How Disco Revolutionised Music

Disco revolutionised music, but often still doesn't get the respect it deserves. We take a look back at the history of the genre and highlight some of its trailblazers

Feature by Chlo Spinks | 12 Oct 2022
  • Disco Illustration

In 1979, disco dominated the music industry. Saturday Night Fever won the Grammy for album of the year, Donna Summer’s Bad Girls album spent six weeks at number one, and only a quarter of the top 20 charting songs that year weren’t disco tracks. For the first time in a long time, a Black genre was being recognised as a majority, and other artists and genres were forced to make room.

Then came the 'Disco Sucks' movement, culminating in the inconceivable violence of Disco Demolition Night. Disco records were burned in flaming piles and barbaric riots broke out – all in the name of hatred of disco music. Rolling Stone critic Dave Marsh explained Disco Demolition Night soon after it occurred as follows: “White males, 18 to 34, 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."

This isn’t an ambitious stretch, considering DJ Steve Dahl, who spearheaded the movement, said “Midwesterners didn’t want that intimidating [disco] style shoved down their throats,” about a genre largely focused on love, acceptance and celebration. 

To put this into perspective, consider if the same happened to punk music – a more threatening, aggressive, political genre also rising in the late 70s, but claimed by white people. There would’ve been no chance for a second wave or diversification, no way to fix a 'problematic' genre, just one day it would’ve been destroyed, with fans threatened into silence. You couldn’t imagine it.

Of the top 20 singles each year following, there were four disco tracks in 1980, one in 1981, and none in 1982. Disco’s ashes were the bed for new growth, with genres as contrasting as yacht rock and old-school hip-hop borrowing from the genre’s traits. But in reality disco never died – it continued underground until the world was ready for it, and now the modern attitude towards it, while still tainted, is entirely different.

Disco has been experiencing its redemption arc in the past decade, with artists like Dua Lipa, Kylie Minogue and Lizzo catapulting what are essentially disco tracks back into the charts, supporting the triumphant return of acts such as Chic, Sister Sledge, and even Boney M as they share new releases. But there is still a prevalent bias against disco, with its impact largely unrecognised, and musical trailblazers not truly receiving the respect they deserve. Disco deserves more recognition.

Before disco music, social dancing was strictly heterosexual, with participants needing to bring someone of the opposite sex to enter a club or dancefloor to perform structured dances. Disco dancing allowed individuals to join the floor for the first time, creating a free and expressive crowd, meaning non-heterosexual partners could dance together (something that was illegal in New York until 1971). This had massive implications for not only the future of social dancing, but for LGBT+ people.

Disco also popularised DJing, remixing and a substantial amount of technology and techniques that we still use today. Giorgio Moroder and Donna Summer’s I Feel Love (sampled on Summer Renaissance on Beyoncé's recent Renaissance album, fyi) was the first disco song with a purely synthesised instrumental, with Moroder’s synthesiser usage directly inspiring the EDM genre. Disco normalised intricate arrangements of as many as 64 tracks – at the time 16, 24 and 32 track recorders were studio standard – and introduced 10" and 12" singles, allowing for significantly longer songs instead of conforming to the three-minute standard. Disco even popularised hi-fi sound systems, allowing for bass and treble control, disciplining future DJing legends like Frankie Knuckles.

Nile Rodgers of the band Chic may possibly be the most influential figure in music history, but there's a severe lack of knowledge or respect surrounding his legacy. Nile Rodgers introduced the 'chucking' style of guitar which permeated so far into disco that it became a defining characteristic of the genre. Chic’s Le Freak was Atlantic Records’ first triple platinum selling single, and Good Times has become one of the most sampled songs of all time, with the track’s bassline literally prompting the inception of hip-hop on Rapper’s Delight. 

Rodgers has written countless film and video game soundtracks, started numerous charities and philanthropic organisations, and yet only received his first Grammy in 2014 for his contribution to Daft Punk's Get Lucky, one of the UK’s biggest-selling singles of all time. He was first awarded 'recognition' for his contributions in 2005, joined the Songwriters Hall of Fame in 2016, and was admitted to the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame in 2017… but only after 11 unsuccessful nominations. It seems that only recently are we as a society recovering from the damage of Disco Demolition Night and recognising the genre’s importance.

Nile Rodgers wrote and produced for David Bowie, Madonna and Diana Ross, amongst many others. He was also a key figure in launching Sister Sledge, another pioneering act borne from disco.

While a taste of femininity was seen in the rise of glam rock, the music culture in the first half of the 70s was extremely masculine, talent-focused, and serious. Groups like Led Zeppelin, Eagles and Pink Floyd were considered 'real music', with female acts being left to choose between accepting this masculine power or rejecting it to perform soft femininity. Sister Sledge were an early group to reject this ultimatum, suggesting people can actually be empowered by their femininity.

This is immediately clear when faced with the group. In conversation with Sister Sledge, their majestic conduct makes it clear that they understand their worth, but their contagious joy and welcoming attitude offsets anything that could be misconstrued as conceit. “What we are trying to do is, well, not try but to actually be,” Debbie Sledge notes. “I am a woman, I’m feminine, and I don’t have to do anything about that, I just have to be.”

“We learn from our strengths, but we learn from our vulnerabilities too,” Tanya Tiet adds, “the joy is just as real, both on and off stage, we are just enjoying life.”

This unapologetically joyous attitude cuts to the core of disco – celebrating what otherwise may be (wrongly) shunned allows others to be uplifted too. “There is strength in unity,” Debbie explains. “Joy really does have a place in our music. It’s a main part that we want to share.”

Hearing them speak, it feels almost ironic that a group so focused on joy, connection and celebration would have to face something as repressive and hateful as Disco Demolition Night. When the topic is brought up the room fills with dismissive laughter. “The people who tried to start that up… Where are they today?” Debbie asks, to which her daughter Camille responds: “They’re probably out dancing in the audience right now.”

“You can’t demolish disco!” Tiet laughs. “In my opinion, disco is one of the most joyful forms of music. It’s all about dancing and having a good time. You can’t kill that.”

It can be easy to dismiss Sister Sledge as “just another disco act”, but blooming as confidently feminine, inclusive and celebratory in a hostile musical climate was a brave and trailblazing act. Even now, with their newest release Free, Sister Sledge still preach radical acceptance: “It’s about being yourself, about going all the way and going for it to find what’s inside of you, and to be happy with what you find.”

On the surface, disco has influenced the technical posibilities of music, but at its core disco brings light, comfort and hope. Its impact cannot be undermined – and without it, the world would be a very different place.