Chicago’s DJ Pierre already had the credentials to be responsible for a lasting sound revolution in club music when he, together with Earl “Spanky” Smith Jr., and Herbert “Herb J” Jackson as Phuture, tweaked the knobs of the Roland TB-303 and came up with the squelching sounds that defined acid house. But regular visits to the seminal Wild Pitch parties put on by Bobby Konders and Greg Day in early 90s New York City inspired him to reinvent himself once again, and again with lasting consequences. The Wild Pitch parties consisted of several rooms with different musical agendas between reggae, disco, hip hop, house and techno. Pierre’s idea was to gather the diverse styles played into one track, but by applying a structure that stepped away from the traditions of club music functionality. Over the course of tracks often hitting or passing the 10 minute mark, he opted for a gradual introduction of a track’s key elements. Starting with the kick drum, every further sound was slowly and patiently layered onto another on a rolling groove, heaping up the intensity step by step until a climactic release. This may not read as being revolutionary, but it was executed so skillfully that it shook up the foundations of house, introducing a level of upbuilding tension and a hypnotic quality that was yet unheard of. And it also led to Pierre becoming one the most in-demand remixers in the years to come. Here is a guide to some classics and overlooked gems that defined wild pitch.
Photon Inc. Feat. Paula Brion – Generate Power (Wild Pitch Mix) (Strictly Rhythm, 1991)
The ground zero of the genre, and all the key elements are already there: the waddling groove, the standing strings, the stab repetition, the signalling vocal samples. The upbuilding structure was not as refined yet, but the intensity level sure was. This track literally ran over house music in its release year, and Pierre obviously noticed that he was onto something.
DJ Pierre – Muzik (The Tribal Wild Pitch Mix) (Strictly Rhythm, 1992)
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CqPXGZmlqGg
DJ Pierre often said in interviews that wild pitch was inspired by his own DJing preferences of sneaking in elements of other tracks in long blends. „Muzik“ is a perfect example for that. Just check how its elements fade in and out, are repeated, modulated, replaced, continued and layered. It is a master class in structure.
Divided in four parts segued into another and add up to 15 breathtaking minutes, this track tore through dancefloors with a massive boom still seeking comparison. Yet it is actually clocking at 120 bpm, proving that pace does not equal heaviness. And it builds and builds. Someplace else, Chez Damier and Ron Trent were taking notes. Read the rest of this entry »
Down in a raw basement near Hamburg’s Berliner Tor station, Willi Prange and his partner Phillip Clarke opened the mostly gay oriented club Front in 1983. The majority of nights at Front were not played by guests, but by the main resident DJs Klaus Stockhausen and his successor Boris Dlugosch, who steered the club through the most cutting edge music the disco aftermath had to offer, until it eventually became one of the first clubs in Continental Europe to embrace house music and the styles that followed suit. The club’s intense nights were built on a wildly hedonistic and loyal crowd, a fierce quadrophonic sound system, a secluded DJ booth that seemed to antagonize the cult of personality of the years to come, and thus created a legacy that lasted well beyond the club’s closure in 1997. We asked Boris Dlugosch to guide us through the sound of the pivotal years of Front.
Shirley Lites – Heat You Up (West End, 1983)
This was one of my first lasting musical impressions at the club. Klaus Stockhausen played it nearly every Saturday then. It was more of an after hours record and it fitted perfectly.
Syncbeat – Music (Streetwave, 1984)
Klaus played this record when it came out, and when I started as a DJ in 1986 it had a small revival because I rediscovered it for myself. It was one of the most formative records for me. I did not know until then what this record was. I found it by chance in the club’s own record inventory. I loved this track very much and one day I could get a hold of it in a grab bag at Hamburg’s Tractor store for import records, where I was working at the time. Those bags were sealed and contained 10 records. I actually flicked through several other bags until I had two copies of it.
Connie – Funky Little Beat (Sunnyview, 1985)
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4Hj0F2tzUik
This kind of Electro was the sound of Front from 1983 to 1984. I was not going to other clubs much, I was still too young and could not get in, but I heard this record on old tapes recorded live at the club (https://hearthis.at/front/). When I started going to Front from 1985 on this sound slowly faded away and was replaced by early house music.
Harlequin Four’s – Set it Off (Jus Born, 1985)
For me this was a quintessential Freestyle and Electro record. Klaus Stockhausen used to play it mostly as a break, often mixed with „Operattack“ by Grace Jones, or with space effects records. This and the Grace Jones album were milestones for my musical socialisation and they always worked on the floor.
