by RAF KATIGBAK

Love it or lump it, the fact remains that disco, the genre once gleefully reviled, is now reclaiming its rightful place as the forerunner of house and techno, the cradle of modern DJ culture and the catalyst for the development of contemporary club sound systems. But talking disco history without mentioning Studio 54 is like imagining the Village People without that Indian dude (he was half Puerto Rican, by the way), perhaps because no other club captured the glamour, glitz and coke-fuelled superficiality and excess that defined, and eventually spelled the demise of, the genre.

But there’s more to disco than sequins, divas and Bolivian marching powder, and Brooklyn-born Nicky Siano knows that. Siano was a staple of the infamous uptown Manhattan club, where he DJed on weeknights. Downtown on weekends, however, from 1972 to 1977, Siano rocked his own custom loft space into the dance-music history books, a space so focused on the music, and overflowing with positive creative energy and artistic expression, that it could only have one name: the Gallery.

The Mirror recently met up with Siano in a quiet cafe in Brooklyn to talk about disco’s past, present, and future.

Mirror: I loved your Soul Jazz compilation [Nicky Siano’s The Gallery]. Why do you think there’s been such a renewed interest in disco?

Nicky Siano: People go back to disco because they’re looking for magic. There’s no magic on most records these days, because they’re all recorded under circumstances that don’t allow magic to occur. One, they’re not using enough musicians, and two, everyone’s using a drum machine, which doesn’t allow musicians to interact and get a vibe going. How are you going to create magic when magic happens because of interactions between people? It doesn’t happen alone, it’s not an isolated incident. It happens in a room, with many people together. So you’ve got to create circumstances for that to occur.

M: From what I’ve read, it sounds like you built the Gallery with that idea—to create the perfect circumstances for magic. The DJ had full control of everything, from the sound and lights, to the fans and even the air conditioning.

NS: At the time, there were two types of clubs. One was an experience—the Loft which was a person’s house, there was private membership, and it was very intimate. Then you had a public bar with speakers in it. There was no middle ground. No one built a space that was personal and intimate and just for dancing, not for drinking. And that’s what I did. The difference today is that the creative people don’t control the situation. It’s all bean counters. There’s no creative energy. People will spend millions on the bar decor, but the sound, which is why people come, is an afterthought.

Horns and tweeters

M: Has good sound always been important to you?

NS: Always. I’m always trying to get the best conditions possible. David [Mancuso, of the Loft] had created these tweeter arrays, and worked with a sound guy, Alex Rosner. Rosner thought he was crazy and said it wouldn’t work, and of course it did. So I had these tweeters and I thought there was not enough low end, so I had him build me the first bass horns that were ever built. Then I realized that if I can control the tweeters and bass horns separately from the speakers, I can really manipulate the sound. And I called him up and told him what I wanted to do. He said, okay, what you want is a crossover, so he built me the first crossover that was ever built.

M: You pretty much invented the DJ technique that’s everywhere now—dramatically cutting out and then dropping the bass back at a crescendo. Have you picked up some new tricks from modern DJs?

NS: Going out is torture for me. First of all, if you’re going to play one beat all night long, from 126 to 128 BPM, I’m gonna be bored out of my mind after half an hour. Right there, you’re talking 90 per cent of clubs. That for me is torture. It’s so seamless you can’t tell when one song’s ending and one’s beginning. It’s like putting on one long record the whole fucking night! How could that be a good experience? How? Who in their right mind thinks that would be fun?

M: Well, I suppose that’s where the drugs come in.

NS: Yes, well, that’s where it’s all screwed up. Because you have drugs that make something that’s not good, good. We had drugs that made something that was good, really good.

With Robert Ouimet and Michel Simard at Stereo on Friday, June 23, 2 a.m., $35, and at Buona Notte on Sunday, June 25, 10 p.m., free (call 514-848-0644 for reservations)

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