Who Ordered the Pie? | Classic Rock Music History & Cocktails

Episode 28: When Rock Went Disco | The Beat They Couldn’t Ignore

Christopher Machado Episode 28

Use Left/Right to seek, Home/End to jump to start or end. Hold shift to jump forward or backward.

0:00 | 18:10

Send us Fan Mail

What happens when rock meets disco?

In the late 1970s, it wasn’t just a trend. It was a moment where even the biggest rock bands had to decide. Ignore it, or follow the beat.

In this episode of Who Ordered the Pie?, we dive into the songs that defined that shift. From bands that resisted it, to artists who embraced it, to a few who found themselves caught right in the middle.

You’ll hear how The Rolling Stones studied club grooves for “Miss You,” how Rod Stewart turned parody into a global hit with “Da Ya Think I’m Sexy?,” and how KISS engineered a disco anthem with “I Was Made for Lovin’ You.”

We also explore the surprising turns, like Grateful Dead stepping into a tighter, more polished sound with “Shakedown Street,” The Kinks pushing back with humor in “(Wish I Could Fly Like) Superman,” and Pink Floyd creating a No. 1 hit with a groove you might not have noticed until now.

And by the end, Electric Light Orchestra shows what happens when rock stops resisting and starts speaking the language of disco.

Along the way, we break down the stories behind the songs, the tension inside the bands, and the moments where everything changed.

And as always, there’s a cocktail to match.

Tonight’s drink is the Mirrorball Mule, a mix of bourbon, citrus, and ginger beer that starts grounded and builds into something with a little more movement underneath.

If you’ve ever wondered how disco pulled rock onto the dance floor, this is the story.

Support the show

Who Ordered the Pie? a music history podcast with custom cocktail pairings.
Show notes, recipes, and extras: WhoOrderedThePie.com
Follow: Apple Podcasts • Spotify • YouTube • Instagram

SPEAKER_00

There was a moment in the late 1970s when rock bands had a choice ignore disco or follow the beat. Because suddenly it wasn't just in clubs, it was on the radio, it was on charts, it was everywhere. And a lot of us rock fans felt like something was slipping because rock wasn't just music, it was identity, it was rebellion. It was supposed to be the one thing that wasn't polished, that wasn't manufactured, that wasn't chasing trends. And then the beat changed. And when it did, some of the biggest names in rock started showing up in places no one expected. Dance floors, mirror balls. And some of his fans, it didn't feel like evolution, it felt like betrayal. Like something real had been traded for something popular. And the most surprising part, it wasn't just one or two artists, it was everywhere. Bans you expected and band you didn't. And even some bands that swore they weren't going to do it somehow ended up right in the middle of it. Some resisted, some chased it, and some just ended up there. Because once the beat took over, no one was completely untouched. And welcome back to Who Ordered the Pie, the podcast where music history, the stories behind the songs, and a little something in your glass all come together. I'm Christopher, and today we're talking about the moment when rock met the dance floor. Miss You by the Rolling Stones, released in 1978, it reached number one on the Billboard Hot 100, their last number one single in the United States. Kind of a cool fact. And if you listen closely, this isn't just a rock song. It's built on a groove that they didn't just stumble into.

SPEAKER_03

I've been holding out so long, I've been sleeping all alone.

SPEAKER_00

It started in rehearsals with keyboardist Billy Preston when Mick Jagger began shaping the song out of a jam. Preston, sometimes known as the Fifth Beetle, had a way of finding a feel inside a song. Something you can hear in the Beatles track Get Back. And some of that same sense of groove made it into this one. By the late 1970s, Jagger was spending a lot of time in Studio 54, right at the center of disco culture. And he wasn't just there at a party. He was watching what filled with the dance floor, what kept people moving, and what worked. And that groove made its way back inside the studio. The band had always pushed back on what they called disco, but even inside the band, they didn't agree. Jagger and Ronniewood insisted it wasn't disco, while Keith Richards called it exactly what it was, and I quote, a damn good disco record. And the influence went deeper than just observation. While Jagger was absorbing the scene, bassist Bill Wyman took a more deliberate approach. He actually went out to the clubs to study the groove, and that bass line, the one that drives the entire song, came directly out of that world. They even released an extended disco version, their first official 12-inch dance remix, something rock bands just weren't doing at the time, stretching out that track past eight minutes and building it for the dance floor. And critics noticed one called it distastefully alluring. Not outright rejection, but suspicion, because this wasn't just experimentation anymore. Wyman later said that that bass line had been copied by just about every band that next year, including Rod Stewart. And when you listen to what came after, it's hard to argue with him. And that wasn't an accident. This song was written around the atmosphere of the disco scene itself, a nervous encounter between two people in a club. And here's where it gets interesting. Some of the people involved said it actually was meant to be a spoof, a response to disco taking over and rock musicians feeling like they were finished. And that might be the strangest part. What started as a parody disco ended up becoming one of the biggest hits. But at the time, fans didn't hear it that way. Critics didn't either. Many called it a betrayal of Rod's blues-driven roots, like he had traded something real for something popular. And then came the controversy. The chorus closely resembled a Brazilian song Taj Mahal, originally recorded by Bjorn Ben Huor in 1972. And Stewart later admitted it was an unconscious plagiarism after hearing it at Rio Carnival. The dispute was settled amicably, and he agreed to donate the song's royalties to UNICEF. And despite all that, it worked. Because by the end of the 1970s, this wasn't just influence anymore, it was survival. And Rod Stewart didn't resist it, he stepped right into it. But he wasn't alone because now other bands weren't just drifting towards the sound, they were aiming at it. Paul Stanley of Kiss walks in and says he's been writing a new song with songwriter Desmond Child, who would later become known for his hits like Living on a Prayer and You Give Love a Bad Name. And together, they built the core of a song in about an hour. Gene Simmons sits down with Paul to go over the lyrics. Paul starts reading. And Gene's thinking, yeah, I know what it is. That's cool. I like it. And Into the Darkness, there's so much I want to do. Into the darkness, yeah, that rocks, Gene says. To him, that sounded big. That sounded like Kiss. And then he asked, What's my part? His next reaction, come on, I'm Gotta Thunder.

