#disco demolition night

[cleolinda]

When I was a child in the '80s, I absorbed some kind of cultural truism that disco was ridiculous, embarrassing, cheesy, a cultural relic to be mocked at every turn. Remember, I'm under ten years old at this time, and I still manage to get this impression. There was another, milder sea change when grunge overtook the hair metal of the late '80s, so I never questioned the idea that disco should be dead and buried. We like silly things, I thought in my 13-year-old wisdom, and then we get over it.

Then I saw The Last Days of Disco (1998) while I was in college, and suddenly I realized that disco was fun, and it was like—it was in the roots of—music I already loved. And the end of that movie also—hints? tells you? I can't remember how explicitly—that disco didn't just fade like most trends; it was killed off.

I watched a lot of VH1 in those days, the late '90s, with a little TV sitting on my tall university-issue dresser, its corner overlooking my computer desk while I struggled with piles of assignments. This was the heyday of Behind the Music, so it was great background TV. And then one day (1999) they ran a Donna Summer—the "Queen of Disco"—concert special. The video up there is the song that immediately became my favorite of hers. It’s just instant serotonin to me, any version of it. I bought the whole VH1 album on CD, and "This Time I Know It's For Real" may genuinely be one of my all-time favorite songs, now, still, more than 20 years later. You can hear the original version (1989) here (the backing instrumental that I just found today is lovely), but the live version ten years later, the video up there, has a really special comeback—joyous, gracious survival—energy to it.

Watching the whole concert, I got it. Why the fuck did I ever think disco wasn't amazing? It was always the kind of thing I loved; we had all just been pretending that it was embarrassing glitter trash.

And then I found out why we were pretending. From densely-footnoted Wikipedia:

Disco Demolition Night was a Major League Baseball (MLB) promotion on Thursday, July 12, 1979, at Comiskey Park in Chicago, Illinois, that ended in a riot. At the climax of the event, a crate filled with disco records was blown up on the field between games of the twi-night doubleheader between the Chicago White Sox and the Detroit Tigers. Many had come to see the explosion rather than the games and rushed onto the field after the detonation. The playing field was so damaged by the explosion and by the rioters that the White Sox were required to forfeit the second game to the Tigers. [...] The popularity of disco declined significantly in late 1979 and 1980. Many disco artists carried on, but record companies began labeling their recordings as dance music. [...] Rolling Stone critic Dave Marsh described Disco Demolition Night as "your most paranoid fantasy about where the ethnic cleansing of the rock radio could ultimately lead". Marsh was one who, at the time, deemed the event an expression of bigotry, writing in a year-end 1979 feature that "white males, eighteen to thirty-four are the most likely to see disco as the product of homosexuals, blacks, and Latins, and therefore they're the most likely to respond to appeals to wipe out such threats to their security. It goes almost without saying that such appeals are racist and sexist, but broadcasting has never been an especially civil-libertarian medium." Nile Rodgers, producer and guitarist for the disco-era band Chic,

(who survived the disco era to make half the music I loved in the '80s)

likened the event to Nazi book burning. Gloria Gaynor, who had a huge disco hit with "I Will Survive," stated, "I've always believed it was an economic decision—an idea created by someone whose economic bottom line was being adversely affected by the popularity of disco music. So they got a mob mentality going."

The DJ who ran the whole thing, Steve Dahl, complains that it was VH1 itself—you know, those Behind the Music specials I was watching—circa 1996 that labeled the whole debacle as bigotry when it so totally was not, you guys, and he is so tired of defending himself. But I'm gonna tell you, Steve, I don't really care. Maybe Disco Demolition Night was your fault; maybe you were just a part of something so much bigger and uglier that you couldn't see the whole size of it. Can you draw a direct line from the weird bigoted vitriol directed at those dance records to Ronald Reagan, elected the very next year, not giving a single fuck about the AIDS crisis? You probably don't want to, but I will.

