I recently discovered worldradiohistory.com, an absolute treasure trove of high fidelity magazines from back in the day. Besides getting teary-eyed at seeing all the old equipment advertisements and laughing uproariously at reviews that dismissed records now considered classics, it’s also been fun running across the very serious articles found in these publications. In that vein of utmost seriousness, I give you…

DISCOMANIA

The hottest item at a rock-‘n’-roll convention in New York City several months ago was a tee-shirt bearing an extremely obscene comment on disco. Most rockers just don’t take kindly to disco music. They act as though its very existence were a personal affront, and they tell whoever will listen that it is soulless, mechanical, and likely to cause softening of the brain. One frustrated rocker known only as La Lumia has actually organized a nationwide movement called “Death to Disco.” He provides buttons and bumper stickers bearing the grisly slogan, plus a manifesto stating his creed. (If you’re interested, Mr. La Lumia is available for lectures and rallies.)

And it’s not just the rockers who have gone off the deep end on the subject of disco. Jazz purists, too, complain that disco is not only a cheap form of music, but that it has robbed them of fine musicians who have “sold out” their art in crossing over to the greener pastures of commercial success it offers. The complaints come fast and furious: disco wipes out an artist’s individuality, mashing his efforts into the pulp of its monotonous sound; disco is fickle and trendy-last night’s hot platter is tonight’s cold potato; and so on.

Even though it may be true up to a point, complaining is as futile as shaking your fist at a hurricane. Disco is an outgrowth of the times, which are confusing, often depressing, and not likely to change quickly. What disco provides is a little vacation from all that-and it’s fun. It tends to be mindless fun, but therein lies its appeal. Its emphasis is on the feet, not the head, and dancing to it is an escape from the heavy burdens of both the day and the decade. Discotheques are glittering little fantasy worlds where elaborate lights and hypnotic music conspire to make every patron the star of his own romantic scenario for a night.

Disco does have its virtues. It has provided a shot of vitamin B12 to the careers of both new and established artists and to a number of small record companies. It has rejuvenated the night life of urban centers, boosted the fashion industry, added a little spice of glamour in places where there was none before, given many their only form of exercise, and probably trebled the income of Arthur Murray Dance Studios throughout the land.

Yes, some jazz artists have sold out for commercial success (hardly a new phenomenon, by the way). But some have simply temporarily gone after the rewards that, sadly, artistic integrity never brought them. Take the case of jazz keyboardist Herbie Hancock, who was ripped into by jazz critics in 1973 for his first patently commercial (and enormously popular) album, “Headhunters.” This year he had money in his pockets and the grin of a satisfied man on his face when the same critics who had mourned his loss to jazz were bowled over by his latest release, “VSOP.”

Disco has resurrected and similarly rewarded neglected r-&-b performers like Thelma Houston and Loleatta Holloway, who have returned the favor by breathing life into its often rigid form.

Unfortunately, solo artists whose fame rests solely on disco tend to disappear in the overall crush of heavy orchestration favored by most disco producers. The vocals of Carol Douglas, Silver Convention, and the relentlessly loving Barry White, for instance, are reduced to pre-measured structural blocks slipped into pre-measured holes in assembly -line songs. Occasionally a Vicki Sue Robinson or a Savannah Band will appear with the ability to soar above the formula, but they are the exceptions.

But whether disco music makes your feet tap or your flesh crawl, it’s here to stay for a while. As an industry, it grosses four to five billion dollars annually, second only to organized sports in the entertainment field. There are over 11,000 discotheques in the U.S., nearly 1,500 in Europe, and even the Soviet Union, at last report, sports a pair. Thirty-five per cent of the records currently sold in the U.S. are disco oriented, thirty million people listen to them, and approximately fourteen million dancers flock to discotheques every week.

For four days in September, Disco HI, a forum sponsored by the music trade magazine Billboard, brought home the growing clout disco has in all areas of the entertainment business. The panel discussions and exhibits left the impression of a young and booming industry delighted with its success and groping for a formula to insure it. Artists, producers, record -company representatives, club owners, disc jockeys, and equipment manufacturers participated, and some of the news they imparted was pretty impressive. If you thought disco was just an urban phenomenon, think again. Mobile discos have been bringing joy to hundreds of pairs of suburban and rural feet. The mobile units are equipped with sound systems, portable lighting equipment, and sometimes even with portable dance floors and smoke machines. Usually rented by schools, charitable organizations, and such, the units can set up a functional, parking -lot disco in nothing flat. The exhibit areas at Disco III featured other eye-opening developments. Many clubs employ the very latest in modern electronics, and the advanced sound systems, the astonishing array of lighting equipment, and the matter-of-fact use of holography, lasers, and large -screen TV projections were all but mind -boggling. Top disco acts (Gloria Gaynor, Tavares, and the SalSoul Orchestra, among others) provided entertainment each evening, and the four-day affair culminated in an awards dinner as boringly predictable as any tedious organizational function you can imagine. One high point (if one can call it that) of the awards ceremony was singer Grace Jones’ acceptance of the Most Promising Female Vocalist plaque while her purse was being stolen from her seat on the dais six feet from where she stood. The incontestable low point was the seemingly endless parade of disc jockeys accepting awards (there must have been at least one platter handler from each state in the union).

In short, disco is not about to go away, so you might as well give in, dress up, and accept Irving Berlin’s invitation to “face the music and dance.” Who knows-you might just get to like it.

DECEMBER 1977