Adonis – No Way Back (Trax, 1986)
This record and Farley Jackmaster Funk’s „Love Can’t Turn Around“ came out in 1986, shortly before I started playing at the club myself. At Front club changes in pace and style were elementary and the according setting was sometimes prepared over the course of hours, and sometimes just introduced by a quick break. House music brought along a different structure, and there was a steady beat for hours. At that time this was the defining new feature of the genre. Music was mixed seamlessly throughout the night at Front in all the years before, but with house music the rhythm became more homogeneous. Read the rest of this entry »
So what were Germans actually dancing to before Techno? Of course to as many different styles as in other countries. But a good glimpse at what was getting down in West Germany before house music happened was the club Moroco in Cologne. Located at Hohenzollernring, the club ran from 1982 to 1986, and both the club interior and its crowd were determined to look as posh as possible. In contrast to Post Punk counterculture, the materialistic 80s decade manifested itself in the culture of the “Popper”, foppish youth dressed up to display as much wealth and taste as they could. But what distinguished the Moroco from other similar clubs across the land was its status as favourite leisure and inspiration spot of the Kraftwerk members. Carol Martin, credited as CGI artist on their “Computerwelt” album, was a resident DJ at the club and guides us through the sound of the Moroco and how it was connected to the Kraftwerk canon.
James Brown – It’s Too Funky In Here (Polydor, 1979)
Be it Kraftwerk or Miles Davis, everybody seemed to be inspired by James Brown. Bootsy Collins, whom Kraftwerk also cherished, started his career with him. „Boing Boom Tschak“ is also a tribute to Bootsy’s concrete bass.
Earth,Wind and Fire – Fantasy (CBS, 1978)
Funky, emotional and wonderful to dance to until today. I went to see them with Kraftwerk by invitation of the concert promoter Fritz Rau at the Phillips-Halle in Düsseldorf. It was a magnificent show with perfect sound and effects and all of a sudden the bass player was hanging 20 metres up in the air.
The Gap Band – I Don’t Believe You Want To Get Up And Dance (Oops, Up Side Your Head) (Mercury, 1979)
Danceability was typical for Moroco, and you could play this anytime. There was a nine minute extended version of it, so the DJ could leave to „wash hands and powder the nose“ and when he returned the floor was still as packed. Read the rest of this entry »
If Kassel is known in Germany for another cultural contribution besides the art fair Documenta it is the legacy of the techno club Aufschwung Ost, and its renamed successor Stammheim. Both clubs were located in a former textiles factory building called Kulturfabrik Salzmann that served mainly as an art space. When Aufschwung Ost opened in 1994, it quickly established a national and international reputation that exceeded those of clubs in similarly middle-sized cities. The main resident DJs, the late Pierre Blaszczyk aka DJ Pierre and Mark Pecnik aka DJ Marky, built a dedicated local following with their state of the art techno sound, and managed to pull in every main guest DJ important in the techno scene, propelling the club to the level of famous clubs in Berlin or Frankfurt, until its lease ran out in 2002 and it had to close. We asked DJ Marky to recall some of the tunes that ruled the floor in both clubs.
.xtrak – Facc (Peacefrog, 1995)
This bleep track by Todd Sines, who regularly collaborated with Daniel Bell, was played a lot at our club. It is had a minimal sound but a maximum impact on the floor. The hi-hats coming in at the first minute are just a dream.
Jiri.Ceiver – Osiaic (Vogels Funky Sola Mix) (Harthouse, 1995)
It is very difficult to develop an own signature style. But what Cristian Vogel and other artists such as Neil Landstrumm, Dave Tarrida, Si Begg and Justin Berkovi released in the 90s was definitely new and not existent before. This track stands for the Brighton sound and its wonderful playfulness which was very influential over the years for the resident DJs at Aufschwung Ost and Stammheim.
DJ Hyperactive – Venus (Missile, 1996)
Chicago techno at its best. A peak time banger that never failed to work on the big floor. You still hear it in the sets of well-known DJs.
Daft Punk – Rock ‘n’ Roll (Virgin, 1996)
You just could not pass by Daft Punk in 1996, but you did not want to anyway. Their „Homework“ album included this track and to this day it is still one of the best house and techno albums for me. Either the album or other terrific releases on Thomas Bangalter’s label Roulé were constantly played on both our techno and floors.
