There are not many DJs who can look back on such a long and successful career as the 54 year old New Yorker Danny Tenaglia. Towards the end of last year he confirmed his extraordinary status once again during a rare visit to Germany where he played at Berlin’s Panorama Bar and Berghain on the same weekend. His enduring popularity can certainly be attributed to his often several hours long sets which still are packed with the most relevant new records of the current day. After all these years, Tenaglia still has his eyes on the future instead of the past. For this interview, though, he made an exception and looks back to the beginnings of his career.
Apparently you got hooked on dance music at a very young age. What led you into it? Were you coming from a musical household, or did you learn by yourself, by listening to the radio for example?
Growing up in the 1960s and 70s, we (mom, dad and four brothers) had always been around all kinds of music especially during big family gatherings, which were quite often. It was mostly my mom’s side as she was one of nine children. My dad only had one sister and his side was very reserved. All of my mom’s siblings were married and they all had children except for one aunt. This brought me 20 cousins, ten boys and ten girls, and when we all gathered together it was like an army! (laughs) We also had many second relatives and we were all born and raised in Williamsburg, Brooklyn, which is extremely popular these days since it is very close to Manhattan. Back then, Williamsburg was like a big version of Little Italy. When I visit Naples, Italy, it always reminds me so much of my childhood since Naples still looks exactly the same as it did 50 years ago. I can relate so well to the people there and on the island of Ischia as well.
I truly consider that this all started for me when I was only just a tiny fetus inside of what I call: “The Boom Womb Room!“ I guess I was always paying attention to beats, rhythms and melodies long before I knew what they even were. There was always music in my childhood. My mom’s younger sister Nancy was unable to have children of her own. However, she wound up becoming the most influential person in our entire family and had a wonderfully gifted voice. She always had music on. She bought records very often as there was coincidentally a record store right on our block. She even taught herself how to play piano and guitar by ear and this was initially how I learned to play as well.
Our family often had good reason to celebrate events like birthdays, weddings, anniversaries, family picnics, local catholic church festivals from the schools we all attended. I grew up listening to a lot of typical music that elderly Italian people would listen and dance to. Besides the obvious traditional music for dancing like the Tarantellas and the big band Benny Goodman swing music, there was plenty of the 50’s Doo Wop music as that’s what was big for them during this era. So I had no choice but too hear it all. Frank Sinatra, Barbra Streisand, The Beatles, Bossanovas and lots of soul music as well, Motown records particularly. Sometimes I think maybe my family were the ones to have invented karaoke? (laughs) There were many relatives who would love to take turns and sing their hearts out. And to end this deep question, it was most definitely my very dear aunt and godmother Nancy who taught me (and many of us) how to fully appreciate God’s gift of music, how to “feel it deep down in your soul“ and how by the changing of one simple chord that could be played with „great emotion“, it could bring upon unexplainable goose-bumps and quite often – even tears!
Were you aware that the music of those years was extraordinarily important, or was it just what was around then?
I definitely knew in my soul that it was meaningful. But I don’t think I realized how important it all was for me until I passed the age of ten and was realizing what type of music I was loving the most and only wanted to hear music I liked, as I was becoming sick and tired of the Frank Sinatra music and I was not a big fan of ballads and slow music until I eventually got heavily into soul music. I knew that I had possessed an incredibly deep passion for music since birth as relatives and friends would always make it obvious to my parents by saying things like: „One way or another this kid is going to be in the music business when he grows up“, because it basically was the only thing I displayed interest in. I had all kinds of little instruments and child record players, even reel to reel tape machines for kids. However, it did not truly hit me until I was about eleven or twelve when I was quickly finished with some music lessons because I was very young and did not like the discipline and how strict they were with me. They first took me for piano and then guitar lessons. I even attempted saxophone in seventh grade.
I had a great ear for music and which melodies worked together and which ones did not. Unfortunately, I did not posses „the gift“ of mastering an instrument, but I guess that ultimately it was a DJ mixer that became my main instrument of choice that I am stilling playing with today nearly 40 years later.
When you were still a kid, you got to know the prolific DJ Paul Casella, who played a part in turning you onto the profession. Can you tell how that shaped your decision to pursue a career in DJing?
Well, this is where I had then realized instantly at the mere age of twelve years old upon hearing an eight-track tape mixed continuously by Paul that I was somewhat mesmerized by because when I expected a song would end, then another would blend in. Sometimes harmonically on key and sometimes so perfectly that I kept asking my cousin who made this tape and how did he do this and how did he do that? Long story short, I called the telephone number on the 8-Track tape and Paul Casella happened to be nearby and came to our families grocery store and he brought us more 8-Track tapes. He wanted to meet me as he was amazed some little “little kid” was so impressed with him and the art of DJ-ing. I guess it was right around then in 1973 that I never showed much interest in anything else, including sports. I was not interested in any subjects in school, I was only interested in music, becoming a DJ, getting professional DJ equipment and getting gigs in big nightclubs and eventually this obviously led to my second career by nature which was producing music of my own, collecting synths, drum machines and various studio gear.
As you loved the music and heard about what was going down in the seminal clubs of that era, I guess you could not wait until you were old enough to go there yourself. Was it like you had imagined it to be? What kind of clubs could you already go to?
I was barely a teenager, so nightclubs were still a long way for me. But I can recall the anxiety and being extremely envious of my two older brothers, because they would go out often. But their interest was mainly to drink with their friends, meet girls and do what most guys from Brooklyn were doing in 1975. It wasn’t much different than what you can see in the movie Saturday Night Fever, including the fighting! However, when I was about 16 or 17 my older brothers would sometimes sneak me in to a few places which I will remember forever, and then they and other mature relatives and friends would basically chaperone me when I got my first job in a corner bar called The Miami Lounge in Williamsburg, Brooklyn. It was just a few blocks away from our house and the nights were starting at 9 pm, but my parents wanted me home by 1 am. The lounge is still there and it’s walking distance from the new and already famous club Output. The lounge looks exactly the same as it did in the 1970s but it’s now also a restaurant as well. I’m not sure of it’s current name, though.
You then had the privilege to witness some of the most celebrated clubs and DJs in New York like the Loft and the Paradise Garage and numerous others. Are the first impressions of those nights still vivid? Was it every bit as outstanding as it is described up to this day?
Yes, yes and yes! The Paradise Garage, The Loft, Inferno, Better Days, Starship Discovery 1, The Saint, Crisco Disco and many, many more that had come but now are sadly all gone! It’s a shame we don’t have much footage or even great photos of so many of these nostalgic parties and venues. There were so many options back then from all the way in Downtown Manhattan up to 57th Street and from East to West, seven nights a week. We had big venues, small venues, raw underground parties with no decor at all and obvious mega places like Studio 54 and Xenon. Then as the 80s came around we saw lots of changes with all kinds of theme parties at places like The Limelight, Area, Roxy and others. Read the rest of this entry »
In discussion with Justin Strauss on “Computer World” by Kraftwerk (1981).
Can you still remember the first time you ever heard Kraftwerk?
Yes. I think the first time I heard them I was 17 years old, in England, recording an album for Island Records with the band I was in at the time, Milk n Cookies. I heard the song “Autobahn” on the radio there and remember thinking how different and cool it sounded than anything else out there. I bought a copy of the 7″ while I was there.
What made you decide for “Computer World” out of the many legendary albums? Do you agree with many critics and fans that they were at there creative peak with this?
Although I love all their albums, “Computer World” for me was just the best. Perfect in every way. I totally agree that this was their “masterpiece”.
In discussion with Bill Brewster on “Sextet” by A Certain Ratio (1982).
What is your personal history with this particular album? How and when was your first encounter with it?
I bought it the week it came out. I had just moved back to Grimsby (my hometown) after working in London and Switzerland as a chef for five years. I didn’t know what I wanted to do with my life but I knew I didn’t want to spend the rest of it sweating in a kitchen. I’d met some new people who were trying to do cool stuff with music. We’d all been punks in 1976 and 1977 but got bored of how musically limited it all was. We were searching for something new. We had a musical mentor, a guy who ran a musical instrument shop with a few boxes of records in the back, called Roy Bainton. He was 15 years older than us and knew loads about music, everything from Mike Westbrook and Carla Bley to Graham Central Station and, in particular, the blues. We were listening to all this brilliant old stuff that was new to us and also discovering bands like A Certain Ratio and 23 Skidoo who, like us, were also groping towards something different. We were in the process of forming a band when this album came out.
What made you decide for „Sextet“ instead of other of their albums?
They toured to promote this album and we went to see them at this bizarre wine bar in Leeds. I went with all the guys who were in my band. The venue was brightly lit, chrome-plated, horrible. And it was nearly empty, but they didn’t give a fuck: they were astonishing, really tight (helped somewhat by Donald Johnson’s prowess behind the traps). I suppose what “„Sextet“” represents to me is a crossroads of where I had arrived and where they were headed; a sort of Robert Johnson involving trams, drizzle and Northern misery. What is interesting about „Sextet“, listening back now, is that they’d reached a certain competence on their instruments but they still had a thirst for wayward and interesting song ideas and arrangements. Later on, when they were recording stuff like “Don’t You Worry Bout A Thing”, they ended up sounding like those pale Britfunk imitations of the real deal, whereas what makes „Sextet“ endearing is that they sound like nothing and no-one else. The world they inhabited then, it seemed to me, was hermetically sealed from outside influences. I imagined them living together in a big house in Whalley Range, a bit like the Monkees, except with acid and analogue instruments. Read the rest of this entry »
1988, im Blütejahr von Acid House, war die Sachlage eigentlich klar. In den USA war Acid roh und funky und entschieden billig-analog, die Chicago Originators allerdings schon auf dem Sprung zum nächsten Ding (Hip House vorerst, da lässt sich die Geschichte nicht klittern), und Detroits Brüder im Geiste machten etwas ganz Anderes aus der Vorlage. In England hingegen griffen die traditionellen Mechanismen der Hype-Presse und Acid wurde zur Bewegung. Und diese war in Klang und Mode überwiegend Pop. Im Gegensatz zu den amerikanischen Ur-Tracks, die voll in ihrer Funktionalität aufgingen, kam man auf der Insel nicht ohne den stilistischen Mehrwert aus. Also wurde alles day-glo, Smileys, Acid Ted und Space Cadet, und man hielt Radlerhosen und Bandanas für ein unbedenkliches Outfit. Man brauchte erneut Gesichter, und im Rückenwind von Yazz, Baby Ford, D-Mob quietschten und blubberten Varianten in die Charts und Clubs, die mit der experimentellen Ausprägung des Ausgangsmaterials nicht mehr viel zu tun hatten. Und dann kamen 808 State aus Manchester mit ihrem Debütalbum ”Newbuild“, einer komplett anderen Interpretation all der Zufallsklänge, die sich mit einer 303 erzielen ließen. Graham Massey, vormalig Mitglied der Post Punk-Veteranen Biting Tongues, Martin Price, Besitzer des legendären Plattenladens Eastern Bloc und Gerald Simpson, das Voodoo Ray-Wunderkind, hatten offensichtlich weder Interesse daran, den Sound aus Chicago zu kopieren, noch ihn mit käsigen Samples zu Top of the Pops-Material umzubiegen. Ihr Entwurf war kalt und irre, ein einziges manisches Flirren, das bereits von den komplexen Rhythmen vorangehetzt wurde, die Markenzeichen der Band blieben. Wo die Boulevardpresse sich mit Drogenvorwürfen gegen die vergleichsweise charmanten aber eher harmlosen Hits der Szene warm schoss, war eigentlich hier der wahre Feind. Musik, die gleichermaßen klang wie ein weitäugiger Rausch im Strobonebel der Clubs, sowie eben auch ein