Burn baby, burn

It was a particularly odd mix including a Phish studio album, a comedy album, a box set, a folk album, the new Flecktones album and a disco classic.

Yes, I bought a copy of the soundtrack to Saturday Night Fever, which was originally released when I was 10 or so. I never owned it on vinyl; this was a point of youthful pride for me. A few years later, when the disco craze was near its peak, I had a bit of an incident at school; it was one of the few "incidents" in my career as a schoolchild.

This was the last day of school in 1979. I wore jeans and a baseball-style t-shirt that read Disco Sucks! in rainbow glitter letters. The assistant principal called me into his office and I'll never forget the exchange

"Young lady, I think you know what the offensive word on that shirt is."
"Yeah. Disco."

Busted. He sent me home because I refused to put masking tape over "sucks." I'm sure he really sent me home because I mouthed off and rolled my eyes.

So, it is with some appreciation of this irony that I am enjoying listening to "Night Fever" and "A Fifth of Beethoven." And listening, for the first time in my life, I wish I'd been born a little earlier. Looking back through a misty lens that doesn't pick up things like drug busts and eating disorders, I almost wish I'd been old enough to experience the late 70s first hand: that little bit of decadent freedom before cocaine was addictive and sex could kill you.

It's just that I think the lifestyle might have suited my attitude that new things are worth trying; that experience is worth whatever it costs you. I'm not promoting indiscriminate sex and drug use, I'm just saying that AIDS and the Reagan years swung us all awfully far to the right. I guess I'm wondering when we'll get nostalgic for freedom.

before - after