Wishmountain – Radio (Evolution), 1996
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=G6dfqShNmYo
Sven Väth played this as a white label at our club, in early 1996. It was way ahead of the official release date, so the whole crowd was unfamiliar with it. The energy this track built up on the floor in just a few minutes was just incredible. It was a miracle that the whole place did not just collapse at the last break. What Matthew Herbert created with this track is unique and it is perhaps THE quintessential Aufschwung Ost/Stammheim classic.
Skull vs. ESP – Power Hour (Sounds, 1996)
A beautiful track by DJ Skull and Woody McBride. It came out on Sounds back then, which was a sub label of Communique Records, a very popular label with the resident DJs that had several legendary releases. I liked to play it in the early morning hours.
Green Velvet – Destination Unknown (Relief, 1997)
I could have picked „Flash“, „La La Land“ other Green Velvet classics as well. The Relief and Cajual labels were essential to any of our parties. You can witness its effect at Green Velvet’s legendary gig at our club in 2001 ( https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ES0ldBe4kZA).
Coldcut & Hexstatic – Timber (Ninja Tune, 1998)
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=z-jK46PEwcs
This is an absolute DJ Pierre classic. There was not only hard techno being played at Aufschwung Ost and Stammheim, and this is a wonderful example. Particularly in the morning the residents had enough time to experiment with different styles and we did just that. Electro, big beat and cuts ‘n’ breaks, everything was tried and tested. That was just as much fun for the dancers as it was for us DJs.
DJ Rolando – Knights Of The Jaguar (Underground Resistance, 1999)
A masterpiece by Rolando and Underground Resistance. This track on the big floor at 10 A.M. meant instant goosebumps for everybody. The light came through the windows, and together with the music created a magical vibe each time the track was played. It will still put a smile on those dancers today.
DJ Rush – One Two Zero (Pro-Jex, 1999)
DJ Rush and Stammheim was love at first sight. The residents loved his mad beat constructions. There was probably was not one set from us big floor DJs without at least two tracks by him. And on the other hand DJ Rush adored Stammheim, it was the best club for him back then.
Aphex Twin – Windowlicker (Warp, 1999)
Aphex Twin was formative for his time, and „Windowlicker“ is just one example. I chose it because Pierre used to end long nights by playing this as his last record. It was always astonishing how much energy it could restore for one last time. So it is a classic forever connected to Pierre.
Stefan Küchenmeister – Soda Stream (Hörspielmusik, 2000)
Stefan Küchenmeister was one of the Stammheim residents and he delivered one of the big Stammheims anthems with this track. Fortunately it was released on „Hörspielmusik“, the label I ran with Pierre, and thus we had a home-made Stammheim hit record.
Labels such as Labels wie Profan, Kompakt and Auftrieb developed the sound of Cologne, that us residents really cherished back then. This remix was also one of the big Stammheim anthems.
Vitalic – La Rock 01 (International Deejay Gigolos, 2001)
What can you still say about this track? Pure energy on the dance floor! And one of my all-time favourites.
Depeche Mode – Dream On (Dave Clarke Remix) (Mute, 2001)
Depeche Mode and Dave Clarke? That is the perfect combination that could only lead to a killer track. Dave Clarke knows how to transform an already great track into his own style, resulting in something even better, without losing any of the source’s original greatness. This is a rare gift. A big peak time number at Stammheim.
I would like to maintain that no music is really rare these days. It is likely just a few clicks away, and if you can afford to purchase it, it is just one click further. Nevertheless there is also a whole market built on DJs that play rare music, or who are reliably making music rare. They are often announced as DJs that dig deeper than others. Now finding music that others DJ do not play is or at least should be more or less an integral part of DJing, and to use it as a sales point seems at least debatable. Then again, a whole lot of DJs do not mind playing the same music as others, and if this special market segment injects some diversity or unpredictability, it should be nothing to complain about. The according DJs might also not opt for rarity status intentionally, often they just play out music they like, and a lot of people like the music as well, and they want to own it, too. And as these DJs are usually well documented, too many wantlists soon exceed the supply, and the music gets expensive. Well, of course a lot of DJs are also intentionally playing rare music to maintain a certain status, and in the process they exhaust the surprise potential of the music because other people learn about the music and subsequently seek access to it. It does not make the music cheaper either. Most of the DJs who trigger such chain reactions are able to do that for certain reasons though. Nearly all of them have the necessary well-developed taste buds, experience and the according deck skills to present all of it. Some are old enough and bought the music when it originally came out, some are younger and just knew where to look later on. Regardless of age all these DJs were probably spending a considerable amount of time learning about music, and they were also not afraid to invest a lot of time finding it. But once you made your name on this special circuit, finding rare music is also getting easier. You establish a network with other likeminded DJs and exchange knowledge, and when you enter a record store or an distribution office, you are likely to be given valuable information about rare music, just because you are who you are. At best, you either play enough gigs to afford any kind of music you want, or you pull enough attention to just being given it for free. Some might not even really possess the music in its original form, maybe they just have the files. You cannot really tell these days, I suppose.