SPEAKER_01

I want to give it all to you.

SPEAKER_00

I Was Made for Loving You by KISS, released in 1979, reached number 11 on the Billboard Hot 100 and became one of their biggest global hits. And this one wasn't an accident. Stanley made the decision for KISS. He said it himself. He wanted to prove KISS could write a disco anthem, the same way they had with Rock and Roll All Night.

SPEAKER_08

This girl I was made for you.

SPEAKER_00

They didn't just chase it, they built it. Because if you're gonna make a disco record, it has to be tight. Precise rhythm, locked-in groove. And at that moment, Peter Chris, the drummer, wasn't in a place to give them that. He was dealing with drug and alcohol issues, and things inside the band were starting to fracture. So in the studio, they needed something tighter, something more controlled. So they brought in the session drummer instead, Anton Figg, a player known for being tight, precise, and consistent, exactly what disco records demand. And it wasn't just this track. On that dynasty record, Peter Chris only played drums on one song on the entire album, and yet his face is still on the cover, and he's still listed as the drummer. Years later, Gene Simmons would say this was one of his least favorite kiss songs, and yet every night, entire arenas were jumping up and down and singing along to it. And right in the middle of it, the song leans all the way in. A long instrumental break, laser-like synths, a pulsing almost mechanical rhythm, and this wasn't subtle, this was Kiss stepping fully into disco. So even before the critics reacted, the band had already changed direction, and when the song was released, the backlash was immediate. Rolling Stone warned the KISS Army might mutiny. For many fans, this felt like a line that had been crossed, like a band that once stood against trends was now stepping directly into one. And yet, the song climbed the charts, and over time it really became something else entirely. And despite all that, it worked. Because at this point, this wasn't just influence anymore, it was survival. And KISS didn't just stumble in the disco, they danced straight into it. And if you think that was surprising, even bands that you'd never expect found themselves there. This was a jam band, a band built on improvisation, long songs, and a deeply loyal following. The last band you'd ever expect to hear anywhere near a dance floor. Shakedown Street by The Grateful Dead, released in 1978, reached number 64 on Billboard Hot 100. And when you hear it, you can feel it immediately. Because this isn't the Grateful Dead people thought they knew. This wasn't the loose, wandering sound people expected from the dead. This was tighter, more structured.

SPEAKER_04

Maybe that's because it's midnight and the dark of the moon.

