Yup; another lyric title; this time good ol' Frank Zappa.
"Disco Boy … Run to the toilet and comb your hair."
To take my mind off the pain in my foot, Katie had me singing "Disco Inferno" at three o'clock this morning (see yesterday's comments).
Which kinda helped …
But it also reminded me that I have never really understood the strange beast that is the "discotheque."
Of course, back in the golden age of my youth there was no such thing and life was blissful in the Garden of Eden.
People danced to live bands.
They talked and socialised in the intervals between sets.
Life was intercoursingly groovy.
People even wanted to listen to a bunch of teenagers playing Mahavishnu Orchestra, Yes and Focus songs.
And then it all went poo-shaped.
I remember the first time I met a discotheque.
It was the early seventies and we had been having problems in the band with girls inexplicably wanting to listen to David Cassidy and "go down the disco" in preference to watching a spotty kid in glasses play a twenty minute guitar solo.
I still can't figure that one out.
Sigh …
Much against my better judgement I decided to see what was so wonderful about this "new craze" that would drag girls away from real music.
So I got dressed up in my best flares and a flowery shirt with a collar that would not look out of place billowing from the mast of an America's Cup racing yacht.
To which spectacular sartorial splendour I added the indescribable aroma of Brüt (the ad for which had elderly boxer Henry Cooper growling "Splash it on all over!" … probably not the most alluring image for teenage girls).
Thus rendered as irresistible as I could be to the fair sex I ventured forth and … er … bicycled into town.
Where I forked over perfectly good money (something I still resent having had to do) only to find myself in a large, dark room with some flashing lights and somebody playing records loudly.
What the fuck?
People were actually PAYING to have someone play records at them?
I could go home and do that.
With far better records!
So I did.
I've never been in another one.
My drummer couldn't figure it out either.
"I mean what the fuck's that all about? It just goes THUD - CLAP - THUD - CLAP on and on and on. Where's the skill in that? It could just as well be a bloody machine."
Prophetic words indeed. I have quite a collection of drum machines.
Years later I found myself booked to play in a grown-ups' disco, or what was termed a "night club".
It's the only time I've ever been in one of those, too.
My idea of a good time would never even come CLOSE to … er … jigging up and down in a sweaty crowd in the dark, having people scream into my ear to be heard whilst paying more for a round of drinks than I did for my car.
Somebody PLEASE tell me: What the fuck is the point of discos and nightclubs? Why do people go there?
To scream at strangers in a dark room?
To get covered in beer and sweat?
It can't be to socialise as you can't see or hear one another.
Help me out here.
What's the story?
It's not just that I'm old; I felt the same way at thirteen.
Sometimes I feel that not only was I born in the wrong decade, I was born into the wrong species.
23 comments:
no clue, sugar...maybe as a reaction to all the peace and love of the 60's? a logical outgrowth of sex, drugs and rock & roll? mass hysteria? xoxo
( missed the disco club scene - i spent most of the 70's with child) ;-)
Hee hee.
A kind of mass hysteria after a decade of peace and love makes sense to me, Savannah.
The same hysteria/insanity that caused all of the miniskirted girls at school to suddenly wear "maxi-skirts" down to their ankles … surely only insanity can explain that!
I am not a Disco/Night Club girl either. I prefer to choose my own music and sit peacefully and safely at home and drink myself silly.
Ah, the flares, the huge collars, the moves, the records, the flashing lights...
Yeah the flashing lights and the disco ball, what WAS all that about? That said, though i didn't go to many, i did enjoy them! It wasn't really about the lights or even the music to some extent. Although when your 'favourite' came on, it felt good to throw yourself around the floor for a mad three minutes, then walk sedately off in a ladylike way to the following eyes of the boys. Yep that felt good. My name is Lynn and it felt good!
Oh then there were the slow dances. Having to sway with Matt or someone, whose hands you had to keep de-railing, whilst really you wanted to smooch with his mate Dave. Then Dave would come over and his hands would be allowed a millimetre further than Matt's. Details of which would be sniggered over in the ladies' loo soon after with your giggly girlfriends. Ah the memories.
