Showing posts with label Disco. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Disco. Show all posts

Tuesday, 2 December 2025

The 500 - #132 - Saturday Night Fever Soundtrack - Various Artists

I was inspired by a podcast called The 500 hosted by New York-based comedian Josh Adam Meyers. His goal, and mine, is to explore Rolling Stone Magazine's 2012 edition of The 500 Greatest Albums of All Time.


Album: #132
Album Title: Saturday Night Fever Soundtrack
Artist: Various (Several tracks by Bee Gees)
Genre: Disco
Recorded: Multiple Studios
Released: November, 1977
My age at release: 12
How familiar was I with it before this week: Very
Is it on the 2020 list? Yes, at #163, dropping 31 spots
Song I am putting on my Spotify Playlist: Disco Inferno
I didn’t exactly thrive in elementary school in the sleepy fishing and farming town of Kingsville, Ontario. Truth be told, I wasn’t a big fan of the experience. Still, I made the most of it and, looking back now, I realize there were some good moments tucked in there. Maybe I’m subconsciously ignoring the positive aspect of my four years attending Jack Miner Public School because I enjoyed my high school experience in London, Ontario, so much more.
Jack Miner Public School.
However, I had a few friends during those formative years -- ages 9-12. I also managed to land a spot on a few Grade 8 sports teams, and even played Chiz Upschlager in our school play, A Hillbilly Weddin’, the kind of script that would never get past today’s socially conscious administrators. However, in the 1970s, cultural stereotypes were fair game for pre-teen farce.
Script Jacket for A Hillbilly Weddin'.
In 1977, I was awkwardly navigating Grade 8 as the youngest kid in class, thanks to being bumped ahead after an educational stint in England earlier in the decade. Consequently, I didn’t really click with my classmates, some of whom were 18 months older than I. Indeed, most of my friends were in the Grade 7 class down the hall.

One day, our homeroom teacher, Mr. Desrocher, offered a handful of us the chance to care for the plants in the school greenhouse. I jumped at the opportunity. Any escape from the daily grind felt like a gift. On my first shift, I was paired with Lorelei, a striking brunette who was new to the school and, just like the hothouse flowers we nurtured, a crush began to bloom.

A small greenhouse, similar to the one at Jack Miner School.
Lorelei was easy to like. She was kind, friendly, relaxed, and genuinely passionate about the plants we tended. Me? Not so much. But the actor within that had secured the role of a dopey hillbilly faked the horticultural enthusiasm necessary to spend more time with her.

One afternoon, she asked if I’d be interested in volunteering with her at the John R. Park Homestead and Conservation Area in nearby Harrow. There, we’d learn about life in the 1800s at a restored Classical Revival house and its farm buildings, including one that housed a steam-powered sawmill. Once trained, we could lead weekend tours. Smitten by the idea, and Lorelei, who was now chatting with me nightly on the phone, I jumped at the chance. Much to the surprise of my neighbourhood chums, I traded my beloved street hockey games for history lessons and her company.

The John R, Park Homestead and Conservation Area still exists. See link to website above.
The other thing Lorelei adored was the soundtrack to the 1977 blockbuster hit film, Saturday Night Fever. This time, I didn't have to fake that fandom with her, I knew the tracks well. Even if my parents hadn't owned a copy of the double record, the songs were inescapable on radio in the autumn of 1977 and spring of 1978. Five songs from the disco record had hit the top 10 in Canada. In fact the third song, Night Fever, held the number one spot for five weeks.

I desperately wanted to see the movie, but there wasn’t a theatre in our small town, and persuading my parents to drive me to the nearest city, Windsor, to see an R-rated film loaded with profanity, nudity, and violence was a non-starter. So I improvised. I managed to track down a copy of the novelization, which I naïvely assumed was the original source material. It turned out to be far more salacious than I expected...a real eye-opener for my young, impressionable mind and a crash course in the complexities of adulthood.

