the Loft Studios gig, and, on the off-chance, I asked her if she knew who’d been doing the promo on the Daft Punk single. Being the consummate professional she is, she contacted Sony, Daft Punk’s record company, but was told that they hadn’t sent out any digital downloads, and that I must have been mistaken. ‘Weird,’ I told her, ‘I definitely received one!’ She then relayed to me a message from Sony, asking them to let me know if I managed to figure out where the download had come from, and they reiterated that, as far as they were aware, it hadn't been serviced to club DJ’s. It was a mystery, and one which I’ve only just solved.
With it being a new release, I didn’t intend to share my edit, it was purely to play out myself, a ‘ruff edit’, as I call something I’ve quickly knocked together in this way, but it went up on YouTube yesterday, so people could have a listen, and it totted up a couple of thousand plays and a very positive response in no time. Then I noticed that someone had left a message saying that this was actually an edit of an edit by a London DJ called Richard Lee, and that the clue was in the ‘robot’s music’ sample, which had been at the end of the version I’d been emailed, and I’d used at various points of my edit. I clicked on the link provided and, sure enough, this was the self-same version I’d been sent – the ‘Robot’s Music Edit’. Check it out here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eIF37RbXCMc
Hidden away with nominal views and just 1 comment from Richard himself, saying, “this has been compiled from the various sources of snippets that are out there”, I’d finally found it – a homemade edit, rather than, as I’d believed, an official mix. All of a sudden the wonkiness made perfect sense! I then worked out where he’d he sourced it from – the ‘Collaborators’ clips that have been used in the promotional campaign for ‘Random Access Memories’. Here’s the Nile Rodgers episode, kicking off with the very loop I corrected the levels on – so that’s why it faded in in the first place!
I’ve been in contact with Richard now to explain that I hadn’t intended to supplant his edit. He said that his friend had actually been at my London gig and heard me play it, and he’d intended to be there himself, but couldn’t make it – he told me; “I know mine was a bit shaky in parts so I'm glad you could tweak it further and make it tighter”. He sent it to me on the off-chance I’d play it, but hadn’t expected it would have worked out this way. Despite its lack of precision, it certainly turned me onto the track, and I’m never going to forget how I first got to hear ‘Get Lucky’, so props to Richard Lee. This definitely is the Ruff Edit, in more ways than one, but there’s a lot of heart attached to it, which I think reflects itself within the edit, regardless of technical flaws, perhaps appropriately in keeping with Daft Punk’s stated desire to make things more human this time around.
*(added 01.05.13) following on from this piece, I’ve written an in-depth post exploring the continued relevance of Disco as Daft Punk’s monster hit, now #1 in countries all over the world, catapults the often misunderstood term back into mainstream consciousness: http://www.gregwilson.co.uk/2013/05/disco-now-disco-then/
Richie Havens died of a heart attack yesterday at his New Jersey home. He was 72.
Born in Brooklyn, Havens was drawn towards the artistic community of NYC’s Greenwich Village in the 50’s Beatnik era, where he originally performed poetry and drew portraits. He drank in the folk music that emanated from the Village, and which would come to change the world via the phenomenal rise of Bob Dylan in the early 60’s. Havens took up guitar and become a folk singer himself, eventually signing with Dylan’s manager Albert Grossman.
His greatest triumph was his memorable appearance as the opening act at the Woodstock Festival in 1969, which would (via the subsequent movie of the event) bring him to wider attention and result in a level of mainstream success, including a US Top 20 hit in 1971 with his cover of The Beatles’ ‘Here Comes The Sun’ (he recorded and performed numerous songs by The Beatles and Dylan). His mesmerising performance of ‘Freedom’, his closing number at Woodstock, which he improvised around the old Negro Spiritual, ‘Motherless Child’, provides the perfect example of the intense rhythmic guitar style for which he was famed, the song subsequently becoming an anthem of the Hippie movement.
Havens’ best known track in this country is his rousing version of ‘Going Back To My Roots’ (from his 1980 ‘Connections’ album), written and originally recorded by Lamont Dozier 3 years earlier. In the late 80’s this was heralded by Rave era DJ’s as a Balearic ‘discovery’, and would be the inspiration for the Italian House variant, ‘Rich In Paradise’ by the FPI Project. However, the DJ’s making this claim were obviously unaware of its previous legacy as a Jazz-Funk classic, a track any self-respecting black music specialist, myself included, was playing when it was first released. I was at Wigan Pier at the time, which hosted one of the UK’s leading Jazz-Funk nights, and remember Fred Dove, the club promotions manager at WEA (Warner / Elektra / Atlantic), the company that owned the rights to both recordings, pressing up a limited run DJ only 12” of ‘Going Back To My Roots’, with Richie Havens on one side, and long and shorter versions of Lamont Dozier on the other. Odyssey would have a big UK pop hit with their cover in 1981, so it’s a track, via all the various interpretations, that’s embedded firmly in the psyche of UK club culture. Since my DJ return I’ve played the Havens version (plus an extended edit courtesy of Killer Funk Disco Allstars) on many occasions, and it’s especially effective at festivals, where its euphoric intro never fails to uplift the crowd.