I do have these early memories but in fact could count on one hand how many discos i went to. Honestly, i preferred to read and play my own choices at home, yep, whilst diligently cultivating my voice for the inevitable replacing of Barbra Streisand or Diana Ross when they felt tired and gave me a call.
I'm not sure why people went to discos (I'm just a wee bit too young to have been able to frequent such places, although I remember having to learn "The Hustle" in gym class), but as you have proven, it's just about the mindless music that makes you want to shake your booty (or burned food).
The mere thought of a disco tune changed your mood at 3 am after you had suffered a kitchen accident! I think that's what people were probably after; music that didn't make them think, just made them want to dance. Even today it's amazing how many people jump up on the dance floor when a mindless disco hit gets played.
Ok, I wrote this before I saw Lynn's comment, but then I forgot to type in my user info. Lynn sounds like you had some fun times at the disco, even if you're hesitant to admit it! Sounds like two votes for the mindless music that makes you want to shake your bustle!
People go to night clubs to drink overpriced spirits,listen to crap music and end up shagging a stranger in the corner and coming home with the clap.
Blame it on the excesses of Studio 54.
So what happened to your foot? Did you need to go the drop-in? I was 3 and thirsty and my cousin said she was going to pour me a drink. She left something on the kitchen counter and I thought that was for me. Obviously, I picked up and found it too hot and spilled the boiling water down my chest. I'm sure it was painful, and my dad was so scared I'd die or something because my upper body was wrapped in gauze at the hospital. I was scarred (literally) for about 20 years.
Can't say I've been to a 'discotheque'. Not something we had in the late 80's. Hehe.
Maxi skirts Dive? HAHA Oh yes, You and Phil might in fact be like Frasier and Niles Crane. That's even funnier to think about though.
Well, I did enjoy getting my dance on in the late 80's but never with a guy, always solo and oblivious of them. Later, when clubs seemed more pickupy(clearly not a word you and Niles would use) I never really cared to go. And now they would make me feel way to much the van driving mother I am. ;)
I do like the music from that time I'm afraid. The girls are right, it makes you want to just bop all around the room forgetting your burns er, I mean cares.
Hope your foot is surviving the big walks.
Prudence: I'm with you, every time.
Pass the red wine.
Cheers!
Lynn the Dancing Queen! Hee hee. I'll bet those boys left trails of drool all over the dancefloor.
Barbra Streisand and Diana Ross, eh? You really want to be a gay icon?
Katie: You've done it again. Now I've got "Do The Hustle" stuck in my head.
Doh!
I must confess to a sneaking regard for Nile Rogers (Chic's producer and guitarist) but back then we were "earnest musicians" and to like disco was a hanging offence.
What idiots we were. We should have swallowed our pride and chased girls around the dancefloor.
Kate: That's what I always thought. When I drive home from gigs and see the dregs of society vomiting and fighting outside nightclubs it reinforces that opinion.
Shan: Yes, the dreaded "maxi-skirt"; feminist riposte to the miniskirt and the saddest and most tragic event of my teenage years.
Phil and myself are SO Frasier and Niles.
Just like Frasier, I go "Ooh! Ooh!" and jump about with delight when The Opera Quiz comes on the radio;
I wipe over the chair in the coffee shop with a handkerchief before sitting down;
We are both insufferable wine and food and music snobs and proud of it;
If you ever get to meet us you would probably just point and laugh yourself silly.
Pickupy! Hee hee. You got a Niles style facial expression from me on that one!
My foot is much better, thank you. Not quite up to doing the Hustle but not far off.
Just so.
Although I suppose you will want to be president of The Wine Society?
He he he.
Want?
I AM the President of the Wine Society!
Bahahaha! One of my friends moms likened me to Ros once. But really I look like Ros and act oblivious more like Daffney. Either way, I could sit around and point and laugh at your fussiness. That would be great fun! :D I miss that show.
I have to admit that I spent a mountain of money at night clubs back in the 80's. I think the original drawer was women but I think it becomes a lifestyle. A place to see and be seen and feel in your little pathetic brain you are of some importance. I laugh now when I think about those days. And How I wish I had all that money back.
