A BOY SURROUNDED by legendary rock stars, treating them as the neighborhood patron at his father's restaurant. A teen whose DJ career launched at the age of 14 after being handed a James Brown promo. A young man inspired by and associated with the likes of the Paradise Garage and The Loft. A musical patriarch whose Body & Soul parties have left a worldwide impression. A master of manipulating recorded music to move the masses. A four-decade participant, observer and forecaster of some of the most exciting times in American music.
This is Danny Krivit. And in this interview, you'll read about why he thinks the cycle of music has been breached, who to call upon to DJ a DJ's wedding, and if soulful House is indeed dying on the vine...
You just got back from Japan - so what's on your agenda now that you're in the States?
I'm going to be married in September in the Brooklyn Botanical Gardens and I'm moving my apartment at the same time. That's my priority lately and it's kicking my butt.
Wow, whom are you getting married to?
Akemi Kakihara, also known as AK. She's a singer/producer and has a couple records out on King Street and is quite big in Japan.
Who will be the wedding DJ at a wedding for a maestro DJ?
My next door neighbor, Johnny Dynell. He's a really old friend and well suited for the gig.
You started seriously DJing at age fourteen, right?
Yes, that was literally my professional start. Before that I was a record collector and played for my friends. My father changed his downstairs restaurant into a disco after business had slowed down, and I was enlisted. He was in the middle of Greenwich Village, so he was told, "Open a disco and you'll have money overnight." That's what he did.
Your father's restaurant was The Ninth Circle?
Yes, it was a steakhouse during the 1960s and didn't have much to do with DJs. At the time, jukeboxes and tapes ruled the city, and that's how most of the places had their music. The difference between them and The Ninth Circle is we were able to pick the music that was played at our place. Most jukeboxes were regulated to what the record companies gave you. But my father found a place on 10th Avenue that would make individual cuts of whatever you wanted. He had the music that was hot, ranging from jazz to rock, which helped attract a certain type of crowd. It was in the heart of Greenwich Village, which at the time was a mecca of artists, and The Ninth Circle was their regular hangout.
When was the place first opened?
It all started in 1961. By the time I started there, the restaurant was beginning to fail and then it had its second life by implementing the disco. Prior to that, its big reputation came from folks like Janis Joplin, Jimi Hendrix, Charlie Mingus and others. In the '70s there were some celebrities, but it was more of a happening spot as a disco. In the '60s it was completely straight, but just over night it was completely gay.
What was it like witnessing the rise of gay pride?
I think it was something boiling under for awhile. Prior to gay pride, I knew about gays but I thought it was a small group of people. But then one day, just outside of my apartment I could see the Stonewall incident and noticed that the everyday type of person was there. Before then it was illegal to be gay and I think from that transition, people really took it as an avenue to express themselves. There was a time when it seemed like the best clubs and everything artistic and hip was gay. There were no happening straight clubs. It was such an explosion that was repressed for so long...
Do you feel that having an avenue to release the repression, such as the Paradise Garage and The Loft, helped make places those places as legendary as they are now?
It was a combination of that and some other things. In the past we had these regular cycles of liberalism and conservatism. And with all of the political and social turmoil we were going through, it was a period where there was a lot of change in the air.
Around that time, in the 1970s, all music was formatted to two minutes and forty-five seconds. Subsequently, you could play these long, obscure album cuts and everyone was going nuts to them. I loved them, but I tried to play these same things to other people, and they weren't getting it. I was told it was music you listened to at your home. And then I realized there was a whole community into it.
Things just had to change. I think that's how the DJs came in and had such power and influence. They were bringing something new to people with their music, and I think people were tired of the music that was being forced down their throat. I think that's where hip-hop is right now, as opposed to the early hip-hop scene when it had expression, was cutting edge and hip. During that time, people were really reaching out for music that was different and had something to say and wasn't necessarily mainstream.
After witnessing so many cycles in music history, where would you say we are on the cycle in this current decade?
This is a more complicated cycle. In the case of hip-hop, people pushed it back for a long time and didn't want to know about it. After awhile it had been suppressed so much that it almost was denying its popularity - so much so that when it did finally spring forth, it was this big money-making machine. People were saying, "Okay, it's the next disco." Once the industry got behind it, it was almost too late - you knew where it was going.
So usually we'd know it was the end of the mainstream cycle and would make room for the next thing. But I think the cycle has been broken, and instead of making room for new music and ideas, we got side-swiped by the internet and downloading. The reason to get involved in music and study music and so many other aspects of it has changed. It's a lot harder to think, "Okay, this is where it's going." There are so many factors involved now.
The main thing for me is that my whole life I knew people had leisure time, and were able to enjoy music in their leisure time. Now people have a shorter tolerance and patience so they tend to reach for gimmicks instead of music that grows on you. So much music I like now I didn't like at first. These days, you don't have the time for that and you might never like that song because you'll never give it time to grow on you. Places like The Loft - you had this twelve hour party every Saturday, with no mixing and long, obscure cuts. And people just absorbed the whole night. Now, it's every once-in-a-while. I don't know anyone that has the time and patience to stay for an entire evening. People are looking at their watches saying, "I don't like this song and if the next one isn't good, I'm gone." It's that kind of mentality.
Why do you think that is?
It's a sign of the times. The pace that we're going through, we're working so hard just to live instead of enjoying life. Instead of computers working for us, they're sucking us dry. Nobody really has time anymore.
For awhile, we've had the option of having a digital copy of music, but within the last year or two we're almost forced to. It's all you can have. The people who have records - it's like some kind of luxury. "You have space for that? Where do you buy them?"
As accessible as digital downloads are, they're not that much fun. When I get handed a record, I can look deep into the art and get lost in the music. And with the lack of quality in a download and the ownership aspect, it doesn't mean as much to you. So instead of crying that you lost your record collection, you just buy a new iPod and probably don't even replace that much of the music.
I don't even know when songs are released anymore. Great songs are lost and mediocre songs are considered a reasonable hit. And nothing's much of a hit anymore. Now you sell a thousand records in the soulful House scene and it's considered a hit. They used to give that much away!
So the onslaught of technology has changed people's use of time?
Yeah, it's pulled the rug all across the board. Just like club owners in the past. You didn't need to make a lot of money - it was more of an artistic venture. And now because of the cost of rent, the only people that get involved are money people. It's all about bottle service. You go to these places and you feel it.
It's the same with music. Many people getting involved with music now are looking for short cuts. It's a matter of "What can I do to sell a hit?" instead of "I have this musical thought in my head that I have to express." And you don't have people taking the time to study music or instruments. It's short cuts and that trickles down to the public because now they don't have a lot of moments when they're blown away.
