GOES DISCO CRAZY

Rip It Up, Issue 15, 1 September 1978, Page 11

GOES DISCO CRAZY

Francis Stark

)ouble or Nothing

Everybody has a secret vice or at least an inclination towards one and the time has come for me to own up to mine. For the highest of motives, I assure' you I like the Double M Disco in the basement of the DB Tavern. I only go to watch, though I admit I have never gone so far as to take notes. I suspect that it isn’t typical of discos generally the age limit and the alcohol alone probably take care of that. Still it fascinates me. At the Double M, the real object doesn’t seem to be to dance instead the people are there to practice social mobility. All is very rigidly arranged in a hierachy of chic radiating out in concentric rings from the dance floor. At the heart of the crowd are those who look like they are waiting for Central Casting to call them up for their role in Is It Wednesday Yet? These people do dance, but only to those songs they know well enough to be able to execute faultless routines. Generally they prefer to be still-life studies the classy version of a wall-flower.

In the next rank are those who probably did come to dance, but who find occasional trouble organising themselves into sufficiently homogenous mobs to tackle the Hustle. I suspect these people can actually dance better than the first group but they do it much too indiscriminately to be of the remotest interest to Central Casting. The third ring contains almost only males. These are the predators of the disco world. Their ceaseless trek from table to table asking the same question and getting the same answer never seems to tire them, although I suspect that it is from their ranks that the fourth row is recruited. These fringe attendee whose territory, significantly enough, also includes the bar seem to have missed their turning at the public bar. They are here to drink and sleep, and to see them in action is enough to discredit Brahms lullaby in favour of "Stayin’ Alive". But the real attraction is not in the crowd interesting though they may be nor is it the music, which is pretty standard fare. The real focal point, and the delight of the third row, are the go-go girls. i Up at the front, in a little cage straight out of Blow-Up, two underdressed, but not underfed, young women thrash violently against the bars in ten-minute shifts. Their energy is remarkable, and their popularity unquestionable. At less regular intervals a young man enters the cage. He labours under a number of disadvantages. He is svelte. He can dance. He is fully-clothed. Still, I think I can say that there is something for everybody at the Double M Disco.