DJ Sue

DJ Sue
Welcome to my blog. I’m a DJ in Second Life and I find myself discussing the music I’m playing with many of those in attendance at my shows. Unfortunately, when I am busy DJing, I can’t participate and discuss the music as fully as I would like. I’m hoping this blog can help change that. Look here before my set to see if I might be playing something interesting today or maybe after to see if discussion on a topic might continue. You are invited to join in the conversation and leave comments.

Monday, June 20, 2011

Disco


When I hear the word “Disco,” it instantly conjures up images in my mind of guys in bad polyester leisure suits and too much Hai Karate aftershave. Thankfully, the styles have long ago fallen out of fashion but the music remains.  I have a confession to make. I was one of those people who proudly displayed their “Disco Sucks” button.  Yeah, I hated Disco.  It was taking radio airtime away from my beloved Who and Rolling Stones. I was even forced to listen as the Bee Gees, great rockers of the 60s and early 70s, defected to the Disco Camp and sold out to the Man.

Of course any such thoughts of the Bee Gees are unfounded.  I’m not sure when it happened but I eventually warmed to Disco, even found it curiously nostalgic.  Yes, that’s right, nostalgic.  As the decades passed, I found myself tapping my foot and bobbing my head to disco tunes. I even caught myself turning these songs up. What happened? I now have a “Disco” folder in my iPod and I sometimes listen to it and ENJOY it!

The music does bring on some intense nostalgic feelings for me.  Maybe I really loved hating Disco but I think the answer is somewhat more germane to the music.  In the late 70s, when I was a teen, Disco was everywhere, in the media, on the radio, coming from the 8-Track players of cars driving by. In many ways, it was the soundtrack of my teen years.

Today, I no longer hate Disco but embrace it. I will be doing a Disco show, a full two and a half hours, at a Woman’s Touch tonight.  Please come join me as we relive those days.  I’m already seeing visions of John Travolta and Studio 54, necklaces with little coke spoons or razor blades, shiny mirrored disco balls and flashing dance floors. I was living in New Jersey, a short distance from New York City, back then. As these thoughts race through my head, I can’t help but recall the Son of Sam killings too. In my mind, I’m now looking through my old Bermuda purse and noting how strange that I didn’t have a cell phone or a bank card. I get into my car and turn on the radio (AM only) and there it is… Ah ah ah ah stayin’ alive, stayin’ alive… ah ah ah ah stayin’ aliiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiive!

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