The Village People: Staying Alive at the Commodore

Contrary to popular misconception, Disco didn’t die. It just rid itself of some of its glittered excess (platform shoes, mirror balls, and Donna Summer), dimmed the lights and changed its name to “house music.”

Which is why, I presume, CITR 101.9FM, UBC’s alternative radio station, co-sponsored The Village People at the Commodore Ballroom on August 28 and 29.

It wasn’t as diverse a crowd as one might expect. There were the cowboys, construction workers, and bikers “shaking their booty.” And there were even a few geriatric John Travolta’s trying to “stay alive.” But mostly, it was an alternative crowd, many of whom were first introduced to Disco when they were eight or nine, “shake, shake, shaking” to KC and the Sunshine band in the privacy of their bedrooms.

So, what was the attraction? The Commodore is always a fabulous night out – classic surroundings, great sound, and the best acts. And the Village People didn’t disappoint. They were surprisingly tight and the harmonizing would have done the Nylons proud. And no, they weren’t lipsynching – the past 17 years has been time well spent for the band. Yet, showmanship aside, the Village People could best be described as a novelty act. What was the attraction?

Nostalgia perhaps? Disco was a seventies phenomenon. It was a rejection of the sixties. Dressing down and dropping out were no longer in vogue. Disco still embraced “sex, drugs, and music” but without the politics. Donna Summer’s 20-minute orgasm notwithstanding, disco bands weren’t Satanists, poets, or political visionaries. They were over-produced commodities – unapologetic Milli Vanilli’s. And for many critics, disco’s attraction – even in the seventies – was impossible to define. It was dismissed as another K-Tel marketing gimmick and pronounced dead on arrival.

So why did CITR sponsor The Village People and why did the mass of black attend? Was this some profound parody of mainstream music? Or was it simply a way to make a buck?

None of the above.

It was fun, dammit. That was the attraction. Disco was, and is, quite simply fun.

Disco never took itself too seriously, never pretended to be anything more than it was. In spite of the smoke and mirrors, disco didn’t try to con you. You didn’t have to think about the lyrics (there weren’t any) or worry about political correctness. Does anyone care if ‘booty’ has sexist connotations? Probably not, because in spite of its unrepentant sexuality, Disco had an innocence to it. And that was the attraction for this nineteen-something audience. The Village People harkened back to a simpler time before AIDS, final exams, and Fatal Attraction. For a couple of hours, the black faded and we were children in our bedrooms once again.