But what do you do if you like the music these DJs play? Of course you can wait until some label reissues rare music you are looking for, which is actually very likely nowadays, but it is still music that was already discovered and played out by people as mentioned above, and you cannot really gain status by showing off with records that others already added to the canon of desirable items, particularly if you do not own the original issues. The other thing is that not every record you would like to have gets reissued, or you just do want to wait for it. Or you belong to the majority of DJs that simply cannot afford to buy such originals, but you still want to establish a reputation as a decksman who finds things. If your budget is limited your chance of finding that box of sealed copies or private pressings in a seedy basement or a rural shack is limited as well, because you just cannot travel to such locations. But also in an actual record store, or online, your chance of finding those for little money is near zero. Everything is connected. It is way easier to learn about records nowadays and then buy them, but it is also easier to check what they are worth. That works the same way for shop and customer, so surprise finds are restricted to stores that really do not care much about technical progress. And these are a rare species, probably nearing extinction.
At some point I decided to play less old rare records, regardless if I bought them for a regular price, found them by chance in a bargain bin, or paid a lot of money. I felt they lost their appeal if too many people in the club already knew how special they were, or if too many other DJs already had similar ideas. So I went the other way and started playing cheap records that everybody else seemed to not know, or had forgotten about. Personally, I am now not digging more than ever, but it feels like it. And I loved the reactions of dancers and fellow DJs who checked Shazam or Discogs only to realize the record that just had everybody screaming was available from plenty of sellers in numerous countries for very little money. For some the tune they wanted the minute before instantly became contaminated, inacceptable, uninteresting. Others discovered they could possibly gather a set of several hours for the price they expected a single tune to be worth.
There are a lot of ways to find those tunes. For example there are a lot of discographies by artists and labels that just have one or a few rare items. But what about the rest? Well, just check. The best way to find cheap alternatives that are as good or even better than that holy grail is to look left, right, and even elsewhere. Follow the credits, look for peculiar track titles or designs, isolate individual sounds, notice who did that dub on B3, and if you like what you hear, check what else they did, under what moniker. In the process you will learn about local scenes, sounds attached to a certain period of time, sellers that have an inventory that might offer things you were not even expecting yet. And then you proceed from there, as wherever you might find something you like, there might be more. If you think this reads really obvious, try it out. It is not as easy as you might think it is, and it requires a whole lot more time and initiative than just going with established decision makers. But it is also a whole lot more rewarding, and personal.
I am well aware that presenting some cheap finds here is a tad contradictory in that aspect. But I just want to prove what you can find, and I just can’t help telling people about certain music anyway, and some might even like it as much as I do. And if they look on their own they might find something that I did not know about, and I want them to tell me. Thus the knowledge is spread and things move forward. I am also aware that some records might get rare and expensive by being featured in this column. But you know what? It does not really matter. There are plenty more fish in the sea. And there is more life at the bottom.
