Nicky Siano

Wild man of disco

Interviewed by Bill in Brooklyn, October 7, 1998

They were a crazy bunch, those early New York DJs, filling their nights with music and drugs, and burning their days with more of the same. And by most people’s reckoning (his own included) Nicky Siano was one of the craziest. A wild, excitable teenager blessed with smarts and ambition and the financial wherewithal to follow his dreams, he took David Mancuso’s Loft blueprint and launched it into the public sphere. Siano’s Gallery took the same pains with sound and decor, but encouraged a wholly more abandoned atmosphere. Mancuso was inviting you to enter his home, Nicky wanted to take you up up and away.

He was one of the first of the city’s DJs to move into production, and as disco progressed he was chosen to fill the booth at the new Studio 54, but a few months later achieved the impressive feat of being fired from this palace of drug-taking for being too strung out. A long period of recovery followed.

Frankie Knuckles and Larry Levan started their club careers at the Gallery, preparing the place for take-off, and it’s fair to say Siano was the DJ conduit between Mancuso’s family function and the large-scale dance devotions of Levan’s Garage and Knuckles’ Warehouse. It’s intriguing to ponder where Nicky would have taken things if he hadn’t passed the baton quite so early. We meet in his Brooklyn apartment where he’s generous with his stories and keen to share photos and memorabilia. There’s a serenity to the place, but from the animated anecdotes and the twinkle in his eyes, the wildness is still there, waiting for the next night behind the decks.

How did you get into records?

From going out dancing. I met someone in high school who took me to the Village; the first club I ever went to, which was the Firehouse. Immediately, I really dug the music.

How old where you went there?

Fifteen.

What year was that?

Do we have to discuss that? [Laughter] 1970. About a year later, I was dancing around with my brother’s girlfriend and she said, ‘If you really like dancing you’ve gotta come to the Loft.’ She took me to the Loft and that was it. I was in total awe. I was hooked on the whole experience. The Loft was such a controlled environment, as well as the sound.

Describe it to me.

First of all, I’m not talking about Prince Street, I’m talking about Broadway. It was only 2,000 square feet, with 500 square feet of DJ booth. It was tiny. First of all, the Klipschorns; he put them in a way that they put out the sound and they reflected the sound. So they covered the whole area and exaggerated the sound. His room was perfect to do this with. He used to be on the dancefloor and the lights would go out, there would be these little lamps in the corner and the tweeters would come on and the lamps would go out. It was freaky deaky. I knew I was gay from a very young age, I was going out with men, but I met this girl from high school and we started going out together. She convinced this club owner to let me play records. It was called the Round Table. I played every night for $15 a night.

Had you started collecting records when you were in high school?

Yeah, I used to drag my girlfriend round the city looking for them. But there was really only one record store that was carrying these records: Colony.

How did you go from being a dancer to playing records?

I wanted to play records more than anything else in the world. I mean I was possessed by it. I had a little hi-fi, and a stereo and I would mix records back and forth between these two separate units. I had to do it. All I could think of was records. I remember I heard ‘Rain’ by Dorothy Morrison, I could not get it out of my head until I could get it in my hand, but not many record stores had it. I just searched and searched until I found it.

What kind of stuff where you playing at Round Table?

I guess stuff like ‘A Little Bit Of Love’ by Brenda and the Tabulations, War ‘City Country City’, ‘Girl You Need A Change Of Mind’ [by Eddie Kendricks]. Listen, if you remember everything, you really didn’t have a good time! [Laughter].

Had you come across some of the other DJs like Steve D’Acquisto and Francis Grasso?

I never came across Francis. And I never heard Steve D’Acquisto play. Steve played at Tamburlaine and Tamburlaine burnt down, Christmas Eve I think, right before I turned 17. I remember we went that night and we watched it burn down, Robin and I. Then we went to a club called the Tambourine, but Steve wasn’t playing there; it was Michael Cappello, at least as far as I remember. Now Michael and David Rodriguez, those were the people I’d go hear all the time.

Why were you attracted to those as DJs?

Well you know, Michael was so easy to look at.

