About This Time 50 Years Ago… It’s The Hits Of June-ish 1975!

The Hottest Hit On The Planet:

“toot-t-toot t-t-t-too-too, toot-t-toot t-t-t-too-too, toot-t-toot t-t-t-too-too”… who doesn’t like the sound of a tootlin’ piccolo solo early in the morning? (Well, Tom Breihan, obviously.)

Picking up lessons from both blaxploitation soundtracks and Barry White – although neither of those sources of inspiration were particularly prone to piccolos:

Other than a bunch of whispered “do it”s, “Do The Hustle!” is all the makers of “The Hustle” have to say. Towards the end, they start intoning “Do The Hustle!!!” with such urgency – whilst the trumpets play triumphantly like the “Rocky” theme song – they almost manage to sell the idea that doing The Hustle is the answer to all your woes.

Was Van McCoy telling the truth? Probably not. After all, it was a hustle.

Still, it couldn’t hurt to try. Which brings us to our next question:

A: – There were multiple Hustles.

There was, for starters, the ‘East Coast Hustle’ and the ‘West Coast Hustle. By 1977 there were said to be 20 different regional variations of The Hustle!

• There was a Chicago Hustle and a New York Hustle.
• There was a Swing Hustle and a Disco Swing, which appears to have also been a hustle.
• There was a Latin Hustle.
• There was a Rope Hustle.
• There was a Street Hustle. The video up top features at least two – and probably more – different dances that could not possibly be the same dance; or even come from the same root-dance (if that’s a word). Yet they are both – I presume – versions of The Hustle.

And also:

B: – “The Hustle” itself doesn’t provide a single clue, regarding how to do “The Hustle.”  

Now, I realize that dance craze songs were often frustratingly vague.

“The Hustle” doesn’t even give you that! It just repeatedly urges you to “Do It… Do It… Do The Hustle! toot-t-toot t-t-t-too-too, toot-t-toot t-t-t-too-too, Do The Hustle!”

There are many how-to videos on YouTube on how to do The Hustle, but I’m going to go with this one.

If only because it looks as though it may have come from the 70s (it didn’t, but it’s one of the oldest original clips on YouTube, so close enough)

That, at least, is how The Hustle was danced when it hit the mainstream.

In the beginning, however:

The Hustle began with a Puerto Rican motorcycle gang called the Imperial Bachelors. From South Bronx.

The Imperial Bachelors were a sub-division of the Bachelors All City Street Gang, along with the Supreme Bachelors, TNT Bachelors and the Secret Bachelors (shhh, don’t tell anyone).

Also, did they call it “The Hustle” in order to make it sound tougher, to sound like something that a South Bronx motorcycle gang might spend their days doing anyway?

I have no answer to that last question, but in relation to the first, there has been a book written about it: The Dancing Gangsters of the South Bronx. Which tells, according to the Google Books spiel,…

“the coming-of-age story of a young man and his friends during the worst days in the history of the South Bronx. A gang leader and his crew transform their neighborhood and create peace through the power and beauty of music and dance.”

The author of The Dancing Gangsters of the South Bronx, Willie Estrada, believes that the South Bronx hustle scene should be spoken of in the same hushed tones as the South Bronx hip-hop street party scene of a few years later, as opposed to barely being talked about at all.

So he made one himself.

Because The Hustle saved his life.

Willie Estrada was a gang leader.

Not only that, he was the gang leader whose crew transformed their neighbourhood and created peace through the power and beauty of music and dance!

So I guess Willie knows what he’s talking about when he says “some people claim that (The Hustle) came from Brooklyn or from Queens… no baby, it came from right here in South Bronx.”

If you know your hip-hop history, this kind of debate:

…as Boogie Down Productions put it just over a decade later – might feel strangely familiar.

There was even – as mentioned above – an East Coast Hustle and a West Coast Hustle, just like hip-hop! Although, to the best of my knowledge, nobody got shot as a result. Van McCoy died in 1979, but that was from a heart attack.

But of course, Van McCoy didn’t come from the South Bronx Puerto Rican motorcycle gang culture. Van McCoy didn’t know anything about this.

Van McCoy wasn’t from South Bronx. Or from Brooklyn. Or from Queens.

Van McCoy was from Washington D.C.

He’d been in the record industry since the 50s, when his doo-wop group dropped “The Birdland”, and wouldn’t you know it, it was a novelty dance number. It wasn’t a hit.

Although Van had been involved in the music industry for about two decades by the time he came up with “The Hustle”, he wasn’t all that good at coming up hits, his previous career peak being writing “Baby I’m Yours” for Barbara Lewis:

But then he came across The Hustle. The dance, in this case, not the song.

Van came across The Hustle, not in South Bronx, but in a disco called Adam’s Apple on the Upper East Side.

The Adam’s Apple was a disco filled with fake plastic trees and designed to look like the Garden Of Eden.

The Hustle had clearly come a long way from South Bronx.

Not geographically perhaps, but socio-economically. Van claims it reminded him of ballroom dancing, so presumedly the Hustle they danced at Adam’s Apple at least vaguely resembled The Hustle as danced by Willie.

Van was so impressed that he rushed to the studio – where he was recording a disco album anyway.

And then he added a tootlin’ piccolo over the top of it.

Now, when we think of dance-crazes we generally think of the 60s; “The Twist”, “The Fly”, “The Mashed Potato”, “The Watusi”… but with the whole of the world disco dancing, 1975 saw a whole new wave.

It saw the Fatback Band – who had a hustle dance of their own, with “Spanish Hustle” – and “(Are You Ready?) Do The Bus-Stop” (it’s an 8.) The Bus-Stop dance itself was a variation on The Hustle.

For whatever reason, the Australian education system really embraced “The Bus-Stop”, incorporating it into the school curriculum.

Although not as much as it embraced learning “The Nutbush”, danced – as I’m sure you can guess – to Ike and Tina Turner’s 1973 hit “Nutbush City Limits.” 

With instructions probably based on “The Madison.” Sent to teachers across the state: and not a single Prom, Social Dance or police-run underaged “Blue Light Disco” would be complete unless the DJ played “Nutbush City Limits.” Usually followed by “(Are You Ready?) Do The Bus-Stop”.

“The Time Warp” would be added a few years later.

Here’s Tina Turner singing “Nutbush” whilst not actually doing the “Nutbush” because this is 1973 and it hadn’t been invented yet (it may be my nostalgia speaking, but “Nutbush City Limits” is a 10,)

“The Hustle,” sad to say, was not adopted by the New South Wales Department of Education.

It was however adopted by James Brown, as part of his mid-70s attempt at proving he was still down with the latest sounds.

No longer singing about Papa having a brand new bag, James Brown had turned into Papa, an old man doing the Funky Chicken, his 1975 album – Everybody’s Doin’ the Hustle & Dead on the Double Bump – named after two disco dances for the price of one!

The Bump was probably the easiest disco dance of them all, involving no move more challenging than bumping your bum against your partner’s bum.

A song you don’t really hear anymore.

“The Hustle” is a 9.

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Meanwhile, in Rock Land… 

Aerosmith were The Rolling Stones squared.

Not squared as in “uncool”, although I’m pretty sure the Stones have never recorded a power ballad by Diane Warren, but as in multiplied by itself. It was there in their grotty demeaner. It was there in their bluesy riffs.

In 2001, when Aerosmith were inducted into the Rock’n’Roll Hall of Fame, Steven Tyler began his speech with “I wonder if this’ll put an end to ‘Hey, aren’t you Mick Jagger?” People had been telling Steven he looked like Mick Jagger even in the 60s, way before he was famous.

There is one easy way to tell Steven and Mick apart however. Steven Tyler never goes anywhere without a great big scarf draped over his microphone stand.

Turns out that this habit is related to another accessory Steven never went anywhere without, and also another habit… Steven used to hide his pills in the scarf, so that he could sneakily ingest them whilst on stage.