I have been to one disco in my entire life and I had the worst headache of my life from it. Plus, we were all like stampeding rhinos on this floor that lit up like a pinball game. There was no place to sit if you left the dance floor, so most of us just stayed and kept bopping up and down and then went home with bleeding ears.
God, we were stupid. But, I was only stupid ONCE.
Discos - God I do remember them - way back when .....when I had no sense of taste (in drinks or music)and the hearing of a mine explosives expert who lost his ear plugs!!!
Hope your foot is ok!!!
Shan: Roz Doyle … Ooooh. I had such a crush on Roz.
Not so much on Daphne as - even though she's an English actress - her fake Manchester accent was so appallingly bad.
Frasier was one of only three American TV shows I ever liked enough to buy all the DVDs (along with the Simpsons and Buffy). They get funnier and more exquisitely excruciating with every passing year.
Rich: Holy Moly! The thought of our lovely Rich as a predatory, woman-hunting 1980s clubber is shocking, yet strangely hilarious.
Please, PLEASE post a photo from back then (it can't be as bad as my ponytail and pointy sideburns).
I'm glad you got through it and retained your sanity.
Maria: Even someone as cool and smart as you has to try these things at least once. If you'd never been you might be sitting here thinking "Damn, I wish I'd gone to discos in the seventies".
Jules: My foot is on the mend, thank you.
So, you were a disco girl, eh? Perhaps you should open one in Rabaul … er … perhaps not.
Dive - just think of John Travolta in "Saturday night fever" -that was me. hee hee
Ah … That white jacket!
I'm glad that your foot is better. And I'm with you on why on earth did they do away with live music. I must have been to a disco once but the strobe lighting gave me a migraine and I don't think I went back. I was more of a quiet nightclub person. There was a place in Rose Bay in Sydney called Studio 66. That was where I went to sit at the bar and talk to the barman or play backgammon or chess, to quiet music in a comfortable setting, if I was desperate for company.
Fortunately I was too busy going to lectures and studying in my 20's to go dancing. Then I was married for a few years doing the dinner party circuit. I don't think I really learned how to party until I was about 30.
I can't understand the rave dance parties they have nowadays. I think they crush them in so they can pass out the drugs without being seen. Drinking water and jigging to techno music is just weird to me. But then I'm sociophobic, Dive - just like you!
Thing is, I love disco music and everything descended from it (house, techno - any dance music really) although obviously I'm too old to club now. Going to clubs wasn't anything to do with socialising to me - just an escape and release, and so much of the music was euphoric and life enhancing. It's difficult to describe the appeal to a lot of people though, so it's best for me to shut up!
he he Dive, around the time i was preparing to take over from Streisand and Ross, they were just icons. I don't think the idea of Gay had entered my head in any shape or form.
I was a bit of a dancing queen, ok i admit it, though erring on the side of skinhead stomps on rare occasions in my two-tone skirt or Levi Sta-Prest. I stopped short of Doc Martins. I wore a black & white check Ben Sherman and swished my long, long hair to reinforce my femininity. Ha. On better days, you'll be glad to know i would wear proper dresses, high heels; the whole girly look reigned supreme and remains the mainstay of any image i can possibly still lay claim to.
By the way, Dancing Queen has put the most vile group ever back into my head. Thanks for nothing. Abba.
Mme: I have never understood how to party. Even the use of the word as a verb makes me wince.
There is certainly nowhere in England one can go to enjoy a quiet talk and a game of chess and a few drinks (Lynn might mention a few hotels but they're unlikely to let me in). In Portugal I could go to most bars and find that (outside the tourist areas), but back in Blighty we just don't have the knack for having a nice time.
Hoorah for sociophobia!
Betty: You are young and young people are strange.
Clubbing is for baby seals.
Lynn: Streisand was a gay icon when I was a kid. My best schoolfriend Andy (gay as Graham Norton) was a HUGE fan.
The thought of you dancing to Ska or Oi is too much for such a sensitive soul as I.
Apart from "Ghost Town" and "Police and Thieves" that whole era passed me by.
Nice to know you were no "Dancing Fool".
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