The novelization of Saturday
Night Fever
that I owned? or borrowed?
My love for Lorelei went unrequited. I never mustered up the courage to ask her out. I am not sure what I would have done if she had said "yes"...take her to the local arcade and sub-shoppe with babysitting money, I suppose. The next year, she outgrew all of her interests...plants, the John Park Homestead, Saturday Night Fever and hanging out with me. In high school she started dating a guy with a car. How was this 13-year-old pimply faced kid supposed to compete with that? Still, she remained kind, and would say "hi" to me in the hallways. My first dalliance with infatuation was over.

Listening to the Saturday Night Fever Soundtrack this week, especially the deep cuts, was a delightful blast from my past and helped me remember that romantically tinged chapter in my life. I still love this record and, now that I think about it, my time at Jack Miner Public School wasn't all that bad. Thanks, Lorelei, wherever you are.

Sunday, 5 October 2025

The 500 - #140 - Parallel Lines - Blondie

I was inspired by a podcast called The 500 hosted by New York-based comedian Josh Adam Meyers. His goal, and mine, is to explore Rolling Stone Magazine's 2012 edition of The 500 Greatest Albums of All Time.


Album: #140
Album Title: Parallel Lines
Artist: Blondie
Genre: New Wave, Power Pop, Pop Punk
Recorded: Record Plant Studios, New York City
Released: September, 1978
My age at release: 13
How familiar was I with it before this week: Quite
Is it on the 2020 list? Yes, at #146, dropping 5 spots
Song I am putting on my Spotify Playlist: One Way Or Another
The arrival of Heart of Glass, Blondie’s fourth single, hit like a seismic wave in my circle of friends during the winter of 1978. It quickly entered regular radio rotation in January, 1979, but what truly set it apart was its accompanying music video -- a groundbreaking concept at the time. Long before music videos became the dominant promotional tool of the 1980s, their appearance on late-night television felt revolutionary. Until then, our only glimpses of rock bands performing came from shows like American Bandstand (often featuring lip-synced performances), Don Kirshner’s Rock Concert, The Midnight Special, and, later, CBC’s Wolfman Jack Show.

Heart of Glass wasn’t just a song, it was a glimpse into the future of music and media. However, perhaps more importantly to my teenaged friend circle, the video prominently featured a stunning lead singer who stole our adolescent hearts.

The logo for Don Kirshner's Rock Concert which aired (1978-1981).
The opening of Blondie’s Heart of Glass music video was a snapshot of late 1970s New York City, and for a kid growing up in rural, southwestern Ontario it was mesmerizing. It was equal parts gritty, glamorous, exciting and dangerous. The opening featured a sweeping aerial shot of the city skyline, capturing the iconic towers and the urban sprawl below. The atmosphere created by the pulsing disco beat that opened the song was both electrifying and raw, reflecting the tension and creativity of a city teetering between decay and artistic renaissance.
New York Skyline - Late '70s.
In the late 1970s, New York City was a paradox; economically strained, riddled with crime, yet bursting with cultural energy. At 12 e, I was already tuned in to the news, thanks to my parents’ devotion to CBC Radio. I was aware of the city’s darker side, especially the fear sparked when the Son of Sam killings gripped The Big Apple in summer, 1977.
Nevertheless, I was equally captivated by the city’s artistic pulse. Late-night shows, especially Saturday Night Live, offered insight into a world where rock, punk, disco, and new wave collided in legendary clubs such as CBGBs, The Bitter End, and Studio 54.

When Blondie’s Heart of Glass video aired, it brought that vibrant, chaotic cityscape into my living room. The graffiti-splashed streets and neon-lit nightlife felt thrilling and a little dangerous. In retrospect, I realize it was my first invitation to a city I would fall in love with and visit many times as an adult.
Legendary Manhattan Nightclub Studio 54.
Then there was the lead singer, Deborah Harry, with her shaggy pixie-cut, platinum blonde hair, slinky, shimming dress, and disco-glossy lips. I was smitten by her beauty, cool detachment and effortless charisma, as were my friends. In the parlance of the day, "she was a fox".

Deborah (or Debbie) Harry was born Angela Trimble in Miami, Florida, on July 1, 1945. Adopted as an infant, she was raised in Hawthorn, New Jersey, only 35 kilometres from Manhattan. After attending Centenary College, she worked as a secretary, dancer and Playboy Bunny. She had also been the vocalist for a New York-based psych-folk band called The Wind In The Willows in the late sixties. With her boyfriend Christ Stein, she was also part of a glam-rock, proto-punk band called The Stilettoes.

Harry as a Playboy Bunny in the late 60s/early 70s.
In 1974, she and Stein co-founded a group they dubbed Angel and The Snake. However, that hefty moniker only lasted two shows and by October, 1974, they were Blondie, comprising Harry (vocals); Stein (guitars); Fred Smith (bass); and Billy O'Connor (drums). O'Connor was soon replaced by Clem Burke, who remained their drummer until his death last April. Their Parallel Lines record, which was Blondie’s commercial breakthrough, featured their classic line-up of Harry, Stein and Burke, joined by keyboardist Jimmy Destri; bassist Nigel Harrison; and guitarist/vocalist Frank Infante.
Blondie - preparing for the Parallel Lines cover shoot (1978).
Parallel Lines captivated more than me and my friends. It met universal acclaim from music critics and was quickly certified as a platinum seller in multiple countries, including Canada, where it sold 400,000 copies. To date, the album has surpassed 12 million sales worldwide. Heart Of Glass, the fourth of six singles from the record, was the group's first number one hit. Three additional number one songs followed over the next four years -- Call Me, from the soundtrack to American Gigolo, in April, 1980; The Tide Is High, from their fifth album, Autoamerican, in January, 1981; and Rapture, from the same record two months later.
Autoamerican album cover (1981).
Blondie’s arrival on the mainstream stage wasn’t just a musical milestone, it was a cultural shift. The group fearlessly embraced the New York music scene of the late ‘70s and early ‘80s, blending everything from rock, punk, reggae, disco and hip-hop into their genre-defying pop sound. For me, the band provided a glimpse into a world far beyond my rural Ontario surroundings and Heart Of Glass became a shimmering piece of a larger media mosaic – one that  eventually shaped my lifelong fascination with New York City,  which became my wedding venue decades later.
Me and my bride Angela on our wedding day as the sun sets  over Battery Park, Manhattan, 2006.

Monday, 22 July 2024

The 500 - #203 - Bad - Michael Jackson

I was inspired by a podcast called The 500 hosted by Los Angeles-based comedian Josh Adam Meyers. His goal, and mine, is to explore Rolling Stone Magazine's 2012 edition of The 500 Greatest Albums of All Time. 



Album: #203
Album Title: Bad
Artist: Michael Jackson
Genre: Pop, Funk, Soul, Hard Rock, R&B
Recorded: Westlake Studios, Los Angeles, California, U.S.A.
Released: August, 1987
My age at release: 22
How familiar was I with it before this week: Very
Is it on the 2020 list? Yes, at #194, moving up 10 spots
Song I am putting on my Spotify Playlist: Man In The Mirror
Four years ago, as we navigated the unpredictable Coronavirus pandemic, my wife and I discovered the Disney+ program WandaVision. The nine-part mini-series was the first television program released in the Marvel Cinematic Universe (MCU) and set after the events in the 2019 film Avengers: Endgame.
One might expect this to be typical superhero fare. After all, it featured Wanda Maximoff (aka: Scarlet Witch) and the android Vision, two characters well established in the MCU. However, it was the promotional trailer release that piqued our interest and convinced us to subscribe to the newly available Disney streaming service. This short video, shot in black and white, featured the song Twilight Time from 1950's vocal group The Platters. The vid depicted our former heroes in a situational comedy setting eerily reminiscent of I Love Lucy episodes (1951-1958).
Screen Capture for the Official Trailer to WandaVision.
Ten minutes into the first episode and we were hooked. The show was part sit-com, part mystery -- think I Love Lucy meets The Twilight Zone (1959 - 1964). We had so many questions:
  • Why are these 2020 characters living and hiding their superpowers, in the idyllic world of 1950s Westview, New Jersey?
  • Why is the show leaning on the campy and cliche television tropes from that era?
  • Why was Vision alive? Thanos had killed him in Avengers: Endgame, right?
  • Who is the mysterious person whose hand is shown in a television studio in the final credits, watching the final credits?
    Final Credit screen capture featuring a mysterious onlooker.
Our delightful bewilderment continued when the second episode featured the same characters appearing in a fictional world that had all the trappings of a ‘60s era sitcom -- clearly reminiscent of the Dick Van Dyke Show (1961-1967),...including promotional material.
WandaVision shot (left) compared with the Dick Van Dyke Show promo.
It soon became evident that WandaVision was going to be a mysterious and nostalgic trip through the decades, depicted through the tropes and cliches from situation comedies in each. Wisely, the Disney channel released the episodes weekly rather than dropping the entire series for viewers to binge watch. Consequently, there was plenty of time for online speculation and for fan predictions and theories to percolate.
Wanda's changes through the episodes/decades.
At the same time, January to March, 2021, I was teaching remotely. I had started the year with a delightful group of Grade 7 students in person. However, as our province, Ontario, entered the second wave of the pandemic, we reluctantly returned to online learning. Always on the hunt to engage students and build community, I thought about ways the WandaVision premise could connect to our learning. Then, I was struck by a plan.
  • What if each student was assigned a random decade and found a song that others might enjoy.... a "Bop"?
  • The student could then, privately, send me a presentation slide which would feature the song as an embedded YouTube video.
  • Included on the slide would be three bullet points of research -- about the song, the artist, the album or the themes in the lyrics.
  • I would present the slide (in order to keep the student identity private) and would play the song throughout the week in our virtual learning environment.
  • At the end of the week, we would use a Google Form to vote each song from the chosen decade as a Bop or Flop. The top two songs, or any song receiving 60 per cent Bop status, would remain in our class playlist.
  • We would then reveal the students who chose each song and created the accompanying slide presentation.
  • I began by sharing three songs from the ‘40s in order to provide an example to guide them.
    One of my example slides - Stardust by Artie Shaw -- it was voted a Bop.
The activity was a hit. My students were excited to have their songs shared and hear the music chosen by classmates from the ‘50s through to the 2000s. With six decades over six weeks, this turned out to be a wonderful way of bonding the class during a time of dreary isolation -- short, bleak winter days coupled with another pandemic lockdown. It also connected to multiple curriculum expectations -- visual literacy, writing, research and history.
The success of this collaborative WandaVision music project in 2021 prompted me to make it part of my regular program and, for the fourth year in a row, it has been received enthusiastically. The eclectic playlist we create throughout the unit never fails to delight me. Songs ranging from Mr. Sandman by The Chordettes (‘50s) to I'm A Believer from The Monkees (‘60s) to Earth, Wind and Fire's September (‘70s) bring diverse sounds to our work periods. With literally thousands of popular songs from which to choose, each year takes on a slightly different tone. One artist, however, has consistently made the cut every year -- The King of Pop , Michael Jackson.
The King of Pop - Michael Jackson.
One year, a student locked into ‘70s Michael, performing with his brothers, The Jackson Five, on the soft rock ballad I'll Be There. Another discovered the disco/funk audio splendor of Rock With You from 1979's Off the Wall (#68 on The 500). Another class found Jackson's work from the ‘80s with the hard rock dance track Beat It, and the title track from this week's record, Bad.
Cover for the single, Bad, from Michael Jackson
Bad, the single, exploded into the pop culture zeitgeist on August 31, 1987, when the 18-minute video premiered on a primetime CBS special called The Magic Returns: Michael Jackson. Directed by Martin Scorsese, the short film was, in part, inspired by scenes from the musical West Side Story. Shot in a Brooklyn subway station, the protagonist Darryl (portrayed by Jackson) is a young man returning to his old, tough neighbourhood after being away at a private school on a scholarship. Darryl is greeted by his former street gang, which included actor Wesley Snipes in one of his first roles. At first, the reunion is friendly, but becomes awkward when Darryl's street credibility is challenged. In an attempt to show the group that he is still "bad", Darryl considers robbing an elderly man before having second thoughts. The dance sequence that follows, featuring the song Bad, has become iconic, as has the leather outfit Jackson wore as Darryl.
A screen capture from the Scorsese directed short film, Bad.
It is, like many things from the ‘80s, a piece of pop culture history that has aged imperfectly. When we watched the video in class there were a few chuckles and a lot of questions. However, by week's end, the song was voted a Bop and became part of that year's playlist rotation.
That's the thing about Jackson, he fearlessly took risks. It was a message I deliver often in our Grade 7 classroom, "swing for the fences with your artistic endeavours".  If you are brave enough to push your creativity to new limits it is worthy of respect, even when it doesn't work out. This was not, I reminded them, dissimilar to the risk they took by picking a song during our WandaVision music challenge. They knew it might be a Flop -- and that's okay.
Admittedly, Jackson had more hits than misses in his career. In 1991, the album Bad became the second best-selling record of all time, eclipsed only by Jackson's previous record, 1982's Thriller (#20 on The 500). Bad had only had nine tracks on it, and seven of them were singles, with five songs hitting #1 on Billboard charts. The first single from the album, I Just Can't Stop Loving You, was a chart-topper in June, 1987. The final song released as a single, Liberian Girl, wasn't promoted until July, 1989 -- 25 months later. For anyone who lived through "Michaelmania", it felt like he was an constant artistic force.
Single cover for Liberian Girl - released in the U.K. in 1989.
I plan on sharing the WandaVision Music Experience with my students again in the next school year. Although pandemic lockdowns and virtual learning seem to be a strange thing of the past, the unit still builds community through the coldest and bleakest days of winter. I am always surprised by the interesting choices that students make and I am keen to see if Jackson's streak continues in 2025.




Monday, 1 July 2024

The 500 - #206 - Dirty Mind - Prince

I was inspired by a podcast called The 500 hosted by Los Angeles-based comedian Josh Adam Meyers. His goal, and mine, is to explore Rolling Stone Magazine's 2012 edition of The 500 Greatest Albums of All Time. 



Album: #206
Album Title: Dirty Mind
Artist: Prince
Genre: Funk, Post Disco, Pop, Rock, R&B
Recorded: Prince's Basement Studio near Lake Minnetonka, Minnesota, U.S.A.
Released: October, 1980
My age at release: 15
How familiar was I with it before this week: One song
Is it on the 2020 list? Yes, at #326, dropping 120 spots
Song I am putting on my Spotify Playlist: When You Were Mine
Every so often while perusing social media I will see a post bemoaning the state of modern music. These digital missives, typically generated by people of my vintage (Generation X) will state boldly that "there is no good music these days".
a
An example of a social media meme bemoaning the state of popular
music today.
Worse still, they will critique a current pop star as banal or formulaic by making a comparison to a legendary performer from their youth. Current chart toppers, including Post Malone, Billie Eilish, Drake, and The Weeknd, seem to be the target of much of this animus. However, it is mega-star Taylor Swift who seems to bear the brunt of the vitriol, often from people who can't name three of her songs or recognize her talent, let alone her well documented history of generosity, philanthropy and kindness
A common complaint is that she only writes songs about her break-ups. Given that she has been in the public eye for more than 15 years and many of her former beaus are celebrities, their stories easily become the stuff of tabloid fodder. And sure, she has written some songs about heartache and loss, but aren’t writers always told to write about what they know?