I have heard this.

Oh my God. He was so easy to look at. Michael used to go out to dinner with us and he would take a Coke bottle and put the whole fucking thing down his throat. He did that so well. Michael was not a very talkative kind of person, but he was just really good at playing records. One of the things I really remember was that his mixes were really really smooth.

At that time, they had the Thorens – the TT125, not the direct drive. They were really old and were built into a casing which they would float in. I used them at the Gallery because the DJ booth was on the floor and when people jumped up and down the records would skip. It was very hard to cue records though, because they were belt-driven, so if you put your hands on the turntable, it would stop the record. You had to be really light with your touch.

Anyway, they used to speed the records up a little bit to make them more exciting. Neither David nor Michael were into changing the speed of records. They said to me: ‘Well, they didn’t record it that way, so why should we play it that way?’ They had a purist attitude to playing records, which I think people should heed a little bit more.

Michael played at the Limelight which was more of a bar. I dug his music but, you know, everyone basically played the same records back then. It was just how people put them together. Some people would play what I would call a filler record, and then a good record and then a filler record and then a good record… But my style was to link the fillers and let them build and then go into the good ones and just go off, on an hour of good ones until people were screaming so loud they couldn’t stand it any more, and then go back. David Rodriguez was more like that. He played at Limelight too. But Michael would peak the crowd.

So he would take it up and down…

No he would take it up and it would stay up, and it would go up and up and up and up, beyond where you’d feel you could go. It was great.

So tell me about David Rodgriguez.

David Rodriguez was the funniest person on earth. He could be very cruel. Sometimes the cruelty got to you. So then she’d take another Tuinal and take it even further. We used to call the Tuinal gorilla biscuits. I got so mad at him one night. I was playing records. I didn’t need to fall on the turntables any more than I already did. Well, she’s standing next to me doing ethyl chloride. I don’t know whether you know what this stuff is, but they spray it on you, it’s like a local anaesthetic; it freezes your skin when you’re getting a shot. Anyway, you used to spray it on a rag and stuff it in your mouth and inhale it. You’d get this buzzed out feeling, and you could pass out from it.

So anyway, he’s standing there with a rag in his mouth and he’s just spraying this shit – you’re supposed to spray the rag, put it in your mouth, get a little buzz and try it again. Well, he’s got the rag stuffed in his mouth, and he’s got the bottle in front of the rag and he’s just spraying the rag, and spraying the rag and inhaling. All of a sudden – BOOM! – right on the turntables. Everyone turns and looks at me. You got 600 people all turning around looking at you and I just looked at him: ‘You fat fucking bastard!’ I pulled him by the hair, threw him on the floor and started kicking him. It was really sad because I was so mad and really I should’ve been concerned but I wasn’t, I was like, ‘You did this on purpose you fat fuck!’ He cut his head on one of the milk crates in the booth and he had to get three stitches.

“  My style was to just go off – until people were screaming so loud they couldn’t stand it any more. ”

How was his style?

Honestly, his music didn’t move me to craziness, but he is the person who influenced me most. He was the person who came into my booth and said, ‘Don’t cut off the words, blend it here…’ He really stayed with me a lot and he was just a wonderful friend. He really helped me launch my career.

He probably discovered more records than anyone else. He was out there looking for new records all the time and would turn other people onto them. But of the five that he discovered that week, two were really good. He would turn us onto the same five and Michael [Cappello] and I would look at each other and we’d both pick the same two that were good, and then we’d play the same two over and over and really get the crowd going. Now at his night he would play all five and never really left an impression on you, but he took more risks in playing new music than anyone else back then. He was a real innovator.

Is David still alive?

No. He was one of the first people who died of AIDS.

When did you get Gallery going?

My brother and my girlfriend Robin were going to the Loft, and they were like, ‘Let’s do one of these, because there’s only one of them around. And let’s open it for a straight crowd, because this one already has a gay crowd.’ Coincidentally a friend of ours had just gotten this accident settlement $10,000. So we borrowed $5,000 more and built the Gallery. And then David [Mancuso] went away that summer and immediately people came. Alex Rosner did the sound system. It was awesome from day one. I think Gallery on Mercer Street surpassed anything at that time because of the lighting system. It was like Studio 54 in 1973. We had the simplest lights going, built on three tiers, so it looked like it was going up into the ceiling.

