"Music Is My Way of Life!" Part 2: Club Life

Hi folks! Will here with the second installment of how music has been such a big part of my life.

In this blog I hope to cover "club life." It seems that I was around at just the right time in the late 60s, 70s and 80s in New York and San Francisco to reap some of the benefits of this new and fertile landscape. To start, I think it might be a good idea to give some definition to this term.

As a young, curious and definitely active young gay man, I started to discover local gay life in my Jersey Shore area. It mostly centered around gay bars. Of course, they were not advertised as such... you needed a sponsor - so to speak - to get in. Full of audacity and not yet having one of these sponsors, I tried to pull off being old enough (21 y.o.) in my look and comportment. Most of the time it worked, unless I got an unfriendly doorman or one that wanted to me to put out in order to get in! Anyway, aside from the late 60s politics of my underage bar hopping, I did gain access and learned to love the feel of my new community and their musical gathering places.

The boardwalk of Asbury Park - always very cruisy after the bars shut!

The late 60s were sort of the pre-club era. They were simple pick up places. Their music even predated disc jockeys. Rockola, Seeburg and Wurlitzer jukeboxes provided the musical fare. Overall, the sound was good enough. But, it lacked the continuity to create any kind of musical atmosphere. That was to change with the advent of private clubs.

The pre-DJ era.

The early 70s ushered in a whole new concept in "clubbing" with regularly occurring private parties that required an invitation or membership to get in. The very first of these parties that I regularly attended was held at the Gay Activist Alliance Hall - aka - "The Fire House" on Wooster St. in lower Manhattan. There I saw tons of very hot men dancing shirtless to music the likes of which I had never heard before.

The Fire House's bleak exterior betrays the mayhem within.

First off, there was no jukebox. There was a very special man sitting in a cordoned off area on the floor toggling between two RCA 45 RPM record players... nonstop! Between lustful dances with many handsome men, I would go to an area just above the "DJ" and watch him create his magic. Barry Letra was this magic man. I would meet him decades later in San Francisco as Co-Founder of Graebar Sound - a legendary name in the club sound reinforcement industry.

The next of these early experiences I had with private clubs was The Loft. This was truly a private party, unlike the Firehouse. A member, who I had been dating, took me there one very cold Saturday night in January 1972. At that time, I was a flight attendant for Eastern Airlines based in San Juan, P.R. and had come up to New York seemingly for just a weekend date. But, my friend said that we were all going to a very special dance party that night. I did not know what we were in for, as I was not living in the city at that time.

We all piled into his early 60s Ford Falcon, nicknamed The Club Car, and barreled down from Chelsea to the lower Manhattan King Street address. Upon arrival, we lumbered up an endless staircase to where the party was already beginning to take off. This staircase acted as a transition point from the "reality" of busy metropolitan streets, to a totally other-worldly party event.

I have two vivid musical memories from that first visit to the Loft. Number one happened going up that long staircase. Midway up those steps and coming on to a rather potent hit of blotter acid, I could feel the powerful thumping bass and hear the lilting refrains of "Cherchez la Femme," a song that was totally new to me and was destined to become a nationwide hit. Reaching the landing at the top of the stairs reminded me of when Dorothy swung open the door of her recently crashed house in Oz. Technicolor! During that night, I was exposed to several other songs that went on to become club standards. Hearing music like this well before its release to the general public was another cherished benefit of private club parties.

The godfather of club life at work.

David Mancuso owned this loft and carefully crafted the music we heard. His use of Mark Levinson amplifiers and Klipsch speakers brought a notable brilliance to the whole room. The second profound memory was his use of a technique that night that really brought the floor to a frenzy. In this particular case, he took the song "TSOP" (The Sound of Philly) and "sprinkled" it over several popular tunes during the night as sort of a teaser. THEN, when he finally dropped that song in its entirety, the floor went nuts. That was 54 years ago... and it is still an impactful musical memory.

The Loft dancefloor and its legendary Klipsch speakers.

Before I get too distracted by the music... there were the men! All shirtless and soaking wet from nonstop dancing (and the various party favors they consumed! LOL). But, what was great about this club was that it was a trendsetter. It was not a gay club - it was very co-ed, urban and laissez-faire. You never quite knew who you were going to be dancing with... it was one big party!

After The Loft, things really started cooking all over Manhattan in terms of these private clubs. Although the list was long, two clubs of mention were the Tenth Floor and, of course, Flamingo!

Legendary "discaire" Ray Yates of the Tenth Floor.

The Tenth Floor was located in Manhattan's Chelsea section on 25th St., sort of tucked away from the sweeping Manhattan avenues. You took a freight elevator to the tenth floor... hence the name. Like The Loft's staircase, when you entered the Tenth Floor's elevator, you knew that you were being whisked to another reality! Upon arriving at floor ten, the freight doors opened onto a floor bedecked with potted palms, dark green art deco leather armchairs and a fabulous hardwood dancefloor. Coming out of that elevator was like entering a Hollywood set! Ray Yates was at the turntables and created a night of lush, sophisticated and "underground" music - again - not yet released to the general public.

The Flamingo in lower Manhattan. Once again, these bleak exteriors sure were a good disguise.

The Flamingo dance hall, where everyone came to worship.

The legendary club called "Flamingo" really etched its name into the "dance halls of fame." Known for being the "wintering ground" for the Fire Island 500, the art, music and bedazzling array of handsome men made you think that perhaps you died and went to heaven! Upon entering this massive club, you went through a gallery that showed the artistic work of the very members dancing away in the adjoining hall. Also, a mark of distinction were the tables of delicious fruits and refreshments lining that gallery area. Many, many famous DJs graced the turntables of this club... two of whom I got to work with later on in San Francisco - Vincent Carleo and Howard Merritt. Fate is such a strange thing!

You know, I thought this would have been the second and final part of the story. Truth is, I have only laid the groundwork for another part of this personal saga. It is here where I take all of my impressions and inspirations from these musical venues and climb behind the "wheels of steel" myself.

My current wheels of steel.

I can hardly wait to share this chapter with you! Will.

Bio of Will Seagers:

Will Seagers (also credited as Matt Harper), within his multifaceted careers and participation in numerous gay communities across the country in the '70s and '80s and beyond, worked as a print model, film performer, and DJ, just to name a few. He made iconic appearances in releases from Falcon, Hand in Hand, Joe Gage, Target (Bullet), J. Brian, Steve Scott, and more, including in lead roles in major classics like Gage's L.A. Tool & Die (1979) and Scott's Wanted (1980). He brought strong screen presence and exceptional acting to his roles and was scene partners with many fellow legends of classic porn.

Will Seagers, present day

You can read Will Seagers' previous blogs for Bijou here: