"One day in Berlin, Eno came running in and said, 'I have heard the sound of the future!' . . . he puts on I Feel Love, by Donna Summer. He said, 'This is it . . . look no further. This single is going to change the sound of club music for the next fifteen years.' Which was more or less, right."
Still trying to process the passing of Donna Summer, who provided the soundtrack to endless childhood lip-synching routines, awkward Bar Mitzvah slow-dances, and teenage pre-rave warm-up parties (we always listened to Sunset People on the way to map points). It was to Last Dance that I got drunk for the first time at age 10, hiding under a table drinking champagne at my aunt's wedding (marking the end of my career as flower girl). In jazz class at age 13, we passionately rehearsed a Bad Girls routine, pretending we were hookers (Appropriate? No . . . Educational? Of course).
I first discovered the magical princess of the night when my dad brought home the die-cut gatefold of 1978's Live and More, resulting in hours of staring at Donna's rainbow sparkle gown on the back cover. She became an obsession, and for many years the poster from On the Radio, was pinned to my Marimekko castle wallpaper (see the shot below, and take note of the cartoon heels!)
Her Moroder collabs are some of the sexiest and most influential moments to ever occur in modern music. I'm regretting never having made an effort to hear her otherworldly voice live. Here's hoping she'll have a gig when we arrive at the never-ending disco in the sky.
Recommended viewings in honor of Donna . . . Thank God it's Friday (1978) and Foxes (1980). Recommended Summer reading . . . writer Jon Savage and DJ Ewan Pearson on the catalytic power of I Feel Love.
And in other sad disco news . . . adieu to Robin Gibb. Looks like God really loves to Hustle.