In Praise of Disco (As Long as We're the Ones Playing the Machines)

I come to praise disco not to bury it. There are a couple of reasons for this. One is that the recent deaths of both Donna Summer and the Bee Gees’ Robin Gibb suggest that the latter is proceeding on its own unfortunately literal trajectory. The other is that it ultimately doesn’t deserve all the derision heaped on it (except possibly for some of the fashion choices it inspired). Whether people like to admit it or not, disco (and related forms of dance music) was the victor of the dueling late-70s musical revolutions between itself and punk and it won for good reasons.

On a social level, disco and dance music tend to be more inclusive in terms of race and gender than a lot of punk, notable exceptions like Bad Brains and Pansy Division notwithstanding. On an artistic level, disco is more adept at crafting expressions of desire that appeal more directly to the heart than the head. The examples are plentiful as anyone who’s heard both "If I Can't Have You" and "Anarchy in the UK" can attest. There are certainly notable exceptions such as the Buzzcocks, though some of Pete Shelley’s solo work suggests that they may be the exception that proves the rule.

It obviously bears mentioning that there’s a lot of crap dance music, just as there's a lot of crap punk music. At its best, though, when you know it’s the humans playing the machines and not the other way around, there’s an undeniable gut-level impact to songs like Chic’s “I Want Your Love” (or even New Order’s "Bizarre Love Triangle").

That points to what may be another underlying cause of disco’s victory. Dance music thrives in that middle-ground between craftsmanship and inspiration, where the technology and humanity collide. As it should, punk offers plenty of collisions, but its reticent attitude toward craftsmanship often makes it as limited in scope as many of its leading practitioners are filled with musical ambition. It’s not surprising then that artists like the The Jam’s Paul Weller have spent most of the past three decades making music that for all its passion is well outside the scope of what we commonly think of as punk.

I certainly wouldn’t want a world with only one or the other, but it’s all too easy in the age of micro-trends to dismiss what you don’t personally like as meaningless. Personally, I’m happy to know that the work of Robin Gibb and Joe Strummer will outlive both of them.