weitäugiger Rausch inmitten der grauen Fiesheit mancher Gegenden nordenglischer Städte, dessen Stumpfheit die Kids im Strobonebel der Clubs bekämpfen wollten. Der komplexe Irrsinn von ”Flow Coma“ oder ”Sync/Swim“ hat nichts von seinem Schockpotential eingebüßt, und ebnete den Weg derer, für die die Clubmusik der folgenden Jahre nicht mit Behaglichkeit einherzugehen hatte, also in etwa das Bindeglied der Hinterhältigkeit und Radikalität von Cabaret Voltaire und Konsorten und Aphex Twin und Konsorten, und dann wieder zurück nach Chicago zu Traxx und Jamal Moss. Wie so oft ließ sich der Intensitätslevel des Erstlings nicht halten, wie so oft probierte man sich danach mit anderen Ideen aus, man überwarf sich, man ging getrennte Wege, und man produzierte das nächste Meisterwerk, in anders aber mindestens ebenso bedeutend, ”Automanikk“ hier, und ”Ninety“ da. Der Stoff, aus dem die Träume sind.
In discussion with Philip Marshall about the album “Introspective” by the Pet Shop Boys (1988).
There is plenty to choose from in the history of the Pet Shop Boys, why did you pick this album? It’s all about time, and my personal trajectory. In late 88 I was 16, going on 17… And life was unfurling before me. No longer trapped in suburbia, I was spending increasing times in London Town, growing up, and learning all about myself – clubbing and all that entails included. I dug deep into London’s rich vein of “equity culture”, and quickly discovered my late teenage was perfectly in sync with the most exciting of explosions in music culture since post-punk. At this time, lines were blurred. I made a commitment to myself, and sold off hundreds of indie vinyl down the Notting Hill record & tape exchange in order to fund my new-found love of nightlife and the music coupled to it. No mop-headed moaning guitar drivel would ever sully my collection again (or, so I thought back then…). An end to teenage angst, sold by the crate-load. Out with the gloom. In with 808 State, Electribe 101 and never ending weekends… But, the electronic pop I had loved when young stayed with me…
I think it is safe to say that they wanted to do something different from their first two albums. How do you place this in the output of the Pet Shop Boys?
It’s all about timing – “Introspective” was released that November, when my introspection first ended. A thread – from a pop past, to a future life. For them, it was a definite embrace of the then fresh house culture that Europe had plunged into – a relatively brave move for an established pop act and before others, such as ABC, jumped that train… As far as placing in their personal timeline, well one of the things I love about this album is its single-minded stance. Although the songwriting and lyricism is as strong as what went before and what was to come, its formatting, arrangement and structure was wilfully, almost arrogantly, other. Here was a group having number one hits in Europe and the USA, coming off the back of two consecutive number ones, and returning with a release that 1.) was six tracks long, 2.) comprised of extended mixes, 3.) didn’t have their image on the cover, 4.) was oblique, lyrically, in parts… The confidence and, presumably, freedom from EMI’s meddling that their earlier success lent them, afforded them the space to make an other statement. A few weeks ago, I was tearing through the English countryside with Jon Wozencroft , on our way to a Suffolk performance. His car had a cassette player, and we were rifling through his old tape collection. “Introspective” was played. We agreed; it is the “Sgt. Pepper” of house – the sound of a band at the peak of its popularity stretching and flexing its remit without fear of a crash. Read the rest of this entry »
We’re sorted out for E’s and Wizz, the stereo of the overcrowded Jensen Interceptor heading up the M25 is blasting out The Spinmasters, while the Druffalos either make guestlist calls, read the latest Morley or WSC, sort out which trainers to wear or look nervously on the fuel display. We await 20000 hardcore members in longsleeves in a disused hangar in the middle of a field. We saw the lasers a while ago but we already missed the exit three times, ran out of water and beer, got police on our back, and it’s getting pitch dark.