Vincent Montana, Jr. one of the unsung figures of the Disco era, died last Saturday, aged 85.
As vibraphonist and percussionist, Montana was a central member of MFSB, the legendary pool of studio musicians who recorded the music on so many classic Philadelphia International Records releases by acts including The O’Jays, Harold Melvin & The Bluenotes and the Three Degrees, as well as in their own name - ‘TSOP (The Sound Of Philadelphia)’ being their biggest hit (and the theme for the popular black music TV show ‘Soul Train’). Following a dispute with PIR kingpins Gamble & Huff over finances, several members of the group moved on to Salsoul Records, where they became known as the Salsoul Orchestra, Montana at the helm as its founder member and arranger / conductor.
In 1978, his own project on Atlantic Records, Goody Goody, scored a Disco hit Stateside with ‘#1 Dee Jay’. However, it was another track from the album, ‘It Looks Like Love’, that caught the attention of specialist DJ’s in the UK, becoming an underground favourite via the Jazz-Funk scene. It would also play a significant part in my 2003 comeback gig, as the closing track, whilst being one of my ’12 x 12’ selections for NYC’s Wax Poetics magazine in 2006 and featuring in my 2009 ‘Essential Mix’ for BBC Radio 1.
When Disco was discredited in the US in 1979, via the racist / homophobic ‘Disco Sucks’ movement, important figures like Montana were marginalised rather than celebrated as they should have been, slipping gradually into relative obscurity. Even today, a huge chunk of America’s cultural heritage remains largely shrouded, as Disco has never been able to recover from the damage done to its reputation in the US via this malicious campaign – the term still a dirty word for many.
Although he was no longer making hits, during the early 80’s 2 further Montana productions became massive underground favourites here in Britain, both topping my weekly floorfillers lists. In December 1982 it was ‘Heavy Vibes by the Montana Sextet, followed, 3 months later, by ‘Ooh, I Love It (Love Break)’ by the Salsoul Orchestra, which he wrote and produced. Appropriately, in the circumstances, it sits at #1 on my most recent Early 80’s Floorfillers chart: http://www.electrofunkroots.co.uk/greg-wilsons-top-10-floorfillers-march-83/
There’s a further coincidence, this time with regards to my head to head appearance, this coming Saturday, with NYC edit maestro Danny Krivit at Loft Studios in London. Krivit’s 80’s reworking of MFSB’s ‘Love Is The Message’, a quintessential New York Disco anthem, in which he incorporated parts of ‘Ooh, I Love It (Love Break)’ - the ‘Love’ in ‘Love Break’ referring to the track’s inspiration, ‘Love Is The Message’ – is now regarded as seminal to the current re-edits movement, well and truly setting the standard. Montana was, of course, involved with both tracks.
With Disco’s re-emergence in specialist circles during more recent times, Montana’s musical contributions belatedly gained appreciation from a younger generation of dance music enthusiasts via a double-album retrospective, compiling mainly Goody Goody and Montana Sextet / Orchestra tracks, called ‘Heavy Vibes’, released in 2002 on the Italian Temposhere label. This followed projects in the 90’s with New York DJ duo Masters At Work, and the British pop band, the Pet Shop Boys.
Interesting to see that ‘Ding-Dong! The Witch Is Dead’ stalled at #2 on the chart, unable to knock Duke Dumont off the top spot. Many will no doubt view this through cynical eyes, as it mirrors a similar situation 36 years ago when ‘God Save The Queen’ by the Sex Pistols failed to beat Rod Stewart to the summit, although a large percentage of people within the industry believed sales figures had been manipulated in order to save the royal family embarrassment amidst the Silver Jubilee celebrations.
In the case of ‘God Save The Queen’, the BBC had banned the record from the airwaves, whereas this time around an outright ban on a song taken from the soundtrack of one of the best-loved movies of all-time, ‘The Wizard Of Oz’ (1939), would have been seen as somewhat absurd. Instead, the BBC Radio 1 controller Ben Cooper decided it wouldn’t be banned, but Sunday's Official Chart Show would not play the 51-second song in full, restricting it to just 5 seconds! Further to this, when the chart was published on the BBC’s website, despite every other Top 40 track having a play function included (with the exception of the explicit ‘High School’ by Nicki Minaj & Lil Wayne), there was none for either ‘Ding-Dong! The Witch Is Dead’ or the ironic ‘I’m In Love With Margaret Thatcher’ (#35), an old Punk track from 1979 by The Notsensibles, written as an irreverent and satirical comment re the then new Prime Minister, but taken up by her supporters this week in a counter-campaign to try to head off ‘Ding-Dong!’ (the Notsensibles song had appeared in the film about her, ‘The Iron Lady’, from last year): http://www.bbc.co.uk/radio1/chart/singles
Which all goes to show that good old censorship is still alive and well, albeit via not so ingenious new methods, in the Britain of the 21st Century.
A week on Saturday I play a pretty special London gig at Loft Studios alongside NYC edit maestro Danny Krivit, the guy who set the standard back in the 80’s with his classic re-imagining of MFSB’s ‘Love Is The Message’, one of the quintessential New York Disco anthems. Full lowdown on the gig here, at Resident Advisor: http://www.residentadvisor.net/event.aspx?440816
This resulted in a secondary piece for the online magazine Discopia, called ‘Danny Krivit – Roller DJ’. Discopia unfortunately disappeared into the cyber ether not long after it was published, along with a whole host of other articles (not least a classic Danny Wang piece about his Disco awakening), so this provides me with the opportunity to re-publish here, highlighting a part of Disco culture that never really took a hold in the UK, but made a big impact Stateside.
So, rewind to 2006 when:
I recently spoke to New York DJ and edit master, Danny Krivit, whilst researching an article I was writing about Boogie. Danny is a true authority on the evolution of New York club culture, having experienced it all first hand, from The Loft and The Gallery onwards. Although I only needed to verify a few points with him, I took the opportunity to ask him some questions about the Roller Disco era of the 70’s and early 80’s, which played a major part in his illustrious DJ career.
As DJ at the Roxy, New York’s most celebrated roller rink, and, later, at Laces for a 10 year period, Danny’s knowledge on the subject is, once again, from direct experience. Furthermore, he not only played the music, but was an accomplished skater himself. A story often told about Danny is that, along with his girlfriend, Daphne Rubin Vega, he would frequently go to the Paradise Garage during the daytime and skate around the dancefloor whilst Larry Levan listened to new tunes over the legendary club’s soundsystem (Levan could also sometimes be found skating at the Roxy).
In 1982, with its popularity as a roller rink on the wane, the Roxy would convert into a dance club on Thursday, Friday and Saturday, attracting a Hip Hop audience as breakdancers, rather than roller skaters, now flocked to the venue. DJ’s like Afrika Bambaataa and Jazzy Jay played the tunes, whilst the Rock Steady Crew were its most famous b boys (the Rock Steady Crew can be seen battling the New York City Breakers at The Roxy in the film, ‘Beat Street’).
Roller Disco was imported to the UK, but never took off in the way it had in the States, so this is a part of dance culture that we know very little of in Britain.
Andrew Mason, from New York’s Wax Poetics magazine, had told me that Danny once explained to him that a slightly shuffled clap / snare on the 2nd and 4th beats (as opposed to a steady 4 on the floor beat) was best suited for skaters, who pushed off on alternate legs to that rhythm.
I started by asking Danny about this:
THE MUSIC: “There were certain things about certain genres of music, at the time, that were almost made ideally for skating. What would happen is that a record might be right in that tempo, like 110 or 120bpm, but if it wasn’t the right kind of groove, then it didn’t lend itself to roller skating. Basically, the tempo could go up very fast as long as it adhered to that type of rhythm. The ideal things at the time for roller skating was that whole trend of music that was kind of around the Solar sound (Shalamar, The Whispers, Dynasty etc).
“‘Good Times’ (Chic) was just the biggest thing, then you had Vaughan Mason (‘Bounce, Rock, Skate, Roll’), you had ‘Rappers Delight’ (Sugarhill Gang), you had 6 other records (in a similar style).
The music had not changed all that much, the audience just hated the title (Disco), there was a stigma about it, but there was a need for it. So this stuff was still coming out and places like the Garage were flourishing and you’d call it ‘Garage music’, because you couldn’t call it what you used to.
A good example of a fast record was ‘Super Freak’ (Rick James), where basically you’re not listening to the single drum, you’re listening to the snap. You also had a lot of records that were really ideal, but didn’t do the snap every time around – they skipped one. So it would be dum-dum-dum-dum-dum-dum-dum-snap. Those were like made to order.
In general, they were records that grooved. The Freestyle thing didn’t work, Hip Hop was very jagged, and a lot of the really good soulful stuff from the 70’s could be a bit too frantic. The other thing was that there was a real tendancy to get into downtempo stuff because you were playing these really crowded places and you had to use music as crowd control. People couldn’t enjoy themselves to fast records when you had a good party, so you would either have to break up the floor and have just men only, and let them go nuts, or, most of the time, you’d play much slower, in that 100 beats-per-minute area.
I was actually looking for records slower than that, and I remember when ‘Heartbeat’ (Taana Gardner) came out. People think of it now as this huge hit, but when it first came out clubs sneered at it. It was like ‘what do we play with that?’, because there was nothing out then, that was happening, around that tempo. It just sounded like you were on drugs, because there was no Hip Hop scene and the R&B scene was more radio or retro, but for roller skating it was just ideal.”
THE SKATERS: “The roller skating on the East Coast was very different to the West Coast. On the East Coast it was primarily indoors and a lot more controlled and crowded, and a little more rhythm orientated – a more deeper, harder kind of crowd. The West Coast was people skating outside really, and it was much whiter musically, and not very serious. I think that terms like ‘Roller Boogie’ and stuff were not as taboo on the West Coast. The film focused on the West Coast.
Primarily, the roller skating crowd (in New York) was usually 50% or more black. When the roller skating started to get more popular in the early-mid 80’s, that’s when I started seeing more white rinks, because before that those same rinks were ice skating rinks. It wasn’t exclusively black, but it was definitely more of an ethnic, you know, either a mixed crowd or more black or Latino.
When it started hitting in the late 70’s it was a mixed crowd leaning towards an ethnic crowd. Then, towards the early 80’s, it started splitting off. The serious skaters would be in the rinks that were predominantly black or Latino, mostly black, and the whiter rinks were really more novice, with skaters that looked like they were skating to any song – it didn’t matter.”
THE ROLLER DJ: “The rinks were very large, Roxy’s a good example, which, for roller skating, I had an unusually large crowd of maybe twelve hundred people. Twelve hundred people roller skating, cos they’re all moving around, is kind of like three or four thousand people dancing, cos they’re taking up that kind of space. The DJ booth, generally, in most rinks is in the centre. When I’m playing for a crowd and they try to stick you in some room, off to side or something, all the way up top or away from the crowd, where you just have this little window to look through, you’re getting the smallest little slither of their energy. When they put you in the middle you’re getting energy from the back of your head, everything’s hitting you from all the way round – like the pyramid philosophy, pyramid power. This was very different, you know, the whole thing of playing for them. It taught me about really playing on the groove and not just beat on beat mixing, cos you can make perfect mixes that just aren’t in the groove.
Most places had a microphone, you need it for crowd control. I wasn’t saying this record’s this or that, but plenty of times I’d have to say ‘slow down, as this guy fell over here’ or ‘now I want all the ladies to clear the floor, it’s going to be men only’ or ‘couples only’ or that we’re going to reverse, you know, that kind of stuff.”
DANNY KRIVIT ROXY PLAYLIST JANUARY 1980
And The Beat Goes On / Out The Box – The Whispers
Computer Game “Theme From Circus” – Yellow Magic Orchestra
I Shoulda Loved Ya – Narada Michael Walden
I’m Caught Up – Inner Life
I Wanna Be Your Lover / Sexy Dancer – Prince
I Wanna Rock You – Giorgio
Just A Touch Of Love’ – Slave
Love Injection – Trussel
Masterjam (LP) – Rufus
Off The Wall (LP) – Michael Jackson
Rotation – Herb Alpert
Sing Sing Sing – Charlie Callello Orchestra
Second Time Around / Right In The Socket – Shalamar
Vertigo (medley) / Relight My Fire (medley) – Dan Hartman
You Know How To Love Me / Under Your Spell – Phyllis Hyman
When I decided to write this I had absolutely no idea what I was about to unleash. The past 48 hours has seen the piece, and Nina’s reaction to it, go global, as the issues raised by her Between The Beats appearance were debated by club communities in every continent, whilst the dance media, not wishing to look a gift horse in the mouth, spun-off the story of Nina’s Facebook response, with the bonus beats of Maceo Plex’s criticism of her providing a further sub-plot. Bubblebathgate had taken on a life of its own as it swept through the DJ world like wildfire.
My blog stats went literally off the scale. It was clear on Monday that this was going to be amongst my most viewed blog posts to date, but by Tuesday it was a done deal as it superseded everything I’ve posted previously by a long shot, and there’s been some really massive posts, like ‘How Clubbing Changed The World?’, ‘Jimmy Savile – DJ Originator Or More Smoke And Mirrors?’, ‘Celebration Of The Mediocre’ and ‘The Haçienda DJ Booth’. The only thing that came anywhere close to this statistical spike was when BBC News once linked directly to the blog, but whilst that pretty much levelled out again the next day, this proceeded to go into orbit, the site visited by 5 times as many people on day 2! Suffice to say, it’s been a veritable skyscraper of a post for me, and keeping up with all the developments has been a task within itself.
So it doesn’t take much to work out the sheer scale of this – it’s not just a case of what’s happening on my own blog, but all the other online sources, including Resident Advisor, Mixmag, Fact, Beatport and many others (whilst The Independent have published an edited version of the piece). Then, of course, there’s all the various hives of activity via Facebook and Twitter – Nina’s own FB has surely never seen such sustained activity, maybe a taste of what’s to come as her growing fanbase rallies ever closer around her. What’s for sure is that thousands, probably tens of thousands, of people who’d never heard of Nina Kraviz at the start of this week, certainly know the name now (with a healthy percentage bound to be exploring her music as a consequence). If this had been a carefully orchestrated publicity stunt it would have been hailed as brilliant, but there’s much more substance to it than that, because it happened organically – the genie inadvertently let out of the bottle.
If my statement that Nina was ‘destined for DJ superstardom, if she really wants it’ might have been seen as somewhat bold last Monday, today that possibility is significantly closer. This avalanche of attention must have come as a big shock for Nina herself – it’s undoubtedly a moment in time for her career as, all of a sudden, she’s under a weight of scrutiny, some considering her as a breath of fresh air, others viewing her more cynically, but all interested in what moves she makes next. It’s game on from here for Nina and, as she navigates her way through the next phase, what should always be taken into account is that there’s one huge curveball in all of this – Nina is not a Westerner, she’s from Siberia, not Shepherd's Bush, she’s going to look at things from a different angle.
Had it just been about Nina’s career the post would, I’m sure, have been well received, in a similar way to how others I’ve written about contemporary DJ’s have been, but there’s a more universal theme that weaves through all of this – the serious yin to the frivolous yang. Although the whole bubble bath thing seems a bit silly on the surface (a humorous off-shot of this hoo-ha is the appearance of the ‘DJ’s Having A Bath’ site), the reason why this has really touched a nerve is to do with the more serious underlying issues at play. So, if it causes a few people to look at their opinions and prejudices, then it’s served a greater purpose.
Whether we may or may not agree with Nina’s actions, they’ve undoubtedly served to highlight the institutionalised sexism within the DJ world, and although her methods may not sit right for some, her rallying call, ‘sexism and all similar bullshit must die’, is a sentiment we should all stand firmly behind.
Last month Resident Advisor, nowadays the essential online portal through which the various aspects and avenues of global dance culture can be explored, sparked something of a rumpus in DJ circles with their short film about Siberian DJ / producer Nina Kraviz, the first in their new Between The Beats series.
Following Nina throughout a run of gigs in Bulgaria, Belgium and Germany, and soundtracked by her own music, the piece provides a snapshot of life on the road for the touring DJ, with, in addition to the actual club appearances, its constant round of airports and hotels. It’s really well shot and edited, and the camera absolutely adores Nina, who, to state the glaringly obvious, is blessed with stunning natural beauty – and it’s this that lays at the very crux of the controversy.
Female DJ’s have always found themselves sexualised in a way that the men have never had to endure. This has warped people’s perceptions of many a DJ who just happened to be female. The fact that they’re described as a ‘female DJ’ in the first place muddies the waters, for the sex / physicality of the person has no bearing on their ability to do the job. Back when I started out, in the days when British DJ’s still used the microphone, there was a body of thought that said the lower male voice was the ‘more authentic’, and the higher female voice ‘just didn’t sound right’. This is something that went back to radio, which was dominated by male presenters. As a result, female DJ’s were largely regarded as a gimmick, a ‘dolly bird’ for the blokes to ogle over (at the extreme of this mentality you even had the ‘topless DJ’), and to be taken seriously, as someone who might actually know how to present music, was almost an impossibility.
Even now, the sexist fallout is apparent, women still afforded but a nominal role. Just look at any Top DJ lists and you’ll only find a token presence where the fairer sex is concerned. Sadly it’s often more about what she looks like than what she plays, and it must still be so difficult to break out of that stereotype and make it on your own terms if you’re born to have breasts rather than balls.