The same angry 50-somethings who lambaste Swift simultaneously glorify bands from their generation who committed the same "offence". To name a few, nearly every track on Led Zeppelin's debut record (#29 on The 500) is about losing love -- Good Times, Bad Times, Babe I'm Going to Leave You, You Shook Me, Dazed and Confused, Communication Breakdown, and I Can't Quit You Baby.

Perhaps more of these memes should be posted by Gen X 
social media users.
In my role as a middle school teacher, my students tipped me to Swift's talent many years ago. In 2011, a Grade 8 girl named Lexi played the song Mean for our class as part of her presentation on metaphoric language and I was duly impressed -- by both the presentation and the song. The central tenet of Mean encourages proudly and bravely navigating a world rife with critics and bullies. Since 2010, I have used it annually as part of my Health unit and our school's anti-bullying campaign. It's terrifically catchy and continues to be a hit with adolescents with each passing year. It also uses similes, metaphors and idioms that are perfect for young minds to process and understand.
In a round-about way, the comparisons bring me to Dirty Mind, the third studio release from Minnesota-born superstar Prince. Hitting shelves in 1980, the album features a fusion of genres, including new wave, rock, disco, funk and R&B. It also contains sexually explicit lyrical themes, highlighting Prince's fascination with open relationships, lust, romance and gender-bending androgyny. Fans of Prince will easily recognize how this record laid the groundwork for the music on his follow-up releases throughout the 1980s, notably three that are on The 500 list -- 1999 (at #163), Purple Rain (#76), and Sign O' The Times (#93).
Prince in 1980.
Over the years, I became a Prince fan. However, in my youth, much like the Gen Xers who angrily rage-post about Taylor Swift, I made judgments about him without truly appreciating his talent and genius. I did not hear the Dirty Mind record in 1980 and, until discovering it on The 500 list, had never listened to it. I was surprised to recognize When You Were Mine, which I knew as a Cyndi Lauper song, appearing on her 1983 album She's So Unusual (#487).
Certainly, I would not have liked this Prince record when it was released four decades ago. In my youngish years, I was stuck in my ways. Since then, my understanding of life's rich tapestry and appreciation of music in its many varied forms has grown exponentially. Looking back, I suspect there was a little homophobia wrapped into my disdain for an artist like Prince. His comfort with his sexuality and his freedom to embrace his feminine side was not something 15-year-old me was ready to accept. Ironically, Prince  became a legendary lady-killer who dated beautiful celebrities, many of whom my friends and I held a torch for – Kim Basinger, Madonna, Sheila E., Carmen Electra, Vanity and Sherilyn Fenn.
Prince with some of his romantic partners in the 80s.
Much like Taylor Swift, these liaisons became material for his lyrics and music. However, unlike Swift, he is not criticized for his reputation as a Lothario nor his penchant for lyrical inspiration following these romantic trysts. I suspect that is a commentary on  society's penchant for misogyny. The truism remains that a man who has many partners is considered virile and called a stud. By contrast, a woman who plays the field is regarded as "fallen" and worse – saddled with horrible labels including whore, slut, harlot and tramp. It is among the many double-standards women, including Swift, must learn to navigate.
Forty-three years after its release, I listened to Dirty Mind with a more mature perspective on the world. The sound is a bit dated and the sexual themes excessive. However, that is a product of my age as this isn't a record written for a man nearing 60. Prince was writing pop music and it was meant for young people at a given time. So, too, is the music of Taylor Swift in the 2010s. Angry Gen Xers fail to understand they don't have to like it. Her music isn't being written for them. So get over it, stop posting angry memes and put on another Zeppelin record.