Leave Them Burning and Then You’re Gone
Remember when America managed to legitimately kill a genre of music?
July 12, 1979 was the day they killed her, that’s the day the music died. The movement represented such a repulsive rejection of music that even Don McLean’s magnum opus would fail to adequately capture what transpired on that tragic day at Comiskey Park.
“Disco Demolition Night”, as billed by promoter Steve Dahl, was a culmination of anti-disco sentiments that had dogged the genre for years. Placed in betwixt a double-header between the White Sox and the Tigers, a crate filled with disco records was set to explode on the field. Upon detonation, fans rushed the field in protest of the faultless scene. Paranoid rock n’ roll enthusiasts worried about their music being “taken over” got their way, and knocked the trending genre from its peak: it was an act straight out of Fahrenheit 451…it was the downfall of disco.
Following America’s betrayal of the musical form, disco was relegated to skating rinks and children’s karaoke parties, as a neglected facilitator of cheap nostalgia that dominated the 80's and 90's. It was a “cheesy” oddity, a compilation of giant afros, bell-bottoms, and shallow, mindless dance music. Acts like Velvet Underground, David Bowie and The Kinks were heralded as pioneers by their respective scenes, but no one emerged to claim disco as an influential parent. Even critically acclaimed bands that emulated many of disco’s characteristics (like Earth, Wind, and Fire) were plucked from the genre and placed in the soul/funk canon along with Sly Stone and others that ironically avoided the toxic terms “groove”, and “boogie”. It’s no small coincidence that funk’s musical derivatives often bleed together; they’ve tried to avoid the tainted label of disco.
If music history has taught us anything, it’s that you can’t completely end a style. Disco, in the form of a Donna Summer’s ballad, or a Bee Gee falsetto, may never exist again, but the tradition, its core elements, lives on in newer forms. Disco was always mischaracterized. It wasn’t a low culture activity punctuated by dancing and a lack of emotional depth. Rather, it was escapism. It was an outlet for lyrical expression with danceable instrumentals. Disco was an all-inclusive style, welcoming all races and sexualities. It offered a way to break out of the macho rule of law that dominated past decades, and eased outcasts in with unperfected dance moves and a welcoming culture.
Today, you won’t find disco lurking amongst the Top 40 charts, but rather in the vast tag of electronic music. The purveyors of “nu-disco” still encapsulate the aesthetics of its seemingly-archaic predecessor. Successful acts such as Bag Raiders, Cut Copy, Tensnake, and even the all-encompassing electronic entity that is Daft Punk have revived the style with innovative beats and a use of synth and keyboards.
That’s where the authenticity of nu-disco lies, in the new artist’s ability to embrace the quirks and qualities that made the original so enjoyable. Listeners banded together in the 1970’s to create a style that allowed expression, and that wasn’t dictated by a set of protocols—it was about a sense of enjoyment and community, an idea that fortunately survived the night of Demolition Disco, and still elicits passion in its most current form, nu-disco.