And I don't care because I can look around the U.S. right now and tell you, nearly 45 years later, people are trying to demolish a lot more than disco. The Club Q shooter was sentenced to life in prison just a few hours ago. It's Pride Month, and we're all sitting here holding our breaths. That's a terrible way to end a post about a beautiful happy song I love, I guess, unless you turn it around and say, that should have been the whole point of this post in the first place. Listen to this song and think, people wanted to destroy this music, this sound, this joy for some reason. They want to stop people from just living their lives, from dancing. And yet, disco is still here. It was there in 1979, and it was there when Donna Summer released this song in 1989, and it was there when she returned in 1999. The Queen of Disco passed away in 2012, and it's still here. I feel a lot of joy when I listen to this song, but I don't think I'd ever thought about it being the joy of grooving with something just because it’s beautiful, the joy of just being here, still.

[gravyhoney]

I can’t believe Disco Demolition Night was a real thing that happened and everyone just says that disco music died.

Disco did not die, they KILLED IT. They BLEW IT UP in a big dumpster July 12, 1979 :(

[oldmanpeace]

[solarianvulpine]

Did you know that, in the late 70's, there was a violent rally held by angry rock fans in which they blew up disco records to "kill the disco movement" in response to it's place in both gay liberation and afro/latino empowerment plus their belief that it was destroying rock and roll?

Discotheque originated in french nightclubs in the twenties, thirties, and fourties. However, it was the mid seventies that brought about a strong American take on the genre. Disco was growing in the underground club, bar, and punk scene. Featuring rhythmic drums and african influenced beats, it was rapidly gaining popularity in the dance scene and massively outselling rock and roll. Rockers felt that switching up musically to sell better was synonymous with selling out. Plus why would they bother? They said that disco was a mindless fad compared to their superior lyrical work and sound.

For a few years the conflict of genre built tensions. Producers wanted more and more disco funk. Bringing about an age of gay liberation and putting black and brown artists in the spotlight, featuring openly queer black artists like Sylvester and Martha wash. Rock was being called on much less. It all came to a head in July of 1979.

"Disco Demolition Night" took place at Chicago's Comiskey Park between baseball games on July 12, 1979. It was organized by radio host and dj Steve Dahl. Calling for the death of disco, the end of the "musical disease." Dahl claims it was nothing but a harmless stunt; continuously denying its racist and homophobic nature.

The day after the event Dahl hosted his usual morning broadcast. He began by reading the headlines reporting the previous night's events, mocking the coverage, saying, "I think for the most part everything was wonderful. Some maniac cohos got wild, went down on the field. which you shouldn't have done. Bad little cohos"*

To my understanding Steve Dahl never renounced his feelings towards disco nor has he shown any remorse for his actions. Seeing as he still sells merchandise featuring the event on his website. Including hats and tshirts commemorating the night of 7-12-79.

Rolling Stone Critic Dave Marsh attended the event and wrote at the time, "Your most paranoid fantasy about where the ethnic cleansing of the rock radio could ultimately lead... white males 18 to 34 are the most likely to see disco as the product of homosexuals, black and latins, and therefore they're the most likely to respond to appeals to wipe out such threats to their security."

Fans rushed the field brandishing tshirts and banners stating "Disco Sucks." A notable phrase used in connection to the movement to kill disco. Still heard in passing to this day. The phrase may seem harmless today noting that we use "sucks" so casually. It is worth noting that at the time it was new slang; directly and intentionally homophobic. It is often forgotten exactly what we're accusing the subject of sucking.

The effects of Demolition Night swiftly radiated out into the media production circuit. Sending Disco back underground to the safe havens of queer clubs and bars, like the loft and stonewall, as well as the subterranean punk spaces of their origin.

Today it's commonly believed that disco's popularity did die in 1979. Producers, studios, and clubs started rebranding the genre as "dance" music. Even pioneers of disco became disillusioned with the genre noting that media producers had oversaturated disco sound, wringing out any cultural significance it had at the start. Making way for hip-hop, pop, and punk.

However, dancing to the selections of DJs had integrated into culture in major urban centers. As an activity it wasn't going anywhere. With the inability to capitalize on it the culture discovered a new lease of life, free of the labeling and profiteering. Disco may have been dead, but its influence was alive and well.

To learn more:

A more extensive account of the culture and history can be found in this book "Love Saves the Day" by Tim Lawrence.

I also recommend this playlist curated by the Woody Guthrie memorial museum in Tulsa, Oklahoma during their exhibit of the same name earlier this summer. Exploring the history and sound of disco.

