Wax Poetics - Issue 59

Larry was bigger than life,

broke new ground,” Scotti says. “His ability was knowing exactly what song to play at what time in the evening. There could be ten great DJs who all had the same records, but Larry could change between songs so that you couldn’t even hear the transitions. Sometimes, he’d mix back and forth. He was like a really great entertainer—he knew how to read the dance floor so that it never went cold.” Some of the biggest anthems Scotti recalls from the era were Love Unlimited Orchestra “Love’s Theme” and Donna Summer’s “Love to Love You, Baby.” Despite Larry’s knack at the turntables, sometimes his spontaneity got the best of him. “When Larry was a little more clearheaded, he was the next generation of DJs,” says Casey.“But without warning, he’d take a few hits of ethyl chloride and head to a back room and leave Knuckles alone in the booth to fend for himself.” Frankie had begun playing at the era’s most prominent Black disco club, Better Days, and was soon taking over for Levan at the Tubs several nights a week. “It came easier to Larry, but Frankie was much more focused,” says Don Scotti. Casey says that “the talent of Larry Levan was captured by Frankie Knuckles; he got the idea of how it works, how to be a good disc jockey.” Some of Frankie’s favorite songs from the era were “Koke” by Tribe; “City, Country, City” by War;“(Don’t Worry) If There’s a Hell Below, We’re All Gonna Go” by Curtis Mayfield; “Blood Donors Needed” by David Ruffin; and “Mighty Love” by the Spinners. By the end of 1974, Larry Levan had outgrown the Continental Baths. “Larry wanted to go further at the Continental, but the sound system wasn’t designed for where he wanted to go with music,” says Casey. Disco’s premier sound engineer Richard Long opened a loft space called SoHo Place and invited Levan to be the resident. He accepted, leaving his regular gig at the Tubs to Frankie. The SoHo Place was not open long. Shortly thereafter, Levan played at a club called Reade Street, and then found his permanent home at the Paradise Garage. The Garage would go on to become one of the most legendary clubs in disco history thanks to Levan’s otherworldly control of the crowd. Frankie continued to play at the Continental, but the bathhouse was

becoming a shadow of its former self. The cleanliness and quality control that Steve Ostrow once prided himself on were things of the past. “I couldn’t help noticing the paint peeling from the walls, the ceiling pipes leaking, and the dank smell everywhere,” Ostrow wrote in his book. 10 Debt was looming, and bills were often paid by selling off assets like paintings or the massive fish tank. A decision to allow women into the club had polarized much of the original gay crowd, who were now exploring other new bathhouses. And as more and more discos opened, what once was a revolutionary sound system was now antiquated. “The sound system at the Baths [at that time] wouldn’t work in the lobby of the Paradise Garage,” says Casey, “let alone the main room.” In 1976, the Continental Baths closed its doors for good. Steve Ostrow relocated to Montreal and opened the short-lived Continental Sauna with help from Don Scotti. After its closing, Scotti pursued a career in film, and Ostrow followed through on his dreams of singing opera. Bob Casey continued working as a soundman but left the world of disco for larger gigs like running the sound for the pope at Yankee Stadium. Knuckles would soon move to Chicago for a residency at the Warehouse, a club whose name became synonymous with a new style of disco music simply called “house.” He would go on to champion the new style through production work and worldwide DJ gigs. He died in March at age fifty-nine from diabetes complications. Levan played at the Paradise Garage until its closing in 1987, while branching out into remixing and production with the group NYC Peech Boys. He died of AIDS in 1992. Although today it’s remembered mainly as a footnote in New York City’s gay liberation movement, the Continental Baths can be seen as an encapsulation of the entire disco era. Musical genres evolved to suit dancers whose once-taboo concepts of sexuality spread to the mainstream, technological adaptations encouraged DJs to push their art form further, and just when it seemed like the good times would never end, the venue shuttered. Much like the disco era, the key figures of the Continental Baths will always be remembered for their ability to keep the crowd dancing. .

and Frankie was like a sponge soaking up that energy from Larry. Frankie was nice in capital letters. Larry was more caustic, more of a smash queen . - BOB CASEY

Notes 1. Steve Ostrow, Live at the Continental: The Inside Story of the World-Famous Continental Baths (Bloomington: Xlibris, 2007). 2. Ibid. 3. Steven Gaines, “The Building of the Upper West Side,” New York , May 16, 2005. 4. Ibid. 5. Continental , documentary directed by Malcolm Ingram, USA: Blowhard Films, 2013. 6. Peter Shapiro, Turn the Beat Around: The Secret History of Disco (New York: Faber and Faber, 2005). 7. Tim Lawrence, Love Saves the Day: A History of American Dance Music Culture, 1970–1979 (Durham: Duke University Press, 2004). 8. Continental , Ingram.

9. Lawrence, Love Saves the Day . 10. Ostrow, Live at the Continental .

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