Disco Revolution

While I was performing my ode to disco “Oogie Inferno” I realized that disco is truly the music of revolution – it was pop music that fearlessly opted to ignore the macho stance of rock’n’roll, c&w and even r&b. When the ‘disco sucks’ movement was burning Bee Gees albums before baseball games it seems like a futile gesture – today I realized that what the statement really was/is ‘disco sucks cock.’

As I read I saw the ode as a protest piece and that charged it with a different energy. Protest songs are usually strident and angry, this piece isn’t. Like much of disco music it extolled the sheer joy of dance, of being alive – which in a culture that sees pessimism as realistic and that pleasure is shallow plus its its intrenched sexophobia, disco joy is a subtle defiance. While protest music (& most r’n’r)  is heterosexist in your face, disco is queer sex in your pants.

What other music form has allowed for transgressive performers like Sylvester, Divine, Grace Jones while giving new life to the careers of Aretha, Patti & even life support to Madonna. ‘Disco sucks’ because it gave women with big voices even bigger songs to sing.

Beautiful & Damned at Pride 2012 gave each of us the opportunity to share our voices in the midst of this corporate celebration of a queer demographic that isn’t geared to spoken-word. But we where there. Taking the stage in the heat and bringing our own heartbeat to the throb. It worked.

The disco revolution may not be in your face, or even in your pants but it is certainly in your feet.

………..……

Oogie Inferno

if you’re thinkin’ I’m too cool to boogie

boy oh boy have I got news for you

I love the sweaty potential of the dance floor

the solid mass of men mobile   shifting

eagerly crammed    crowded by the bass line

the righteous revival fever of a contralto

everybody here tonight must boogie

let me tell ya’ I was no exception to the rule

the heat was on (burnin’), rising to the top, huh!

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eyes closed   hands open

shirtless strutters in sweat soaked satin shorts

muscles    bloated bellies   no one cares

as flesh wound around  pulled by the driving

boogie oogie oogie

an endless moment of contact high

thigh to thigh contact

the heat was on, rising to the top

where the keyboard was underfoot

put your feet to the beat

peak after peak of solid state sweat

turn this beat around

no voice heard that wasn’t amplified

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no time to waste, let’s get this show on the road

listen to the music and let our bodies flow

yowsa yowsa yowsa

dance dance dance

shame shame shame

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we were shimmering glittering

ready to take on the future

beep beep toot toot

I love the moment of stepping into the mass

the sooner I begin the longer I’ve got to groove

listen to the music and let bodies move

make a space for myself

get approving once overs

then not care who’s lookin’

but when my spark got hot

I heard somebody say

Burn baby burnin’ the house down

gonna boogie oogie oogie

till you just can’t boogie no more

<>

I love the blur as I am transported

out the body   out of the mind

satisfaction (uhu hu hu) in the chain reaction

released from all sense of self

except for the one caught     immersed

push push in the bush bush

lost for hours

boogie oogie oogie

taking a breather wet glistening

asked what are you on

having my answer of nothing disbelieved

as if the music and testosterone

aren’t enough for me to

burn that cocksucker down

because have I got news for you

this could be the last dance

everybody here tonight must

boogie oogie oogie