TL;DR - Disco was major to gay and poc empowerment. Then a bunch of people rioted and blew up disco records at a baseball game leading to the decline of Disco's popularity in mainstream media.

*Coho - noun; a person or thing that shows the existence or direction of a trend - (another definition is a kind of salmon but i have the feeling that would be inaccurate as funny as it may be)

[realhankmccoy]

A: Hank, if Exterminator! by Burroughs came out in 1973, Nashville by Altman in 1975, and Looking for Mr. Goodbar in 1977, would you have wanted to be in the 70s

D: duhhhh i've been saying the 70s was the best decade for ages now. it had to be destroyed because it was high energy, danceable, urban, black, gay, weird, punk, drug-using --

Stay Puft HATES those 8 things

Stay Puft will crush you for being

1 ) high energy 2 ) danceable 3 ) urban 4 ) black 5 ) gay 6 ) weird 7 ) punk 8 ) drug-using

prob many other reasons Stay Puft had to crush it, but I don't want to get into it all right now.

I'm so sick of conservatives talking about the end of civilisation. The end of good music, agreed -- but I mean, look how people were behaving in America in 1979. Naughty, naughty..

[xtruss]

“We Rock ‘n’ Rollers Will Resist—And We Will Triumph!

When the Smoke Cleared on Disco Demolition Night, Debate Over Its Cultural Meaning Began.

— October 26, 2023 | Kirstin Butler

Courtesy Chicago Sun-Times. Photo by Jack Lenahan

In the bright glare of Comiskey Park’s stadium lights, the rising column of smoke takes on a spectral quality. Riot police approach from the right to close in on the phantom, a smoldering pile of vinyl records, at center field. Debris litters the turf below; haze obscures the deck above. Disco Demolition Night, as captured here by a Chicago Sun-Times staff reporter, had turned into something far more out-of-control than a promotional stunt during a double header.

The July 12, 1979 event was the brainchild of a Chicago shock-jock-style radio personality, 24-year-old Steve Dahl, and Mike Veeck, Chicago White Sox promotions manager and son of the baseball club’s owner. Dahl had become a self-appointed anti-disco activist the previous Christmas Eve when he lost his job; his then-employer had switched overnight from rock to an all-disco playlist, following a nationwide trend that saw many radio stations jump on the disco hype train.

Dahl landed at WLUP 97.9, another rock station, where he developed a loyal following. He opened each morning’s broadcast with a ritual: According to a 2019 interview with NPR, Dahl would first cue up a disco song, and then after a harsh record scratch, play the sound of an explosion. He began hosting “Death to Disco” rallies at local Chicago nightclubs, and his band, Teenage Radiation, recorded a disco parody track (sample lyric: “Look at my hair, it's perfect/I saw Saturday Night Fever/Eighty-seven times”). “We have to destroy all disco, it’s our job,” Dahl told his listeners. He planned to make good on his destructive mission, literally, by blowing up a cache of disco records at a local mall. When Veeck learned of the idea, he offered Dahl a much larger venue for the pyrotechnics. The event would take place on one of Comiskey Park’s teen nights.

Dahl was tapping into an animus that had as much to do with anxiety over the zeitgeist as dislike of a musical genre. “It’s worth remembering now that in 1979, the economy and economic opportunities for people who don’t have a college education is actually shrinking,” Adam Green, a professor of African American history and cultural studies at the University of Chicago, told American Experience. “The city is changing because of things that have to do with the economy and politics; it’s not changing because of disco music. But if Steve Dahl says that he’s been screwed by disco, it gives permission to other people to say, ‘you know what? I’ve been screwed too.’”

Steve Dahl’s band recorded an anti-disco parody of Rod Stewart’s “Do Ya Think I’m Sexy.”

Disco had first emerged earlier in the decade, evolving out of funk, R&B and soul music; its innovators were Black, gay and Latino, and its milieu was the underground nightclub, where those marginalized groups found safe spaces to socialize. However, once record labels realized the genre’s commercial potential, disco music went mass market. And those now-mainstream clubs where disco was played (of which Studio 54 in New York City was the ne plus ultra) developed an elitist cachet that alienated the young, mostly white working class Chicagoans who listened to Dahl. With songs like “Y.M.C.A.,” “Night Fever” and “I Will Survive” topping the Billboard charts, the genre’s ascendance by the end of the Seventies was complete. It was also, then, a prime target for takedown.

These currents were all swirling in the air around the nighttime double header in mid-July, a showdown between the last-in-league Chicago White Sox and the Detroit Tigers. Veeck simply thought Disco Demolition Night would draw several thousand more fans during a losing season.

Dahl wore a combat helmet and fatigues to the park. His anti-disco army turned out en masse, drinking and growing increasingly rowdy as the innings went on. By the time Dahl rode out onto the field in a military Jeep after the first game, nearly 50,000 spectators were crammed into the park; an additional 10,000-plus were outside.

For reduced-price tickets to the park that night, many attendees brought records to be destroyed; all of the sacrificial vinyl filled a bin that was set down, ceremonially, in the middle of the field. Dahl got the crowd chanting “Disco Sucks,” a message matched by homemade banners hung from the stadium’s upper deck. “They’re not gonna shove it down our throats,” he yelled into a microphone. “We rock ‘n’ rollers will resist—and we will triumph!” The records were detonated, tearing a crater into the midfield sod. “That blowed up real good,” Dahl crowed, echoing the signature line that accompanied his on-air disco “explosions.” Triumphant, he got back in the Jeep and rode off the field—along with many of the ballpark security staff. That was when the true mayhem broke out.

People started streaming onto the green by the thousands. They stole bases and tipped over a batting cage; they ripped up turf. They rushed both bullpens and began burning signs. Fights broke out. Veteran White Sox announcer Harry Caray tried to shift the tone by singing ‘Take Me Out to the Ballgame’ over the PA system. No one listened. A message on the scoreboard—PLEASE RETURN TO YOUR SEATS—pleaded, futilely, with the attendees still stoking fires. White Sox announcer Jimmy Piersall opined, “I hope they don’t let you people see what’s going on here at Comiskey Park; one of the saddest sights I’ve ever seen in a ballpark in my life.” Eventually the Chicago riot police arrived, some on horseback, and cleared the field.

Later, after the smoke cleared, and critics and commentators began evaluating the event, many would describe Disco Demolition as an opening salvo in the culture wars. What role racism and homophobia played in Dahl and his groupies’ rebellion remained up for debate. Even from today’s vantage point, a definitive interpretation of Disco Demolition is still murky. “If we seek a true memory,” Green said, “this is the meaning of the backlash against disco, then we're probably going to find ourselves in a situation where we never settle the argument. And I think that that’s the way of all major cultural transformations.”

[jedivoodoochile]

July 12, 1979

43 years ago today the Chicago White Sox baseball team held a “Disco Demolition Night” in between games of a double header. The team had hoped to attract 25,000 fans to the game by offering 99 cent admission to anyone who showed up with a disco record that would be destroyed in an on the field “celebration” in between games. Over 50,000 fans showed up and after the records were blown up thousands of fans raced onto the field. Ultimately the White Sox had to forfeit the second game as they were unable to gain back control of the field. Some people like to say that this is the evening that disco died in the 70s.

[taxi-davis]

[carteBlanche] - dance ! (SoloEdits)

[history105rockandrollblog]

Lecture 15: Here is the news coverage of the notorious 1979 Disco Demolition Night at Comiskey Park in Chicago, held July 12, 1979. Originally intended as a promotional gimmick, the orgy of record album destruction quickly got out of hand, and illustrated the intensely anti-disco sentiment of the late 1970s. Some observers noted racist and homophobic undertones to the event, as the backlash targeted one of the few subgenres of music that was multiracial in composition and attracted a large gay following. Disc jockey Steve Dahl, who organized the event, takes a decidedly humorous approach to the destructive night. 

[vyl3tpwny]

sometimes i think about how disco music was trashed, hated, reviled, and lobbied against in the 70's, even yielding the famous "disco demolition night" where people just showed up to a sports stadium and destroyed disco records. i think about how it was a genre that was pioneered, dominated by, and celebrated by the black community in america, especially the queer members. so much hatred, so much pushback. i even just watched the 2022 minions movie and one of the punchlines was torturing someone by making them listen to disco constantly. it's that stigmatized yeah.

and then daft punk, two cishet white boys, make a disco record "random access memories" and it becomes one of the best selling albums of all time. idk how fair it all is.

