Love it or hate it: Disco

by Patty Templeton

Love itOh my moaning, glitter Christ, are you kidding me? Donna Summer is a sighing, sensual sensation in “I Feel Love.” It’s like her voice is a velvet glove rubbing your ass while she whisper-teases you. Goal: to feel as sexy as that song sounds at least once a day.

Who doesn’t like disco? Assholes. That’s who. How can you not like mirror balls, Rick James, gold lamé, and going out of your mind on a lit-up dance floor to Chic’s “Le Freak”? Disco was and is a reason to party, to lose your shit in the glittery night with other wild-eyed rogues.

And, I’m not sorry, I LOVE the song “Do You Think I’m Sexy,” by Rod Stewart. It’s infectious pop perfection equally as fantastic to belt out in the car as to wiggle to in the shower. It makes me want a three-piece, fitted silver suit just so I can strip out of it while singing to myself and walking toward a full-length mirror.

Get your dancing shoes on because Saturday is coming, and we’re gonna follow the call of the disco ball.

Patty TempletonHate itDon’t you hate it when people are bossy, up in yo bizness, always telling you what to do? Don’t you hate it when people say you should do this or shouldn’t do that? This is disco. Whether it’s telling you to “Get Up and Boogie, That’s Right,” or to “Do the Hustle,” or to “Get Down On It,” disco seems to always know what’s best for everyone else.

I mean, is the four-on-the-floor beat not enough? Are the funky bass lines not funky enough for me to shake what I got? Is it not enough, Disco, that every time you come on I find my hips jutting and swirling? Do you have to be so demanding and pushy?

You don’t need A Taste Of Honey telling you to “Get on up, on the floor, ’cause we’re gonna boogie oogie oogie till you just can’t boogie no more.” What if we have other things to do? You don’t need KC & The Sunshine Band instructing you to “Get down, get down, get down, get down, get down tonight, baby.” We can get down just fine without the pressure. I, for one, would “Keep on dancin’” even if Marvin Gaye had said nothing.

And if Chic pressures you to “Listen to those dancing feet. Close your eyes and let go,” it’s probably a trap. Because it might just turn into an “All Night Thing.”

David Holub

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