This is the sound of the Druffalo Hit Squad’s UK edition of the international Rave Chronicles. Now hear this!
Bassheads – Non Verbal Communication (Deconstruction) Shades Of Rhythm – Musical Freedom (Aquatic) Yin Yang – Oh One (Rumour) Dr. Baker – Kaos (Desire) Orbital – Fahrenheit 3D3 (FFRR) The Garden Of Eden – The Serpent In The Garden (Pepper) Mark Rutherford – Get Real (Fourth & Broadway) Nemesis – After The Storm (Intrigue) Break The Limits – Fire Away (Break The Limits) Hardcore – Get A Little Stupid (XL) Nicolette – Single Minded People (Shut Up And Dance) Paradox – Jailbreak (Ronin) For This II – Trak 1 (Ozone) Eurythmics – Sweet Dreams (RCA) Midi Rain – Always (Vinyl Solution) N Joi – Malfunction (Deconstruction) Bizarre Inc – Technological (Blue Chip) Baby Ford – Fordtrax (Rhythm King) Altern 8 – Objective (Network) C & M Connection – Bio Rhythms (Network) The Black Dog – Erb (General Productions) Nightmares On Wax- Aftermath (Warp) Unique 3 – The Theme (Ten) Cyclone – A Place Called Bliss (Network) Fila Brazillia – Mermaids (Pork) A Guy Called Gerald – Untitled (CBS) 808 State – Pacific State (ZTT) Fine Young Cannibals – I’m Not The Man I Used To Be
This is very early electronic music, from White Noise’s first album from 1969. They were among the first to use synthesizers in a rock context and their music became very influential later on. This particular track seems indeed way ahead of its contemporaries, and it is pretty wild.
I didn’t know that at all. I had problems listening through it, it is almost disturbing. From today’s point of view it maybe is not that overtly experimental anymore, but setting it into the time of its production, it is very cool.
There certainly was not much comparable music back then.
The sound is very good. They already had synthesizers? There is a lot of space in the production. If you would not have told me, I would never have guessed that it is so old. The arrangement and the noisy parts reminded me of destructed Amen breaks, totally distorted. Very interesting.
Quartz – Chaos
The next one is by Quartz from France . Also early synthesizer music, but within a disco context.
I was not into that at all. My calendar does not really start before 1990 or so. Even stuff like early Model 500, Cybotron, it is ok, but it’s not mine. I also can’t get into Kraftwerk. What has been called techno from 1990 on was what got me to listen to music consciously for the first time. I was never the one to check the influences on music that I like. I know Disco only from TV, Saturday Night Fever and such. I was never really interested in it.
Is that based on a basic antipathy towards the sounds of disco music?
There was a short period I found it exciting, around the time the filter and cut-up disco house arrived with DJ Sneak, all the sample stuff. But that was over pretty soon when all the records started to sound the same. So yes, it is based on principle that I don’t like the sounds too much.
So you were more interested in how a track was built on samples than where they came from?
Exactly. It was fascinating to me how all could be said in a loop that went for three minutes, if it was a cool one. Longer than that it could get boring. Of course you can’t compare that to what happens in the original disco track, there was more happening there than in house tracks, which only used bits. It was interesting that many people used the same samples and you became aware that there must some source for it. But sample based productions are not my philosophy. I never wanted to just use bits of other people’s music.
Those disco house records also did not always pay tribute to disco, they deconstructed it, and often in a not very respectful manner.
Not at all. It’s strange how American producers often deal with each other, all that stealing amongst themselves. But in the end we all benefited from that (laughs). Read the rest of this entry »
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