So when, in an otherwise thoughtful, somewhat pensive piece, with Nina musing on questions of illusion and loneliness, she allowed herself to be interviewed in a manner that many people would say played right into this stereotype, firstly bikini clad on a beach, but most contentiously, submerged in a bubble bath, she really set the cat amongst the pigeons.
It certainly got people talking - the forum at Resident Advisor illustrating the split in opinion that ensued, some of the comments quite condemning, others supportive. There’s rarely a middle ground, although one post (by borstal-scum) summed up these polar extremes; “Can't decide if this is a sensitive portraiture of the alternately euphoric and melancholic lifestyle of a very good DJ and sensitive individual, or a crass, borderline sexist bit of promotion with some pretentious emoting and camera direction to give the illusion of gravitas? A bit of both, perhaps”.
Elsewhere, warehamtn took Nina to task, quoting her own words back at her; "'to be a woman, in this profession, is really not easy sometimes’ – (she) said pushing foam around lying naked in a bath... what’s Russian for irony Nina?”, whilst wnb20 questioned the motives of Resident Advisor in making the film in the first place; “the opening beach scene and hed kandi esq slow-mo shots of her back. Really necessary? It's basically saying she might be a good DJ, but we really like her because she's hot”. Regarding it as little more than trite titillation, chriswoodward remarked; “if Nuts magazine did DJ documentaries” and concluded that; “she should have just gone the whole hog and done it topless”.
On the other side of the debate Rory weighed in with: “In terms of the bathroom/beach shots, I think Nina has always seemed to embrace her sexuality as part of her personality. If she's comfortable with that I don't see that it was anyway degrading or that it detracts from her skills as a DJ and producer”. This was a point endorsed by ForeverDelayed; “The amount of beta males in here would be laughable if it wasn't so painfully endemic in the dance music scene. Nina is a great producer/DJ and also a gorgeous woman, who seems to have no problem embracing her sexuality, so why should you?” Over on YouTube fooze212 1 offered an insightful analysis: “I see these scenes as a type of commentary of the images and narrative that is surrounding Nina. I think she understands the myths and imagery that is being created around her as a person, and in fact this documentary debates those very illusions. I think this documentary is way smarter than just ‘showing some candy’. It recreates the myths and then debates them while still maintaining the illusion and sucking the viewer into it.”
From the moment she steps behind a set of decks, Nina’s looks are always going to garner the attention of a great many people (and not just male, for she has that androgynous quality that attracts a more universal eye), so, in the furtherance of her career, how she deals with this is always going to be an issue. The main thing is that she deals with it on her own terms – that if there’s any manipulating to be done it’s by her, and not to her. She needs to be the mistress of her own myth, for this whole scrutiny is only going to get bigger and bigger, and the bigger it gets the more under the microscope she becomes. Nina is destined for DJ superstardom, if she really wants it – to put it in marketing terms, she’s the complete package.
I should tell you, at this point, that I’ve followed Nina’s emergence with particular interest. Back in 2007 I issued her first single, when she was still a member of the Moscow-based dance act MySpaceRocket, on my short-lived B77 label (the only other B77 release being Sugardaddy’s ‘Hypnotise’, before the distribution company, Goya, unfortunately went belly up).
I’d met Nina in October 2006 when she was one of the participants who’d landed a place on the Red Bull Music Academy in Melbourne. She’d attended my lecture (which you can see here: http://www.redbullmusicacademy.com/lectures/greg-wilson--credit-to-the-edit), and immediately afterwards came over to talk to me. We spoke about New York Disco / Dance culture of the 70’s and early 80’s, and it was clear that this was someone who wasn’t just interested in making a career for herself as a DJ, but also immersing herself in the history surrounding it. She told me she’d originally moved to Moscow to study dentistry, but her heart was set on making the grade as a DJ and producer, specialising in House and Techno.
She played me a track she’d recorded with MySpaceRocket called ‘Amok’, and its brooding atmospherics, topped off by her sultry spoken word delivery, really caught my attention. This wasn’t the usual dance fare, but something refreshingly different that ticked all the boxes for inclusion on the new label I had in mind, which I’d wanted to span the dance spectrum, rather than confine itself to a narrow area. With Nina keen to collaborate, I suggested a 12” with the original version on one side and my own, which I put together from the stems, on the other. To tie-in with this piece I’ve just uploaded my version of ‘Amok’ onto SoundCloud:
Further to this, whilst at home working on the track with the TV on, but turned down, I made the serendipitous discovery that the original of ‘Amok’ fitted hand in glove with the visuals from Norman McLaren’s groundbreaking ‘Pas De Deux’, an animation enhanced ballet from 1968, which had won numerous awards at the time, and picked up an Oscar nomination in the process. Combining these 2 elements as an audio / visual mash-up under the title of ‘Pas D’Amok’, a limited data disc, which also included both versions issued on the 12”, was put together for promotional purposes. Even though there was just over a minute’s difference in length between ‘Pas De Deux’ and ‘Amok’, there was a natural visual resolution as the audio concluded. You can watch it here:
Having left MySpaceRocket, Nina went solo, finding the perfect fit with the independent UK based label Rekids, which had been formed by Matt Edwards (aka Radio Slave) and James Masters. Matt had also delivered a lecture of his own at the Melbourne Red Bull Academy. Nina’s Rekids debut in 2009 was ‘Pain In The Ass’, which was coupled on 12” with the x-rated ‘I’m Gonna Get You’, serving to crystalize her image as the femme fatale of the electronic dance world. She’s also issued material on a variety of other labels, and her first album, the self-titled ‘Nina Kraviz’, was released on Rekids last year.
In 2011 I was contacted by a European management company who handle some high-profile DJ’s. They were interested in adding Nina to their roster and emailed me asking for my thoughts, given that I’d previously worked with her. I replied as follows: “I think she could be huge. On a personal level, I just didn’t have the time to get really involved, although I completely understood her potential and had I been looking to manage someone she’d have been the perfect candidate. She’s smart, she knows her music and, quite obviously, she’s a marketing dream. I saw a YouTube clip of one of her tracks recently, which had a significant number of views (in the tens of thousands rather than the thousands) – it seemed to me that she’s really beginning to hit her stride, and I’d totally recommend that you sign her up, if that’s what you have in mind. The other person, apart from Nina, that made a big impression on me at the Red Bull Music Academy in Melbourne was Aloe Blacc, and just look how things have panned out for him”.
Since that time her stock has risen considerably, and she’s begun to acquire friends and supporters in high places, blogging for Hugo Boss (for whom she is now the face of their Deep Red fragrance campaign), whilst receiving the ‘Johnny Depp’ seal of approval when one of her tracks, ‘Taxi Talk’ was in a Beatport chart attributed to him last year. Nina is in great demand as a DJ, booked up for months in advance playing at clubs and events worldwide – between now and June she’s appearing in Germany, Japan, Australia, France, Ibiza, the UK and the US. Her online Boiler Room appearances have been watched by hundreds of thousands of people. Here’s the most recent, from Berlin last February: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xogJgUteDAs
The Resident Advisor short will only enhance her status, the controversy surrounding it feeding into the growing Kraviz mythology, both personally orchestrated and organic, which now accompanies her career. She’s been dealt the exotic role of Siberian temptress, and, even though she might not have asked for it, how she plays it from here is crucial to her ambitions. She knows this better than anyone, which is why I’m confident she’ll find the right balance between the illusion and the reality. With all that’s happened in the past year, since her album was released, and with her fan base ever-growing at a rate of knots, the ante has been significantly upped in recent months.
Nina’s femininity is both her passport to fame and fortune and the stick with which she’ll be beaten. It’s clear from the Resident Advisor comments that she polarises opinion, but this is generally the case when anybody that’s a little bit different comes along and refuses to play by the established rules, resisting the pigeonholing that someone with a weaker will might yield to. I trust she’ll box clever, as she generally has so far – her desire to be regarded first and foremost as a DJ and producer to be reckoned with helping her avoid the pitfalls that she’ll continually encounter. There’s a price to be paid for desire – some can be cursed to be just too good looking. This she must both endure and explore.
Some will never give her credit, to them she’ll always be up behind the decks on false pretences, not because she’s a skilled DJ, but because she’s a pretty face. Others will tell her ‘if you say you want to be taken seriously don’t feed into the stereotypes’. They’ll wonder why she could have been so gullible as to let the big bad Resident Advisor talk her into bikini and bath. They’d no doubt like to wrap a worldly wise arm around her and keep her safe from harm, safe from herself, but I think it’s a serious misjudgement to assume that she’s some poor little lamb lost in the woods who doesn’t know what she’s doing, all naïve and ripe for exploitation.