That’s what his daughter says – not Liv, there’s another one – but Steven claims they were the last remnants of a once vibrant shirt, that had gradually deteriorated whilst on stage due to sweating, and just general rockin’ too hard-ness. The scarfs were a tribute to such martyred shirts.

Aerosmith were very much an us-against-the-world kind of band.

They had to be because so much of the world seemed to be against them. Aerosmith were popular amongst a very narrow niche.

Even their manager didn’t seem to like them all that much, admitting that it was “tough to accept Aerosmith in your head”, unless apparently you were a high school boy aged between 13 and 16, most likely smoking pot behind the shed at recess.

Fortunately for Aerosmith, boys between the ages of 13 and 16 are not big readers of rock critics, who apparently hated them.

Rolling Stone hated them, presumedly because it was part of their contract with Mick Jagger for stealing his band’s name. Other critics hated them for not being the sleazier- than-the-Stones-band, the New York Dolls, who critics had loved, but who had been far, far, far less successful (“Personality Crisis” is a 10.)

At least that’s what Aerosmith’s reputation was – the band critics love to hate.

Although Robert Christgau seemed to like them well enough, describing them as “loud and cunning enough to provide a real treat for the hearing-impaired.” And also philosophizing that “if a band is going to be dumb, it might as well be American dumb.” I think those are supposed to be compliments.

By pushing the line that ‘the critics hated Aerosmith,’ the band was able to deliver a double whammy of rebellion.

Being an Aerosmith fan wasn’t just stickin’ it to your parents, it was giving the middle finger to snooty critics.

You can bet high school boys aged between 13 and 16 lapped “Walk This Way” up.

It’s probably the most accurate portrayal of being a high school boy aged between 13 and 16, trying, oh so hard, to lose your virginity, ever penned. And also, because it was about a particular intimate activity. (Walking this way being how Steven should move his digits when… listen, do I have to spell this out to you?)

Is “Walk This Way” therefore, a real story? Did Steven…

…really have “the talk” with his father, discussing his backstroke lovin’, during which his father gave him the advice about being down on a muffin? Steven Tyler’s Dad clearly has different ideas about fathering than mine did. I don’t think we ever even had “the talk”?

Or even to do with exuding self-confidence (the interpretation I daresay most people have). Mel Brooks had stolen the line from The Three Stooges.

Aerosmith were big fans of The Three Stooges; it was their favourite viewing when they were stoned.

Steven got stoned a lot.

He was stoned on the way to the recording studio after writing the lyrics to “Walk This Way” the night before, and he accidently left the lyrics in the cab. He had to retreat to the stairwell, to gather his muddled thoughts, and rewrite the lyrics from memory on the wall. I’d love to tell you that this wall has now been heritage listed, that Steven’s scribbles are still legible, and you can visit the “Walk This Way” wall, but this doesn’t appear to be the case.

“If you listen closely, you’ll hear that I disguised it quite cleverly.”

Really, Steven? Really?

“You ain’t seen nothin’ til you’re down on a muffin”? “I meet a cheerleader, she was a real young bleeder”? “Hey diddy diddle, with your kitty in the middle.”? All these lines mean exactly what you think they mean! Lyrics vague enough to get played on the radio, but obvious enough for teenage boys to giggle about knowingly.

Unfortunately for Aerosmith, 13-to-16-year-old boys were also the core demographic for Alice Cooper.

Who had just dropped Welcome To My Nightmare, featuring “Only Women Bleed” and what is probably my personal favourite Alice song, “Department Of Youth”, with my personal favourite bit; the fade out.

• The Kids: “WE GOT THE POWER!!”
• Alice: “AND WHO GAVE IT TO YOU?”

The Kids:

Alice, Shocked!! Appalled!! Disgusted!!! “WHAT?!!?!”

(“Department Of Youth” is a 10.)

That demographic didn’t get a whole lot of pocket money, and most of that they got was spent on pot. Or Alice Cooper records. At least until Alice made that weird right-hand-turn into adult-contemporary balladry with “You And Me” in 1977. No-one saw that one coming (“You And Me” is a 5.)

Maybe that’s why “Walk This Way” was initially a flop.

At least on the Hot 100. Eventually it would make it to the edge of the Top Ten, but it took roughly 18 months. This seemed to happen a lot with Aerosmith. It could be argued that “Walk This Way” was a relatively instant hit.

So what had changed over those three years, in order for first “Dream On” and then “Walk This Way” to scale the charts?

Well for one thing, Aerosmith had assembled an army. Or at least an extremely loyal fan base. Dressed in denim blue jeans, an often with a blue denim jacket to match, they were known as “The Blue Army.” They were almost solely male.

According to guitarist/genius Joe Perry: 

“Aerosmith back then was definitely a guy thing. It used to be the only girls at Aerosmith shows were the ones hoping to b*low us on the bus.”

Joe Perry was the guitarist/genius who came up with the “Walk This Way” riff; a riff that aimed for – not the Rolling Stones – but The Meters’ funk classic “Cissy Strut.” Musically, “Walk This Way” is basically Aerosmith’s “Play That Funky Music.” And that riff, is basically Aerosmith’s “Satisfaction.”

“Walk This Way” is undeniably funky, in its way. The drum beat at the start… Run DMC would not have to do much – add a couple of scratches is all – in order for it to sound as though it belonged on a hip-hop record. Maybe that’s why it took so long to become a hit… “Walk This Way” was simply ahead of its time.

“Walk This Way” is a 9.

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Meanwhile, in Sweden-Land…

And so ABBA’s Imperial Phase begins.

The start of a constant stream, nay, torrent, of hits that would ensure that ABBA were the dominant force in Europop, all the way until 1978, and the beginning of the Boney M Hegemony.

That year may also have seen ABBA lose some of its territory to the combined forces of Saturday Night Fever and Grease.

This may not be immediately obvious from looking at the Billboard charts:

Where they’d only be Number One on the Hot 100 for one single week (I think you can guess the song) but consider… in Australia, they had three Number Ones in a row!

• First there were three weeks of “I Do, I Do, I Do, I Do, I Do” (it’s an 8.)
• Followed instantly by ten weeks of “Mamma Mia” (it’s a 9),
• Before one week of “S.O.S.”

That’s a total of 14 weeks of non-stop ABBA at Number One!

This was followed, only a couple of months later, by 14 non-stop weeks of “Fernando” at Number One.

ABBA would finally end up having 42 weeks at Number One in Australia. And an ABBA TV special would receive higher ratings than the Moon Landing had!

But, even in Australia, ABBA couldn’t turn “Bang-A Boomerang” into a hit. (“Bang-A Boomerang” is a 4, nobody’s perfect…)

In Europe, ABBA were even BIGGER!

A pan-European chart wouldn’t exist until May 1976 – “Mamma Mia” would surely have reached Number One if it had existed earlier – but even without “Mamma Mia”, ABBA managed to grab 60 weeks at Number One!

ABBA had been aiming for global stardom from the beginning:

Quite a brazen move for a little Swedish schlager band (“Ring Ring” is an 8, Benny’s bit almost drags it down to a 7)

Individually, even before they joined forces, every member of ABBA was about as famous as a Swede could get.

When they got together as ABBA they were basically a duo of Swedish power-couples.

So much so that they initially went by the band name, Björn, Benny, Agnetha & Frida, as though they were Crosby, Still, Nash & Young, but even more famous because they were going by their birth names.

It wasn’t long before they worked out that Björn, Benny, Agnetha & Frida was an unworkable mouthful, and changed their name to that of a Swedish fish-canning company:

The company gave them the go-ahead on the condition that ABBA didn’t do anything to embarrass them, and other than perhaps some inadvisable fashion choices:

Apparently inspired by the Swedish tax code that stated that the cost of costumes was a tax deductible expense, as long as said-costumes could not credibly be worn whilst casually walking down the street – and perhaps the problematic “Does Your Mother Know?”, the band kept their side of the agreement.

Obviously, ABBA is not just the name of a Swedish fish canning company.

It’s also the initials of their first names: Agnetha, Björn, Benny, Anni-Frid. That’s two Nordic goddesses married to two goofy-looking geniuses.