SPEAKER_00

By the late 70s, the dead knew that the landscape had changed. And even bands that had built their identity outside the mainstream were starting to feel the pressure. So this became an attempt to reach a wider audience without completely losing who they were. This is built on a groove that leans towards the dance floor, with a cleaner, more polished sound than anything they had done before. But for a lot of people, this didn't feel like evolution. It felt like a band that had always existed outside the system, suddenly trying to step into it. Oh, and brace yourself. If you hadn't heard it before, you're about to hear the Grateful Dead go woo. And inside the band, they didn't exactly deny it. One member later admitted that they were trying to make something that could sell. And another said they tried to sell out and still couldn't quite pull it off. For a brief moment, the world knew them as Disco Dead. And that's when we realized that this wasn't a trend anymore. It was everywhere. This one feels like a reaction, not just to disco, but to pressure. And that lyric tells you everything. He's not even trying to sound like disco. The lyrics were awkward, a little ridiculous. Like he's making the song and making fun of it at the same time. He later said the song was written as a joke, a way of taking that request and twisting it into something else. And you can hear that in the tension. The groove is there, but it still feels like the kinks. And inside the band, there was tension, there was doubt. It could have been one of their biggest mistakes. But the fact that it only reached number 41 almost says everything. They tried it, they satisfied the label, and they moved on. Because this isn't chasing disco, it's resisting the gravity while still being pulled in. And our next song might be the one that people push back on the most, because no one thinks that Pink Floyd is disco. Another Brick in the Wall, part two, by Pink Floyd from the album The Wall, released in 1979, became number one on the Billboard Hot 100 and sold over 4 million copies worldwide. And it didn't just reach number one, it stayed there for four weeks. And somehow, a band known for long experimental concept albums ended up with something danceable. And it's easy to miss at first, I know I did, until one day I hear it and I think, wait a minute, that's disco. Because it's all there. That tight funky guitar line, something straight out of Sarenette Fever, and that steady four and the four pulse underneath it, it's subtle, but it's all there.

SPEAKER_08

Hey, teacher, leave them kids alone.

SPEAKER_00

Producer Bob Ezrin pushed them to make it more accessible, more rhythmic, and closer to what was happening in clubs. David Gilmore was told to go listen to disco, and he hated it. And what makes it even more interesting is how different this is from everything around it. Because this is a dark conceptual album. Isolation, control, psychological walls being built brick by brick, and nowhere else on the record does it sound like this. But that groove that pulls underneath it made it something that you could put on the radio and even in clubs. The band resisted. They didn't want it released as a single, and they didn't want it extended. But Esrin did it anyway. And he added a children's choir, not as a studio effect. An actual group of school kids brought in to sing the chant. And suddenly this dark idea becomes something you can't get out of your head. And not everybody was thrilled about it because once the song came out, some of the teachers weren't too happy hearing their own students singing that back. But that's what makes it land, a protest song with a pulse. A song about control shaped by forces they didn't fully control. And a couple years later, Pink Floyd released a compilation called A Collection of Great Dance Songs, which kind of says it all. Even they knew something had changed, because this wasn't Pink Floyd chasing disco. It was disco finding its way to Pink Floyd.

SPEAKER_07

If you don't cheat your meat! You can't have any pudding! How can you have any pudding if you don't cheat your meat?

SPEAKER_00

Shine a Little Love by Electric Light Orchestra, released in 1979, reached number eight on the Billboard Hot 100 and became one of their biggest worldwide hits.

SPEAKER_03

I guess you had to wait yet.

SPEAKER_00

And by this point, something had changed because ELO didn't resist disco, they didn't push back against it, they stepped right into it. And they didn't ease into it either. This is the opening track of their discovery. Right from the start, this is the sound. Jeff Lynn even said it himself. It was very disco, very jolly, and bouncy. Something he wrote when he was just in a really good mood. And you can hear that all over the track. The driving rhythm, the layered production. Even a 40-piece string section sitting right on top of the dance floor groove. And that's now the difference. Earlier, bands were reacting to disco, pushing against it, trying to control it, be here. It's not a reaction anymore, it's the foundation. And what's striking here is there's no tension, there's no resistance, no hesitation. It fits. Fans even joked that the album title of Discovery really meant disco very. And honestly, they weren't wrong. Because by now, this wasn't crossover anymore. It wasn't rock meeting disco, it was rock speaking disco. And yellow spoke it fluently. Well, let's step off the dance floor and step over into the lounge. Tonight's cocktail is called the Mirrorball Mule. Because just like the music we talked about, this one starts grounded and then something else takes over. You've got bourbon at the base, something solid and familiar, then lime for brightness, pineapple for a little lift, and ginger beer to give it that snap underneath. In a double rocks glass filled with crushed ice, pour two ounces of your favorite bourbon, add half an ounce of fresh lime juice, half an ounce of pineapple juice, and top with ginger beer. Add three dashes of Polynesian kiss bitters and give it a quick stir, and garnish with a mint and lime. It starts like rock, but there's a cool groove underneath. And once you feel it, it's hard to ignore. Disco didn't just take over the charts. It forced every artist to respond. Some resisted, some embraced it, some tried to control it, and some lost control of it. And some ended up right in the middle. Because once the beat took over, there was no ignoring it. That choice we talked about in the beginning, ignore it or follow it, didn't last very long. In the end, most of them followed the beat. Now, before I sign off, the show is really starting to grow, and I'm asking for your help to take it to the next level. If you're enjoying the podcast, please follow it, leave a rating or a review, and share it with somebody you know who'd enjoy it too. It really does make a difference. And as another reminder, you can always find the recipes and information about the show on who ordered pie.com. Until next time, here's the loud riffs, quiet sips, and the stories in between.