Ever wonder where disco went when it died? If you guessed Barry Gibb’s beard, you were close. The 1970’s provided us with a handful of highlights from a decade ridden with polyester pant -suits and what I like to call “the white man afro.” While disco itself may have been gawked at, the music scene was littered with something a little more soulful: funk.
Having always thought I was born about 20 years too late, I had always wondered what it would have been like to be in my twenties in the 70’s. With my village people mustache and leisure suit, I would have tore that dance floor a new one. About a year ago, I came to find this little venue in Echo Park that was advertised as “L.A’s only Funk and Soul Dance Club.” On Saturday nights, the supposed small gig venue becomes full-on Soul Train. To say I was intrigued was an understatement; I couldn’t get my all white suit on fast enough.
This past weekend I treated myself a visit to my favorite little disco, complete with James Brown and cheap beer. Somewhere between the 2 disco balls and the crowded dance floor, I found myself feeling as though my time machine had worked. But perhaps I had gotten the best of what the decade had to offer: Funky horns and deep baselines; the electric slide and my disco pointing finger.
Maybe I live in the past, or perhaps I just have an affinity for mustaches, but the 70’s represented a shift in culture and how we approach it. As a twentysomething circa “now,” we are still finding new ways to embrace the culture around us; mustaches and all.
-Stan Salas, Customer Service Connoisseur and Contributing Blogger