Tyrone Ashley – Looks Like Love Is Here To Stay (Safari, 1977)
A lot of people still disregard Ian Levine. He started out as a collector and DJ in the original rare soul scene of the 70s, he was wealthy, gay and outspoken and he modernized (and split up) the whole movement by adapting more contemporary sounds from US club culture, thereby introducing classic disco and later Hi-NRG to the UK and beyond. He also discovered, managed and produced a lot of hugely successful pop acts, and did not mind to deform the original soul singers and tunes he started out with in the business with weird, cheap sounding updates. I quite like him for all of that, but I particularly like his songwriting and productions in collaboration with Fiachra Trench in the 70s disco era. I doubt he will ever get the respect he deserves, probably he does not even care. But listen to this gem: the right clues from the melodies he spent so much money on as a record collector, a state of the art orchestration and arrangement, and it hits all the right spots on the floor. And there’s plenty more disco ecstasy where this came from. Read the rest of this entry »
Although it closed in 2010, Bar25 still holds a very special place in Berlin clubbing history. Established in 2004, it introduced a hedonistic playground atmosphere to a scene that often preferred to appear sombre and serious. There are countless tales about what wild abandon happened between the wooden fence shielding the club from everyday life and its naturally occuring other boundary, the Spree river, where from the opposite bank or passing boats you could watch a very escapist crowd roam the vast area on marathon weekends. Its soundtrack of minimal and quirky tech house grooves that still work even when held back by a limiter is as synonymous with the Berlin party experience as are the improvised wooden interiors, psychedelic decor and joyful ideas that spawned a legion of other clubs to follow suit since its closure. Now rejuvenated as part of the Holzmarkt project in the same space, we’re taking a look back at the sounds that represented the club. To do this we enlisted someone very close to the project, who could also share some of his favorite memories from the club: Jake The Rapper, a former Bar25 resident DJ.
“This is an excellent example of original minimal, and minimal was my gateway into the whole techno scene and later Bar25. I feel like there were a lot of parallel scenes happening in the Bar at the same time, so I can’t really say this was the blueprint for the Bar25 sound, but it’s definitely the one I went deep into. When other DJs and their fans would take over right after something I was into, I’d be like, “What is this? This is totally different. I don’t get it”—which is just fine, as the place fed on variety and experimentation. There was also a whole other floor called The Circus that was dedicated exclusively to weirdness and avant-garde music. It was a very open time for music and a very open place. It certainly expanded my tastes and skills and every other part of my mind. But this track, although it came out three years before Bar25 opened, definitely laid the groundwork for the kind of vibe that was really appreciated. This was deep and trippy and softly took me to a place I really wanted to go after having been dancing, partying and socializing—sometimes for days on end.”
“This has some elements of electroclash that were really big at the time. This was the same time when Peaches, Mocky, Gonzales, Puppetmastaz and so on were some the biggest Berlin acts. It definitely influenced pop music and of course in the Bar as well, although it generally went with a more minimal sound than this. This was a big banger in comparison to what usually came before and after it. Is it a bit cheesy? Yes it is. But it’s so smooth that it inevitably got everyone deep up in there and fully involved. Plus I had a few numbers that use this same half-tone progression, and I chose this one for being the most representative of that time and also one that is still playable today.”
“I know this doesn’t even seem like a dance track at all—very mellow. But if I played this during the day between minimal tracks, people really loved it. it’s instantly recognizable without being too poppy or kitschy; it’s deep without being too melancholic—it’s really quite a piece of work. The lyrics are just single nouns in a row—“a life, a room, a house, a street.” It seems to comprise cut-up parts of a poem, and yet it expresses a mood and a scenario that’s somehow Lynchian. And then there are these minor guitar chords that go easy on ya. There’s no kick drum—or any drums per se—and yet it totally grooves and got people dancing, at least in the Ranchette at the Bar25. That may be why the place was unique, you could really DJ tracks to celebrate their spirit without having to kowtow to dance floor dynamics. There was already such a suspense and energy there, even when it was half full a little would go a long way.”
“I feel like this track, despite the fact that it became a tech house club hit nationally and internationally, nonetheless captured the sound of the Bar25. Remember that a lot of the time it was daytime, so something with a deep, warm sound made a lot more sense in bright sunlight than in a dark club. A lot of these kind of songs I think gained popularity through the surge in open-airs and daytime clubs like Bar25. This might have put everybody to sleep in the average German dance club in 2005. But when it’s around midday and you’re sitting, looking out at the Spree while a light breeze makes the straw in your gin and tonic move around so you hear the ice in your glass tinkle…you see yourself reflected in your friend’s sunglasses and you look like you’re really enjoying yourself, and then this big soothing, massaging synth surface lifts you up and you have to just stand up and go YEAHHH! …yeah, that’s a Bar25 moment for me.”Read the rest of this entry »
First thing Front club in Hamburg, what made the place magical and what made you follow Klaus Stockhausen, and his way of DJing?
There were different things falling into place then. I was always interested in club culture and music, but pre-internet you could mostly only read about legendary clubs and its resident DJs. When I first went to Front in 1987 I was 18 years old, and up to then I never heard a DJ who could really mix. Klaus Stockhausen played there since 1983, several times a week, and he had built up a very loyal crowd. The club itself was a raw basement, there was not much to distract from the music, apart from the hedonistic dancers. The place was very intense, and Stockhausen as well as his protegé and successor Boris Dlugosch were incredibly good. Of course you tend to be sentimental about times and places that intiated you into something, but I still have not experienced anything close, both in terms of clubs and DJing. Of course it also helped that those years saw very crucial developments in club music. When I started going there it was the end of that transitional period between Disco and House, which was extremely exciting. And in the following years I frequently went there that excitement persisted. Those were the blueprint years for everything we still dance to now, and I had the privilege to experience it right on the floor. And I learnt a lot of things that I still use.
How did you become part of Hard Wax, was it hard to get that job?
No. Seven years ago all my freelance activities and the according deadlines began to collide with being a father. My wife suggested some more steady work to complement and that I could ask for a job at the store, as I was a very regular customer anyway. Coincidentally Achim Brandenburg aka Prosumer quit working there at that time and they were thinking about asking me to replace him. So within a short time I sat down with the owner Mark Ernestus and the store manager Michael Hain and got the job.
I know you like to write about music, but why do you hate to write reviews?
I actually do not hate writing reviews at all. But after doing that for several years at de:bug magazine I felt I was increasingly running out of words to accurately describe the music I was given the task to review, and I think keeping a fresh perspective is mandatory in that aspect. But more importantly writing reviews does not work too well with running a label yourself, and working at Hard Wax. On the one hand I wanted to avoid allegations of being biased, on the other hand I had to keep potential implications of my writing commitments out of my other work. So I began to lay my focus on features and interviews, mostly from a historical perspective. I am not afraid of discourse and speaking my mind on certain topics if I feel it is necessary, but I am very cautious to remain objective.
Can you tell us what is Druffalo?
Druffalo is a semi-anonymous collective of six seasoned DJs and writers living in Berlin, Mannheim and Cologne, and was founded in 2007. It used to be a rather notorious web fanzine celebrating aspects of culture we felt were worth celebrating, and we were pretty merciless in pointing out aspects of culture we felt were not worth celebrating at all. The web magazine is defunct for a while now, as at some point the server we were running on mysteriously disconnected us and we thought it was a good statement to just disappear. The whole archive is backed up though, so nobody should feel too safe. Attached to it was a DJ collective called the Druffalo Hit Squad, consisting of the same six editors and likeminded guests. We did an influential mix series that is archived on Mixcloud, and we were constantly throwing parties that were pretty anarchic. Since the end of 2015 we took up a bi-monthly residency at the club Paloma Bar in Berlin, where we mostly define our idea of a modern Soul allnighter, using our vast archive of Disco, Soul and Garage House records. But there are also plans to return to the eclecticism of former years.
Do you think your Macro label is becoming a genre in itself, like RE-GRM, ECM, L.I.E.S., or Blackest Ever Black?
No, I do not think so, nor were Stefan Goldmann and me ever interested in establishing a certain trademark label sound that we have to fulfill with every release. We are more interested in working with producers that have developed their own signature sound, as long as it fits in with our own preferences. Our idea of running a label is very open, it is only determined by what we are interested in, and we are both very different individuals. We only release what we both agree on and that, combined with the consistent collaboration with our designer Hau, resulted in a certain coherence, although our back catalogue is rather diverse. We were also always aiming for the long run, and we both feel that you only can achieve that with a healthy amount of leeway and fresh ideas. Of course it is also important to have an identity, but we much prefer that to be based on reliable quality than sound aesthetics that create or reflect trends but are likely to end up as mere expectations. I do not think we are really comparable to the labels you mentioned, too. We had some archival releases, and we might have influenced some musical developments, but neither are essential to what we do.
You published your first book „Love Saves The Day“ in 2003, and although there had been plenty of literature on the topic of the classic Disco era of the 70s in New York City, it still stood out. What led you to write it?
I don’t know if that much had been written. Albert Goldman’s book „Disco“ had come out in 1979 and contains a small amount of information on David Mancuso’s private party, the Loft, and the Sanctuary, the discotheque where the pioneering Francis Grasso DJed, but it’s main focus is on the midtown discotheque Studio 54. In 1997 Anthony Haden-Guest published „The Last Party“, but that was mainly about Studio 54 and was largely concerned with celebrity culture. Both had a completely difficult reading of disco to the one I developed in “Love Saves the Day”, which focused on the influence of DJs on the rise of dance culture and what came to be known as Disco. I thought they missed the underlying dynamic of what made the culture so exciting.
