5 Songs That Prove 1977 Was The Best Year For Disco By Far

Disco will never and can never die, but that doesn't mean it hasn't been more alive in some eras than others, and 1977 was a standout year. For all the efforts of rock purists (and some nastier people opposed to music that celebrated Black and queer joy) to quash the genre, disco survived its own alleged death; the AIDS epidemic; and a generation of people raised to think disco, full of dancing and sequins, was somehow "uncool." But before all that came the absolute pinnacle of disco: glorious, glamorous, and glittery 1977.

Our choices reflect how, in 1977, we had electronic disco, funky disco, and pure danceable hits that merged technical artistry with the energy and enthusiasm of people living in blessed ignorance of how terrible the '80s — including some concerts — would be. We've picked some of the big stars of disco, who had yet to fall into obscurity or die, as well as others who were just starting out. Thelma Houston and Donna Summer's pristine vocals were filling the radio dial, and Sylvester was working with two singers who would later become The Weather Girls. AIDS was not yet a global problem, and the weird Reagan-era worship of working in an office hadn't become culturally dominant: in 1977, you could still just dance.

One of the music industry's duties is to provide a breakup song for every potential relationship-ending vibe. Thelma Houston did her part for this great cause with "Don't Leave Me This Way," the best and most nearly dignified please-stay track from the disco era. We've all felt it, none of us like to admit it, but Houston made it art. Houston's version is a cover; the original, recorded by Harold Melvin & the Blue Notes, is a gorgeous companion piece to Houston's better-known version. Alternate them during your next breakup.

Houston's high, precise vocals add energy to a song that could be a slog in less capable hands. Her emotional but controlled delivery makes the track a bold choice for a karaoke performer, but an absolute slapper for drag acts, since lip-synching frees up some energy for dramatic emoting. Houston won a well-deserved Grammy award for "Don't Leave Me This Way," which peaked at No. 1 on the Billboard Hot 100 in 1977.

It's not strictly illegal to assemble a list of disco hits that excludes Donna Summer, but it feels like it should be. And as it happens, Summer notched one of her biggest smashes in 1977, the retrofuturistic and dreamy "I Feel Love." The wonderfully weird track climbed charts across the world, including a highly respectable No. 6 in the U.S. and a long spell at No.1 in the U.K., and showed other musicians that disco could be a bigger and bolder genre.

"I Feel Love" has a science-fiction vibe even today, with Summer's high, graceful, and almost leisurely vocals unspooling across a tight, driving synth beat. Though it's from the late '70s, it presages a lot of the 1980s: This track is the John the Baptist foretelling the arrival of techno, house, and other electronic genres. The secret weapon is the Moog synthesizer, expertly and perfectly synced, and juiced with just a touch of chaos — the bass line is designed to hit the right speaker of a stereo output a tiny bit after the left, creating a complexity in the rhythm that dancers loved.

"I Been Down" is the collab you didn't know you hoped for. Sylvester's self-titled first album, released in 1977, featured a track with vocals by two women he occasionally worked with, Izora Rhodes and Martha Wash. The Junoesque vocalists were then performing as Two Tons of Fun, but they would soon rebrand as The Weather Girls and give the world "It's Rainin' Men." "I Been Down" is a mid-tempo track about that timeless pursuit of complaining about men, which shows off Rhodes and Wash's voices and presence even more than their later work.

Many classic disco tracks feature very clean, precise vocals (think Thelma Houston), but that wasn't the only road to disco success. On "I Been Down," Rhodes and Wash growl and grind, making use of blues heritage even as they're supported by a then-modern disco backing track. The two women work incredibly well together, blurring the line between patter and duet, and it's a joy to hear them perform. This track from three disco legends deserves to be better known — do your part today and share it with someone.

We chose "Bite Your Granny" in part for the title (and because it was the closest to a successful single the group had), but any track from the one-disc wonder Morning, Noon & Night could have fit the bill. Over the course of eight tracks, the self-titled record proves that the blurry line between disco and funk should be embraced, enjoyed, and rolled around on top of. 

Details about the band are thin on the ground, not least because it shares the name with various other creative works and, apparently, a defunct Scottish chain of convenience stores. It's a shame, because the musicians deserve more credit (and more royalties), but tracks like "Bite Your Granny" stand for themselves. It starts sassy, it starts big, and it keeps going. Horns, vocals, and percussion all have a chance to shine. If it's more of a "getting energized to go out" than a truly danceable track, it's also an excellent lesson in giving obscure tracks a chance. It's probably pure bad luck that Morning, Noon & Night didn't strike it big — it certainly wasn't a lack of quality. Give these guys a chance, then go trawling discount bins and message boards for your next deep cut crush.

A less obscure and even more glorious funk-disco crossover is "Galaxy," from the album of the same title by War, the extraordinarily long-lived band headed by Harold Brown. Already a fusion-heavy band that wove Latin influences into an R&B and funk project, by 1977 War had been around under that name for eight years, racking up a pile of hits including "Why Can't We Be Friends?" 

"Galaxy" offers silly but relatable lyrics about preferring to go to outer space than continue with the "rat race," layered over an energetic and deeply layered rhythmic base. The voices are funky, but the danceability is pure disco. Additionally, the space-agey sound effects of shooting comets and alien cops responding to the noise complaint make the song playful without being lightweight. "Galaxy" even has a witty animated video, in which the band's members float through a solar system populated by throbbing planets, clotheslines, and various Technicolor detritus. It's not one of War's most famous tracks, but it's still a roaring success.