![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Let's play Sin With Sebastian's massive 1995 European hit song "Shut Up (And Sleep With Me)".
Disposable songs are always fun, and yes, as far as I can determine Sin with Sebastian was a one-hit wonder. It's worth noting that while it was a Top Ten, frequently #1, hit in Europe, it charted considerably lower in the United States and presumably Canada, this latter even though MuchMusic played the above video frequently. Yes, I watched it. Yes, even at the time it was enjoyable. As a point of fact, even though I don't have that much fondness for the song, I do tend to quite like the sort of New Wave songs and their synthesized descendants and cousins that are closely related to this song. I've even looked up Donna Summer on YouTube, and I have a dozen remixes of "Sweet Dreams (Are Made of This)" on my laptop. A friend once remarked that even though I pass for straight reasonably well, or did at the time, at least, my three thousand mp3s and assorted CDs would out me.
You know, it's funny that music could out you. Why would a fondness for remixes reveal one to be queer? It's worth noting that this attitude seems to prevail only in North America, as evidenced not only by the popularity of the above song. Take the Scissor Sisters.
Disco is one of several ancestors to New Wave music, synthpop music, dance music, et cetera. In North America, the music's social associations seem to have fueled a nasty disco backlash.
"Blacks and gays." Um. Hi there.
Europe didn't suffer that backlash, and European popular musics continued to diverge from American popular musics, hence the continued acceptability of song stylings like the above.
I recognize the importance of songs related to the above, however, to the GLBT community. What continues to perplex me is the question of how I managed to latch onto these musics. I mean, I didn't grow up with much if any contact with queer culture, and by the time that I learned of the associations my tastes were already set. Unconscious osmosis?
Disposable songs are always fun, and yes, as far as I can determine Sin with Sebastian was a one-hit wonder. It's worth noting that while it was a Top Ten, frequently #1, hit in Europe, it charted considerably lower in the United States and presumably Canada, this latter even though MuchMusic played the above video frequently. Yes, I watched it. Yes, even at the time it was enjoyable. As a point of fact, even though I don't have that much fondness for the song, I do tend to quite like the sort of New Wave songs and their synthesized descendants and cousins that are closely related to this song. I've even looked up Donna Summer on YouTube, and I have a dozen remixes of "Sweet Dreams (Are Made of This)" on my laptop. A friend once remarked that even though I pass for straight reasonably well, or did at the time, at least, my three thousand mp3s and assorted CDs would out me.
You know, it's funny that music could out you. Why would a fondness for remixes reveal one to be queer? It's worth noting that this attitude seems to prevail only in North America, as evidenced not only by the popularity of the above song. Take the Scissor Sisters.
Scissor Sisters are certified superstars who sell millions of records and fill massive arenas with their funky mix of retro disco pop — well, at least in England and the rest of Europe.
There, the quintet is an international hit. But in the United States, their home country, the New York-based band has yet to break through the "cult" barrier — critically acclaimed but commercially on mainstream's bubble.
Still, Ana Matronic, the group's lone female member, doesn't seem too vexed about the group's inability to pop that bubble stateside.
"I'm not interested in any of what is successful in America right now," says the vocalist. "The last thing I want to be is fodder for American tabloids. That's not the kind of success I want."
Disco is one of several ancestors to New Wave music, synthpop music, dance music, et cetera. In North America, the music's social associations seem to have fueled a nasty disco backlash.
New Jersey rock critic Jim Testa wrote "Put a Bullet Through The Jukebox", a vitriolic screed attacking disco that was a punk call to arms. Testa argued that "there were a lot of legitimate, artistic reasons to hate disco that didn't have anything to do with hating black or gay people." A number of punk bands wrote and recorded anti-disco songs out of contempt for what they belived disco ideologically stood for: Namely, what they considered its vacuousness, superficiality, the use of drum machines, electronic backing, the hedonism, elitism and its political apathy (portrayed in "Saturday Night Holocaust"). In the late 1970s, Disco music and dancing fads began to be depicted by other rock music fans as silly and effeminate, such as in Frank Zappa's satirical song "Dancin' Fool". Some listeners objected to the perceived sexual promiscuity and illegal drug use that had become associated with disco music. Others were put off by the exclusivity of the disco scene, especially in major clubs in large cities such as the Studio 54 discothèque, where bouncers only let in fashionably-dressed club-goers, celebrities, and their hangers-on. Rock fans objected to the idea of centering music around an electronic drum beat and synthesizers instead of live performers.
Some historians have referred to July 12, 1979 as "the day disco died" because of an anti-disco demonstration that was held in Chicago. Rock station DJs Steve Dahl and Garry Meier, along with Michael Veeck, son of Chicago White Sox owner Bill Veeck, staged Disco Demolition Night, a promotional event with an anti-disco theme, between games at a White Sox doubleheader for disgruntled rock fans. During this event, which involved exploding disco records, the raucous crowd tore out seats and turf in the field and did other damage to Comiskey Park. It ended in a riot in which police made numerous arrests. The damage done to the field forced the Sox to forfeit the second game to the Detroit Tigers who won the first game. The stadium suffered thousands of dollars in damage.
On July 21 six days after the riot the top six records on the U.S. charts were of the disco genre. By September 22 there were no disco records in the top 10. The media in celebratory tones declared disco dead and rock revived.
"Blacks and gays." Um. Hi there.
Europe didn't suffer that backlash, and European popular musics continued to diverge from American popular musics, hence the continued acceptability of song stylings like the above.
I recognize the importance of songs related to the above, however, to the GLBT community. What continues to perplex me is the question of how I managed to latch onto these musics. I mean, I didn't grow up with much if any contact with queer culture, and by the time that I learned of the associations my tastes were already set. Unconscious osmosis?