Is it true that „Loves Saves The Day“ originally started out as an introductory chapter of a book about House Music?
Yes, that is true. The book about House Music was supposed to start in mid-1980s Chicago and then move on to New York City and the beginnings of UK Rave culture. I was born in 1967, so for me Disco was the music I liked when I was a kid, because the music reached its commercial peak in 1977/78. By the time I was in my 20s I was ready for something completely different and that came in the form of House Music, thus the original idea for the book. But I ended up interviewing David Mancuso early into my research, even though he was a relatively unknown figure at the time, and when he suggested that the history should begin with the Loft in 1970 I asked other interviewees, including house legends Tony Humphries, Frankie Knuckles and David Morales, if they’d heard of David and the Loft. They all replied that the Loft had been a transformational experience and so I quickly came to understand that the history of underground dance culture—a culture that ended up inspiring Disco—had yet to be narrated. Initially I thought I’d write a chapter about the 1970s but by the time I’d written 500 pages I’d only reached the end of 1979, so that turned out to be a book in itself. I just became fascinated by the way in which the communication between the person selecting the records and the dancing crowd introduced an entirely different form of musicianship to the world.
This marked the beginnings of contemporary DJ culture and it amounted to a form of democratic music-making that was firmly rooted in the counterculture, or the social forces that were unfolding in the US of that era. Before the beginning the 1970s DJs were required to “kill the dance floor” with a slow song every five or six records in order to persuade dancers to buy a drink. But when Mancuso and Grasso started playing at the beginning of 1970 they played to dancers who were rooted in the culture of gay liberation, civil rights, feminism, experimentation with LSD, and the anti-war movement. Grasso was already playing at the Sanctuary in the late 1960s and told me it was quite boring, but when the Sancutary became the first public discotheque to welcome gay men onto the dance floor at the beginning of 1970 the dancing became much more energetic and Grasso decided to try to maintain the intensity by inventing the technique of mixing two records together. Mancuso, meanwhile, started to hold dance parties in his downtown loft on Valentine’s Day 1970 and gave the party the name “Love Saves the Day”, which referenced universal love and the acid trip. Rather than mix records together, Mancuso took his dancers on a transformational journey through the juxtaposition of sound.
There is a direct lineage from the early days of The Loft through to New York dane venues such as the Paradise Garage, because the Garage owner Michael Brody and his resident DJ Larry Levan were Loft regular. The influence extends to the origins of House Music, because Robert Williams attended the Loft before he opened the Warehouse in Chicago, where he employed Frankie Knuckles to DJ, and the coinage House Music first referred to the music Knuckles would play at the Warehouse. Knuckles was also a Loft regular. So in many paths led back to the Loft. Everything seemed to be connected.
Were the interviewees in „Love Saves The Day“ waiting to tell their story?
Yes, because up to then it had not really been told, even if their cultural influence in the 70s turned out to be enormous. By the time I got home after that first interview with David Mancuso word there were five messages from people he knew and who were ready to talk on my answer machine—so it seems as though he trusted me and that there was a desire for this untold story to be told. One of the messages was from the DJ Steve D’Acquisto, who introduced me to Francis Grasso, and so things unfolded from there. This all took place in 1997, so a couple of years, I believe, before Bill Brewster and Frank Broughton started to track down David and Francis for their book „Last Night A DJ Saved My Life“.
Did you feel it was important to emphasize the political aspects of Disco?