But Benny and Anni-Frid may as well have been.

It wasn’t long before Agnetha was typically referred to as Anna – it’s what Björn called her, after all – and Anni-Frid became Frida.

Please don’t read too much into the fact that Anna was given top billing, just because she was the hotter one, since they’ve never officially stated which member corresponds with which letter. It may have been Anni-Frid that was the first A, we just don’t know!

Some believed that this – the two Bs facing away from each other – was a sign of inter-ABBA turmoil; that ABBA were the Europop Fleetwood Mac (although since Rumours was still two years away, maybe it was Fleetwood that were the trans-Atlantic ABBA?)

And it’s possible that – even at this early stage – things were not as happy as they seemed. There were rumours that the two girls were squabbling.

There were rumours that ABBA were about to break up as early as 1975, and again in 1976, because Anna/Agnetha had become convinced that she was the star of the show and that she should go solo. But with Anna gone, how could ABBA even try to go on?

(You’ll just have to trust me that this is what this article is about… although do we really want to trust a source that mixes Bjorn and Benny up?)

Apparently they had an emergency meeting – sent out an “S.O.S.” as it were – at a bar on a sunny afternoon and sorted it all out.

At the same time Anna/Agnetha was telling journalists she was worried she was failing as a mother to her and Björn’s 3-year-old daughter, another reason for quitting the band.

And in fact, Anna/Agnetha did go solo in 1975. So did Frida.

These were Sweden-only albums with unpronounceable Swedish titles, but still, imagine that; releasing “I Do, I Do, I Do, I Do, I Do”, “Mamma Mia”, “S.O.S.”, the Australian-covers-band favourite “Rock Me”, plus two solo albums in one year! That’s what you call an Imperial Phase!

Being two couples, who seemed to do nothing else but hang out with each other – in reality they didn’t, at least nowhere near as much as you might think – the world wondered, and journalists asked questions… Benny admitted that he had flirted with Anna, Anna made it known that she wasn’t into partner swapping. Benny was also prone to saying things like Anna “is very sexy, therefore we prefer to dress her in mini-skirts and things like that.”

And didn’t they!!!

When ABBA toured Germany, German TV wouldn’t let the girls sing in their short dresses, because when they danced you could see their panties.

Benny did give his wife – Anni-Frid/Frida – credit however for being more stylish and sophisticated. Journalists referred to her as mysterious and secretive. She brought ABBA some cosmopolitan flavour; she wasn’t Swedish, she was born in Norway (to Nazi father, but that wasn’t her fault).

You could hardly blame journalists for pondering these questions. Even whilst they presented themselves to the world as two happily married couples that were best of friends,

Everybody goes on about “The Winner Takes It All”, and how Björn wrote a song about their divorce and got Anna to sing it, so no wonder she sounds as though she’s about to have a nervous breakdown, but “Knowing Me, Knowing You”, a hit during the happier times, is almost as sad, featuring such couplets as “walking through an empty house, tears in my eyes, here is where the story ends, this is goodbye” and “in these old familiar rooms, children would play, now there’s only emptiness, nothing to say.”

 How the hell did ABBA ever get a reputation for feel-good music? (“Knowing Me, Knowing You” is a 10.)

“S.O.S.” isn’t quite the gut-punch of “Knowing Me, Knowing You” but it’s still hella sad. Anna brings out her shy country girl pout, to beg for answers her questions about the cruelty of human nature, whilst Benny plays teardrops on the piano:

“Where are those happy days? They seem so hard to find
I tried to reach for you, but you have closed your mind”

Tears are welling in my eyes as I type.

ABBA’s handle on the English language still needed a little work:

“It used to be so nice, it used to be so good” is clunky enough to begin with, but when they basically repeat it later with “what happened to our love, it used to be so good”, it’s clearly time, as endearing as it is, for Benny and Björn to invest in a rhyming dictionary.

“S.O.S.“ – reputed to be the only ever Hot 100 record for which both the band name and song title are palindromes – is a 10.

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