Nina’s making her own statement, and regardless of whether or not you might agree with her, or even like the music she records and plays, she’s saying something – she’s causing a reaction and sparking debate. I find it refreshing that she often doesn’t do what people expect her to – in an ever more conformist world it’s reassuring to see anyone out there with maverick tendencies. I’m not saying that she doesn’t or won’t make errors of judgement, mistakes are a part of the journey, but remember, this is no wilting flower we’re talking about here, she’s big enough and ugly enough to take care of herself.
This Sunday (March 7th) at 9pm, you’re invited to share a listening session with some likeminded souls, wherever you might be. This can be experienced either alone or communally, and you don’t need to leave the comfort of your own home to participate. If it’s not possible to make the allotted time, hopefully you can join in at your convenience at some point during the following weeks. See update here: http://www.gregwilson.co.uk/2012/07/living-to-music-update-july-2012/
The Plastic Ono Band was originally a vehicle for John Lennon’s collaborations with Yoko Ono, with whom he’d begun both a personal and an artistic relationship in 1968. The Beatles were still together at this point, and Yoko would become a scapegoat for their demise, the group eventually splitting in 1970.
The first Plastic Ono Band single would be ‘Give Peace A Chance’, recorded in a Montreal hotel room in July 1969 during the 2nd leg of the infamous ‘bed-in’ that followed John & Yoko’s Gibraltar wedding (the first bed-in was in Amsterdam). 2 further hits, ‘Cold Turkey’ and ‘Instant Karma’, would follow, as well as a live album, ‘Live Peace In Toronto 1969’, when the couple were joined on stage by musicians Eric Clapton (guitar), Klaus Voormann (bass), and Alan White (drums).
John & Yoko then recorded 2 albums simultaneously, the covers of which were identical, apart from the positioning of the couple, who were lazing under tree. One was called ‘Yoko Ono / Plastic Ono Band’, the other ‘John Lennon / Plastic Ono Band’ – the first solo offering by the former Beatle. Co-produced by Phil Spector (although he was absent for much of the recording, John & Yoko doing the lion's share of work), Klaus Voormann and Ringo Starr, along with John, made up the core musicians, with Billy Preston and Spector playing piano on a track apiece, ‘God’ and ‘Love’.
The LP was also referred to as the ‘primal’ or ‘primal scream’ album, because it was recorded just after the Lennon’s had undergone primal therapy with the American psychologist Arthur Janov, whose book ‘The Primal Scream’ had made a big impression on the couple, especially John, for whom it touched a particularly personal chord, enabling him to express the long-repressed childhood pain that had shaped his life. These raw emotions informed ‘John Lennon / Plastic Ono Band’, which Rolling Stone magazine, when placing it at #23 on its list of The 500 Greatest Albums of All Time, described as ‘a pure, raw core of confession that, in its echo-drenched, garage-rock crudity, is years ahead of punk’.
Whilst 1971’s more polished ‘Imagine’ was the most commercially successful Lennon solo album, ‘John Lennon / Plastic Ono Band’ remains, for my money, the quintessential release by any of the ex-Beatles – an album of real heart and substance, documenting with honesty and artistic integrity John’s emotional and mental state at that critical juncture in his career, with The Beatles behind him and his move to New York still ahead.
Your own thoughts are always welcomed, and, should you join us for Sunday’s session, it’d be great if you could leave a comment here after you’ve listened to the album sharing your impressions – how the music affected you, who you listened to it with, where you were, plus anything else relevant to your own individual / collective experience.
I’m a DJ from Merseyside. I started out in 1975, but stopped for almost 20 years, between 1984 and the end of 2003, at which point I started again.
One night during the period I wasn’t deejaying, turning off my mind, relaxing, and floating downstream I had what might be termed a moment of clarity. Paradoxically, although I was no longer a DJ in the literal sense I suddenly became aware that I’d never actually stopped being a DJ, for even if I was in a room with just one person I couldn’t help but ask them ‘have you heard this?’, and not only ‘heard’, but ‘have you seen this / read this?’, for it goes beyond music. Already taken somewhat aback by this nugget of self-discovery, I realised, in true eureka style, that this all pre-dates my being a DJ and goes back as far as I can remember – I’ve always had an inherent need to share, it’s absolutely central to my nature. This was quite a revelation.
So it’s no wonder that I became a Disc Jockey, for once I fell in love with those circular pieces of magical plastic during my formative years, it wasn’t a matter of choosing this as a path, the path pretty much chose me.
I don’t intend this to be a DJ blog as such, but more a blog by someone who happens to be a DJ – a place where personal emphasis takes precedence over professional, although, as I’ve already explained, the two aspects are, of course, inescapably entwined.
If you want info about my DJ appearances, email greg@gregwilson.co.uk for regular updates.
now with
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