I would say they emphasised themselves because Disco was so obviously political. The backlash against Disco peaked with the Disco Demolition night at a baseball game in Chicago’s Comiskey Park on July 12th 1979, where a local radio DJ asked the audience to bring Disco records and then blew them up in the middle of the baseball double-header. It amounted to a Mid-Western backlash against the multicultural and polysexual coalition that underpinned disco culture and I’ve argued that in many respects we can track the rise of Donald Trump (and before him Ronald Reagan) to this moment. Disco became one of the first scapegoats for the decline of industrial culture in the United States and Trump appealed to the same disenfranchised and discontented demographic. I’m always interested in the correlation between music scenes and the wider culture in which they occur. So “Love Saves the Day” was about more than Disco, even if Disco was one of its central concerns. It’s important to remember that Disco music didn’t emerge as a genre until 1974, so the first for years of the book analyse a period when the culture was fermenting but didn’t have a name or a settled sound. It’s also important to note the version of disco depicted in „Saturday Night Fever“ had very little to do with the kind of culture that was still taking place in downtown New York, and by the end of 1978 downtown DJs were also becoming tired of commercial disco. The quality of the music had declined and it was time for something new. But the downtown expression of the culture survived the backlash. Read the rest of this entry »
There is a whole lot of claiming who did what when and where first as far as the origins of house music are concerned, and I do not intend to complicate the matter even further. But Colonel Abrams produced an 8-track tape with Boyd Jarvis and Timmy Regisford as early as 1982 which included this, and a lot of the legendary DJs in New York City and Chicago and beyond were rinsing it. Just saying!
Colonel Abrams – Music Is The Answer (1984, Streetwise)
There is a whole lot of claiming who did what when and where first as far as the origins of house music are concerned, and I do not intend to complicate the matter even further. But Colonel Abrams produced and released this track as early as 1984, and even more of the legendary DJs in New York City and Chicago and beyond were rinsing it. Just saying!
Colonel Abrams – Trapped (1985, MCA)
Still a house prototype, but now he paired his inimatibly determined vocal style with the shoulder pads and fierce dance moves of the day and stormed the charts. It was about time!
Colonel Abrams – Speculation (1985, MCA)
The second hit of his breakthrough and glory year. Handclaps galore and another bold funky groove, mixed by NYC club music protagonist Timmy Regisford.
Colonel Abrams – Over And Over (1985, MCA)
A mighty fine demonstration that Colonel Abrams could well navigate his way beyond punchier dancefloor imperatives. A slick and beautiful R&B ballad, both in tune with other productions of mid 80s post-disco reality, yet still very much him doing the own thing he created.
Colonel Abrams – I’m Not Gonna Let (1985, MCA)
This is basically a sequel to „Trapped“, but not a few people would say it is even more irresistible. I am most probably one of many going out to clubs in the mid 80s who observed this did not go away for a long time, and got them all dancing everytime it was played. And it still does.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-U0Wsr-t3DQ
Colonel Abrams – How Soon We Forget (1987, MCA)
Only adding a bit of the piano stylings introduced by the Chicago house producers he paved the way for, Colonel Abrams still rode his sound in 1987. Only by then he faced a lot more competiton in terms of club music, and his efforts to satisfy the pop market with slower R&B tracks suffered from the lack of distinctive hits. Sadly he seemed to get lost in the middle and his promising career slowed down considerably. Still, this is up with what led him there in the first place.
Funktion Feat. Colonel Abrams – As Quiet As It’s Kept (Soul Creation, 1993)
After a failed attempt to revive his career as a soul singer on a 1992 album on the Scotti Bros. Label, Colonel Abrams retreated to being a vocal feature for hire on house records throughout the 90s. Even if his voice still stood out as ever, many of said releases were lacking the potential to re-establish him on a level worthy of his beginnings though. Thankfully he found a fitting production counterpart on a string of records he made with the US Garage dons Smack Productions/Mental Instrum. And yes, this is the original template for DJ Dove’s holy grail „Organized“.
Mental Instrum Feat. C.A. – Should Be Dancin’ (Freetown Inc, 1994)
Another supreme example for the congenial drive and fierceness of the collaborations between Colonel Abrams (his real name actually) and the Smack camp. Eventually there was album compiling their finest moments together, but it also failed to get his career on track again. By this point he settled on guest spots on club music records, or had to, with mixed results. Sadly nobody had the idea to give him the opportunity, team and budget to reinvent himself as the soul singer he should have been, and he vanished from sight in the years to come.
Omar S Presents Colonel Abrams – Who Wrote The Rules Of Love (2011, FXHE Records)
It was one of the most memorable moments of my time working at Berlin’s Hard Wax record store to discover that Omar S had done this record together with Colonel Abrams after the latter’s several years of silence, and then listening to it, floored by how good it was. In a way his career had gone full circle, with beautiful music produced in way that made both the song and his breathtaking voice shine. I was really sure that this record would not be the last time I ever heard him on a new record, but then it was. I was shocked to learn about the troubles he had, and that they eventually led to him passing away, and I cannot separate this song from his incredibly sad story anymore. But what a song!
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