I don't dance but I think of the twist, Northern Soul, Sylvester and the Cockettes, the lush, technologically ingenious Philly Sound (especially the Futures' Stay With Me), the Staple Singers, Isley Brothers, the Temptations, Barry White, and the hi-hat sound they say started with Mighty Earl Young, who was upping the tempo drumming for the Intrudes. I think of Harold Melvin and the Blue Notes, The Trammps, the Stylistics, the Salsoul Orchestra, the mood manipulating emergence of the synthesiser and rudimentary electronic music, and the impact at the edge of all this, of, say, Gary Glitter, Osibisa, Serge Gainsbourg, but that might just be my mind spinning further and further out of control. I think of the editing, extending and repeating of the parts of a song that worked best on the dance floor to create pieces of music that lasted longer and longer, three minute seven inch pop songs being turned into eight, nine, ten minute 12-inch disco version.
I think of a black original being copied for the white market, and look no further than on the one hand, the Jackson 5, and on the other, the Osmonds.
I think of punchy horns popped against smooth strings, imaginative percussion — claves, woodblocks, bongos etc — to beef things up, and a great drum sound, built up, tuned in, spaced out. A good gimmick always comes in useful. What comes out of all this is an airy, bouncy kind of a sound; tight, but not in the sense of clean and compact, as you might apply the word to Southern funk from Memphis or Muscle Shoals. And, like the great Motown productions, custom-made for car radios.
I think of rock experts thinking that a lot of the music that flowed into disco, especially from the sleeker, softer Philly part of the word, was too ephemeral and superficial, and what with one thing and another agreeing with them for a while.
And therefore not really thinking too much at the time of the Chic giving a bruised disco lilt to Orange Juice.
I think of buying Betty Wright's Clean Up Woman.
I think of Can's I Want More.
I think of Van McCoy's The Hustle.
I think that to really get to grips with all this you need to read Peter Shapiro's great Turn The Beat Around: The Secret History of Disco, how disco slipped through the turbulent pushy nervy 70s New York from eclectic minded counter culture to soulless commercialism. You should read Bill Brewster and Frank Broughton's definitive documenting of a neglected history, Last Night A DJ Saved My Life, especially if you still think along the lines of these characters from the Detroit Rock City film:
Christine: Hey, you know what? Disco's so fucking big right now, I wouldn't be suprised if KISS did a disco song.
Lex: Man, if there's one thing KISS will never do, it is a bullshit disco song.
Jam: No shit man! Trip: Yeah man. Disco blows dogs for quarters man!
You should read Vince Aletti's memoir The Disco Files 1973-1978: New York's Underground Week by Week, a collection of his columns for Record World. Aletti was a critic for early rock magazines including Creem, Rolling Stone and Crawdaddy, but one of the very rare rock writers that noticed and then documented the emergence, coalescing and success of what became known as disco. He was using the word 'disco' as a way of describing a sound not just a location pretty much before anyone else:
'One of the most spectacular discotheque records in recent months is a perfect example of the genre: Manu Dibango's Soul Makossa. Originally a French pressing on the Fiesta label, the 45 was being largely undistributed by an African import company in Brooklyn when 'a friend' brought it to the attention of DJ Frankie Crocker. Crocker broke it on the air on New York's WBLS-FM, a black station highly attuned to the disco sound, but the record was made in discotheques where its hypnotic beat and mysterious African vocals drove people crazy. Within days, Soul Makossa was the underground record and when copies of the original 45 disappeared at $3 and $4, cover versions (many unlicensed and one a pirated copy put out under another group's name) were rushed out. Atlantic Records stepped into this confusion, bought the U.S. rights and had both the single and an album out on their own label days later...'
Vince Aletti, from Discoteque Rock Paaaaarty, published in Rolling Stone, 13 September 1973.
Vince Aletti's memoir, The Disco Files 1973-1978: New York's Underground Week by Week is available now, published by DJhistory.com.
Bill Brewster is the co-author of Last Night A DJ Saved My Life: The History of the Disc Jockey.