Spirit Of '76

 I have often held that it was in October of 1976 that American pop culture reached its lowest point. It was during this time period that Disco Duck reached the top of the Billboard Chart. I do not blame the "artist," Rick Dees, for unleashing this bit of musical chicanery upon an unsuspecting public. I do not blame that unsuspecting public for buying what Mister Dees had to sell. I can only blame the society that we had created at this point in history for providing this measuring stick for the depths of our national sickness. 

1976 aside from being celebrated as our county's bicentennial, featured much of the music that would eventually be considered by NASA to be sent into outer space. Not to subject alien civilizations to it, but rather simply to get it off our planet. I'm talking about Elton John and Kiki Dee singing, "Don't Go Breakin' My Heart." We also have Wild Cherry to blame for "Play That Funky Music." Oh, and how about former Beatle Paul McCartney bludgeoning us with "Silly Love Songs?" Again, I don't feel that it is completely fair to blame Messrs. John, Cherry and McCartney for the sugary pabulum they foisted on us during this time. It was this moment when we simply ran dry as a culture. K.C. and the Sunshine Band have this reduced attention to detail to thank for their career. TV theme songs like SWAT and Welcome Back Kotter were charting. All you needed to do was repeat the words boogie, bootie, dancing, or baby over a clap track and you had yourself a hit. 

And into this vortex dropped Dees' Disco Duck. Why wouldn't it sell in this era of lowered expectations? Not even his backing group, "His Cast of Idiots" were enough to send a message to a zoned-out public: This is a novelty record. It is created in much the same manner that Beethoven, Copeland, and Mozart generated their oeuvre. It was recorded with many of the same techniques that brought us Sergeant Pepper, Pet Sounds, and Born To Run. Except this was done by a Memphis disc jockey who was looking to cash in on the clever idea he had, and it even got included in a scene from Saturday Night Fever. But it should never be forgotten that this record was created as a satirical nose-thumb to the music industry that had been given permission to collapse on itself. 

Those were dark times indeed. Right up there with the announcement this summer of "Unfrosted: The Pop-Tart Story," written, directed and starring Jerry Seinfeld. I fully expect this to do what the Emoji Movie couldn't: Make us pine for 1976.