BRIDGEPORT — In early 1979, radio listeners in Chicago knew Steve Dahl as a young punk who relentlessly poked fun at disco for the sake of saving rock ‘n’ roll.
Music’s marquee rock bands had started cutting disco records. Fans of the rock genre felt abandoned.
“You use music to define yourself in your twenties,” Dahl said in an interview. “There was a real concern on the part of kids that were into rock.”
On July 12, 1979, Dahl had a chance to bring those abandoned fans together for one of the most controversial music events to ever unfold on the South Side: Disco Demolition Night.
“It all erupted at Comiskey Park that night," Dahl said.
Last month, Curbside Splendor published a new book titled Disco Demolition: The Night Disco Died. Author Dave Hoekstra, a WGN radio weekend host and former longtime Sun-Times writer, conducted more than 30 interviews with record store owners, sports figures and music icons to tell the story of that crazy night. Legendary photographer Paul Natkin contributed historic snap shots to accompany Hoeksta's words.
Dahl wrote the introduction, where he elegantly sums up where the minds of his generation had been stewing the night disco records piled in the outfield at Old Comiskey went KABOOM!
“We were letting off a little steam. We were relaxing in our corduroy jeans and T-shirts. We were not quite ready to dress for success or give up our clattering soundtrack for disco beats,” Dahl wrote. “I never wanted to mount or lead a social movement. I wanted to entertain and to provide a release for kids who had too little money and too much awkwardness for the dance world. I wanted to say, 'The music you revere is great, and you are okay just as you are.' ”
That’s how the 61-year-old radio legend views that night years after the smoke cleared from the stadium.
As a 24-year-old kid coming off a bust of a year, raising a young family far from home in an uncertain and unforgiving industry with no guarantee of a steady paycheck, Dahl was simply seizing an opportunity to get his name out there.
Dahl had doubts the entire time leading up to Disco Demolition Night, when admission to see a Sox double-header against the Detroit Tigers was 98 cents, an attempt by Sox bosses to boost attendance.
“I didn’t want to do it,” Dahl said. “There was no way I was going to draw enough people to make it look like a successful event.”
To Dahl’s surprise, more than 50,000 people slowly trickled into the stands.
During the demolition of disco records, fans stormed the field, forcing police to clear the ballpark. For the first time in Major League Baseball history, the second game of a double-header had to be canceled.
At the end of the mayhem, Dahl felt a sense of accomplishment.
“On the one hand, it was the first time I saw any sort of citywide proof that I was catching on here,” Dahl said. “I’d done OK… It was tangible proof that we were popular and we were doing something right.”
Dread soon replaced his gratitude. Dahl’s boss at WLUP, Hawaiian Congressman Cecil Heftel, “freaked out.”
Dahl remembers his marching orders: “I don’t want you to talk about this tomorrow.”
“I was up all night trying to figure out what to do the next day. I didn’t have any sort of exalted or celebratory night,” Dahl said. “I just thought, ‘I’m gonna get f------ fired over this. Look at all this success I’ve had, and I’m going to get fired.’”
When Dahl got to work the next day on the 37th floor of the John Hancock Center, local TV stations and networks were already there with cameras.
“I said, ‘F--- it,’” Dahl said. “I’m going to do what I think is right, and I’m going to talk about it.”
The next few weeks were rough. Many of the station’s national advertisers pulled their contracts, viewing the Disco Demolition display as nothing but anarchy.
“It took several weeks for things to level off and the ship to sort of right itself,” Dahl said.
Looking back, Dahl remembers Disco Demolition Night as the wildest night of his career — even if it was the first chapter of a long journey in radio.
“Honestly, most of the time I don’t think of myself as that guy,” Dahl said. “That was one night in ’79.”
For more neighborhood news, listen to DNAinfo Radio here:
