Disco and Gay Culture in the 1970s

One journalist in a classic gay entertainment magainze, After Dark, provided his readers with an informal documentation of how disco grew to be a part of the gay community. This kind of historical retelling was extremely popular in the queer community of the time and even to this day due to the fact that popular historical narratives do not provide significant focus on the experiences of margianlized people. As Druckman describes, disco as a musical genre became popular among the queer and black communities around the mid-1960s. The idea of a disco club originated out of the New York clubs that were dedicated to specific dance moves, like the Watutsi and the Twist. The dance-focused clubs became very popular among the queer community because, for short periods of time, people of the same sex were allowed to openly dance with each other. While this had been the case throughout American history, this time saw queer people participating openly in nightlife in a way that had not been seen in decades. 

As the queer community became more and more visible, so did the nightlife. Legal and illegal gay discos would appear throughout New York City, usually in the seedier neighborhoods of Manhattan. “The Spirit of Sodom and Gomorrah had come to the Big Apple” as scores of gay clubs opened and closed “as frequently as the waxing and waning of the moon” due to neighborhood complaints and safety hazards (Druckman, 1976). Neighborhood complaints, although under the guise of noise complaints, were more targeted at the fact that the club was accepting of queer individuals. Given the fact that the queer community still faced significant discrimination and aggression, club and bar owners were not as interested, or able, to manage their business in a way that was up to code. Over time, these questionably managed and licensed clubs became more formalized and owners were willing to invest money into maintaining their spaces. Discos that catered to heterosexual people also began to open up across the country as the music diffused into the mainstream.

It is not an uncommon feature in music for a community to ascribe meaning to a particular piece given the lyrics and musical elements. Prior to disco, there had been a longstanding association between gayness and musical theater. To this day, many musical and Hollywood stars like Judy Garland and Liza Minnelli are revered by the gay community as icons and whose troubled lives mirror the suffering that they experience as gay individuals. Pieces like  Judy Garland’s performance of “Come Rain or Come Shine”  are songs that members of the gay community resonate with because of the passion and emotional gravity. These songs of sorrowful romance, isolation, and often tragedy; however, did not mesh as well with the late 1960s radical gay’s idea of what it meant to be a queer person in America. The community needed music that was loud, dramatic, heartfelt, but also could be danced to, and disco was exactly that. 

“I Will Survive” is considered to be the disco anthem of the queer community and, by some, to be the quintessential gay piece. Released in 1978 and performed by Gloria Gaynor, this joyous song is an instantly recognizable disco classic that celebrates the open defiance of a protagonist in the face of hardships. Rather than presenting herself as an unfortunate and lost victim of a bad relationship, she sings about her continued strength and desire to live. Not only is the messaging one of strength, but the narrative is one that can be uniquely understood by marginalized people through specific lyrical choices. Many of the lyrical choices are devices that are emblematic of gay camp and African-American wordplay (Hubbs, 2007). Music and Queer Studies scholar Nadine Hubbs describes the singer as the voice of one who is accepting of their humanity and uses that as a means of casting off their oppressor. The use of the minor key serves as a nonverbal cue to the listener that the singer’s words are coming from a place of sadness and personal tragedy, despite the uplifting message. In the end, it is no surprise that this particular song spoke to a newer generation of queer Americans who were both acknowledging the suffering and oppression they experienced, but were interested in finding greater and more open means of expression.

The gay community has historically been active in the arts, and the Disco Era was no exception. Gay entertainment magazines would not only cover news and culture, but they would often make rankings of the week’s top disco hits. Once again, newspapers and magazines are used to create a cultural narrative that provides insight into the music the queer community would listen to and engage with. Although these were written by individuals based on their personal opinions, they still form as a means of shaping community memory and taste. The Sept. 12, 1977 edition of Gaysweek, a magazine for New York City’s gay community, would publish “Disco 10x2” which can be viewed by our modern understanding to be playlists. Some recognizable pieces from this issue include “ San Francisco ” and “ Village People ” by the Village People, “ I Feel Love ” by Donna Summer, and “ Don’t Let Me Be Misunderstood ” by Santa Esmeralda. Although these pieces may not be necessarily part of the mainstream gay musical canon, it can be assumed that these pieces were perceived by the creators to be songs that the community would enjoy or be interested in listening to. 

Not only was disco popularized by the queer community, regularly played in gay spaces, and even produced by members of the community, but the songs themselves contained messaging that resonated with the understanding of what it meant to be gay during the period of Gay Liberation and the years following (Echols, 2011). The rising showiness of disco and disco clubs was not just related to the increased visibility of the queer community, but disco itself was a genre of music and dance that reflected that same desire to be seen. The way disco was performed also reflected this, with the audience being the focus of the music. Rather than having performers up on a stage for people to watch, DJs would play the recorded tracks and listeners would simply dance. Clubs would focus on the atmosphere and their clientele, and their music selection was just a part of that experience. 

Disco nightlife was never the perfect, utopian atmosphere it attempted to be. Despite the unifying messages and the apparent universality of access, the tensions and conflicts that existed in the country at large were reflected in disco culture as well. Gay and straight audiences often came into conflict with each other in discos, with straight people policing gay sexuality and gay people defending their spaces. Some discos were informally labeled as “gay” or “straight” clubs when they first were opened and knowledge of these clubs depended on the circles one operated in. As mentioned before, discos began opening up across the country as disco became more popular outside of the queer community. The formalization of disco clubs as businesses oftentimes came with the consequences of excluding disco’s original patrons from continuing to exist freely in these spaces. If a club had started out as being a space for gay people and it gradually became more popular among heterosexual guests, queer people would gradually stop going. 

Besides the natural cycle of clubs becoming increasingly heterosexual spaces, there were many instances of clubs specifically prohibiting same-sex dancing from occurring. Rather than simply accepting the fact that this particular establishment would not welcome them, the queer community post-Liberation fought back with these regulations. Gaysweek reported on the queer community pushing back against discrimination in Boulder, Colorado bars and cited a specific conflict with the Monkey Bar. The owner had been prohibiting same-sex dancing in the interest of maintaining the non-gay clientele of the club, but local gay organizations and allies picketed the establishment for discriminatory practices. Organized protests of establishments were a norm for many queer rights groups, but interestingly enough, the language used for clubs is very similar to that of the less radical tendencies of the past. Randy Nolan, a member of Boulder Gay Liberation and interviewed in the article, describes the rationale for protesting as simply “wanting to dance” and “not wanting trouble” (Gaysweek, 1979).  

In addition to discriminatory practices by club owners against queer individuals, club owners would also engage in discriminatory practices along racial lines. The relationship between the black and queer communities is a longstanding and tumultuous one that comes into play a great deal during this time period. The fight for Gay Liberation did not always have an intersectional approach and often overlooked some of the issues faced by individuals who existed at the intersections of multiple identities. While there was a great deal of nuances between individual chapters, organizations, and establishments, the majority of gay liberation groups and spaces tended to focus on the interests of white cisgender men who were middle- or upper-class. This not only came into play within the politics of Gay Liberation but in the social aspects as well. 

Discos, in an attempt to expand their appeal, would often cater to a specific clientele that they felt would cultivate a good atmosphere for their club. While this could be construed as a safety measure to protect queer clubgoers or as an innocent way of making their club seem more interesting, metrics for club admittance often fell along racial lines. An issue of Philadelphia Gay News from August 1979 reported on a federal investigation into a Houston disco for reportedly discriminating against nonwhite patrons. “[A] number of disco operations have encountered difficulties over their use of ‘dress codes’ and ‘membership fees,’ which some persons claim are designed to keep young people, minorities, and other ‘undesirables’ out of the clubs” (Philadelphia Gay News, 1979). In short, the queer disco scene was not immune to the issues of racial and socioeconomic hierarchy that continue to affect America today.

Just as disco was used as a means of self-expression for many queer people, others saw disco as the representation of American degeneracy. Cultural and political conservatives had already pushed back hard on the expression of queer identity and the idea that gay people were not only open about their identity but celebrating it was deemed “too far” by others. This slow and steady rise of conservatism came as a result of many civil rights victories in the 1960s and a continued rise of identity politics in the 1970s that ultimately culminated in Ronald Reagan being elected president in 1980. Disco’s emphasis on sexuality through lyric and dance, the opulent imagery of disco artists and clubs, and the diversity among its fans made disco a very clear target for conservatives. Not only that, but the clear connection between disco and marginalized communities allowed for attacks on disco to carry multiple subliminal layers. 

Despite this seemingly wide-open target for cultural conservatives, the queer community was not going to sit quietly. While disco may have been a clear target for conservatives, Anita Bryant was a similarly clear target for a rebuttal. This singer, actress, and full-time homophobe inadvertently united the queer community in their opposition of her. To this day, she is universally hated in the queer community. At the height of her 1977 campaign opposing a Dade County, Florida anti-discrimination ordinance, Gaysweek published an article announcing a series of disco benefits hosted by gay activist organizations. The article jokingly refers to Bryant as the “beloved movement-strengthener” and the benefits are named in her honor (Gaysweek, 1977). Naming disco benefits things like “Up Against the Wall Anita Bryant Ball” and “Anti-Orange Juice Ball” not only was a clever choice, but it pokes fun at the face of queer oppression and utilizes humor to politicize the community. In addition, just as disco was politicized by conservatives, the community is using a means of self-expression and fun as an act of political defiance.

Not all of disco's opponents were as overtly political as cultural conservatives. Another group seemingly affected by the rise of queer visibility is the ever-present powerhouse of the heterosexual white man. The same principles of disco that rallied cultural conservatives also incited the rage of the white man. The 1970s was a time of identity crisis for white men due to the economic challenges facing the country, changes to employment, military defeat in Vietnam, and political rights being granted to women and people of color. This combination of strife caused many men of the decade to feel somewhat emasculated and growing more defensive over their sense of identity. Because disco played such a significant role in promoting and celebrating a new series of masculine values, straight white men directed a lot of their frustration towards disco. “The backlash against disco saw heterosexual men attack disco music because they believed that disco culture limited their ability to interact with women, excluded them from heterosocial spaces, imperiled their heterosexuality, and privileged an inauthentic form of masculinity” (Frank, 2007).