[pyr0graves]

My hcs for you are that you’re a time traveler from the late 70s trying to bring disco back.

Also your username is a lie you actullay play scout/j (I don’t know if you play tf2)

SHIT I'VE BEEN FOUND OUT you found out the truth, I'm from August 1979 and I couldn't live life after Disco Demolition Night, so I snuck into a government facility and stole their only working time machine to come to the present 😔/j also I used to play tf2, my mains were medic and pyro 😎👍

[gravyhoney]

Y’all think Disco Demolition Night happened in the Ninjago universe? Y’all think Lego Steve Dahl got fired from his Lego disk jockey job and blew up Lego disco music in Lego Comiskey park? Do you guys think Wu and Garmadon would have attended Disco Demolition Night?

[czto-nebud-blog]

Disco music in the 90s is so weird because it's like:

North america: disco is the butt of every joke since the borderline race riot at 1979 disco demolition night

Western europe: slowly transforming into house music with more and more synth

Eastern europe: cheesiest music you can imagine and the boomers are absolutely in love

[humanoidhistory]

Man hawking "Disco Sucks" T-shirt during the infamous Disco Demolition Night in Chicago, 1979.

[realhankmccoy]

Hmm, well that's parodying Do Ya Thnk I'm Sexy by Rod Stewart and ripping up Saturday Night Fever so I guess that's fair game.

i'm still not for Disco Demolition Night, but nothing illiberal detected in this song really -- it's some mouthy kid being punk -- except for the bashing of Margaret Trudeau (Justin Trudeau's mother) is deffo illiberal I think...

hard to imagine a prime minister's wife being a studio 54 regular, isn't it kids? but that was Canada back in the day. I'm a big fan of Pierre Trudeau and have been since my 20s.

Weird that the night still means so much to a lot of straight white folks, anyhow.

[omgthatdress]

Julie’s Funky Flower Outfit is definitely the most egregiously 60s of Julie’s collection. While go-go boots and miniskirts were still very much a thing in the 70s, they were very different than this.

(1stdibs.com)

I’d like to see a purple minidress with a huge collar and these boots:

That would be a great 70s look! I love that they tried to bring Disco into Julie’s collection, but uh.... disco was very much an adult scene.

Disco dresses tended to be long and flowy. Pantsuits were shiny and sparkly. They moved with the body and were meant for dancing.

In the beginning, disco was a scene dominated by people of color and gay men. Disco was fundamentally Black music.

Disco didn’t really become mainstream until 1977, with the release of Saturday Night Fever, which was based on an article that was entirely fabricated. That kind of ruined it. It lost its edgy coolness and became whitewashed and lame.

However, since straight White men cannot let anyone else have fun that doesn’t involve them, there was an almost immediate “Disco Sucks!” backlash. It was unabashedly racist and homophobic. Its main supporters were “manly” rock’n’roll fans who apparently just hated dressing up and having fun. In July 1979, the Chicago White Sox tried to get fans to see a game with a “disco demolition night” that would burn a bunch of disco records, and it ended in a riot.

1970s proto-incel radio host Steve Dahl built a career out of shitting on Black and gay people just having fun and looking better than him, and then had the gall to say, “I’m worn out from defending myself as a racist homophobe” yeah poor fucking you. The glory of disco will live forever. There’s a reason “I Will Survive” is the ultimate disco anthem.

“I Will Survive” isn’t just a fun disco bop, it’s a declaration and a rallying cry that took on a very literal meaning during the AIDS epidemic. After the Pulse shooting, I broke down crying when I heard the chorus:

“Oh no, not I, I will survive Oh, as long as I know how to love, I know I'll stay alive I've got all my life to live And I've got all my love to give and I'll survive I will survive!”

I can’t help but feel it’s once again taken on new meaning today when people are out there openly calling for trans people to be erased. Disco is powerful and meaningful. It’s hope and something to hold onto, a beacon of light in times of immense darkness. We will survive!