Did you do that yourselves?

My brother is an architectural engineer, so I told him what we wanted and he did it. I designed it and sort of did the structure of the building. And we had an electrician come in and do the wiring. It was really very simple, we had three different light colours on three levels, but they moved up in a triangle. If you looked up, the lighting would go up into the ceiling and that structure itself would be decorated, so you wouldn’t see the actual lights, you’d just see the colours.

And you modelled it very much on the Loft?

Yes, but you know David’s place was his house and you can’t ever recreate that in a club or compare it. Ours was like a more commercial club version of David’s, but that feeling and atmosphere was there. I mean when I played a record it was played everywhere. When David played a record, someone heard about it, and then if they played it was… It was more underground and it remained that way, although he had a tremendous influence on a lot of people, including myself.

What crowd did you have?

Unlike a lot of clubs, the Gallery was a place to dance. Although people met there and went home with each other and stuff like that, that’s not why they came. There was always acid, that was the big drug. At the old Gallery, it was very intense, because it was much more similar to the Loft, because there was only a very small area. The sound was intense. I remember someone having an epileptic fit one night because they were just driving themself so hard.

After about 15, 20 months, we got closed. All the clubs got closed for having improper fire exits. We moved. We went from a homely, close atmosphere to a club environment. A lot of the clubs were very kind of homey, slapped together places and this really had a hi-tech look. We had all this track lighting at the front area. There was a balcony that overlooked the dancefloor where people would hang out. Again, people did a lot of acid and I was doing a lot of drugs. The opening night was packed; you could not move. 1,500 people.

“  If there was a break on a record, I would extend it back and forth. Or if the beginning was hot I would play the beginning over and over. ”

Do you remember any of the great nights at the Gallery?

I think great is an understatement for nights at the Gallery. I think extraordinary. People got really out of control. I mean, there are points when the music was taking people so far out and getting so peaked out, that collectively people would be chanting, ‘TURN THIS MOTHERFUCKER OUT.’ That started at the Gallery. Can you imagine 700 people doing that? They’re blowin’ whistles and screaming, ‘Yeah yeah yeah yeah!’ Then I’d turn the bass horns and the lights would flash and go out and everyone would screeeam so loud you couldn’t hear the music for a second. They would be dancing so hard that if you went downstairs you would see the wood floor moving.

What was the soundtrack to the second Gallery?

I remember the songs I played at the opening night: ‘What Can You Do For Me?’ by Labelle was really really big, ‘Love Is The Message’ [by MFSB], which was really my theme song; I had been the first one to really work that record. David and Michael had been the first ones with ‘TSOP’ and then I turned the record over and fell in love with ‘Love Is The Message’. I had heard it some place else before, Le Jardin, I think. But then I ran with it.

I was with David Rodriguez and he went up to CBS and it was the CBS Christmas party and LaVerne Perry was our contact there and she played us ‘TSOP’ and I said, ‘Oh, I gotta have this.’

She said, ‘Well, I only have one.’

I said, ‘LaVerne, honey, we play at two different clubs, you gotta give us two copies.’

Meanwhile, there was another copy sitting right there with her other records. She wouldn’t give it up, so we just took the one. We walked off, she went back to the Christmas party and David went back and stole the other one. And then he took this big picture of the Three Degrees off the wall and put it under his jacket and walked out. I mean, it was huge. It had to be eight by six feet! Had it hanging on his wall for years. Yeah, those were big ones at the Gallery: ‘Dirty Ol’ Man’ [by Three Degrees], ‘The Love I Lost’ [by Harold Melvin and the Bluenotes], ‘Brothers Gonna Work It Out’ [by Willie Hutch].

So you were into the Philly sound?!

I loved the Philly sound, but then everyone did. They made great records. Early Trammps: ‘Love Epidemic’, ‘Zing Went The Strings Of My Heart’.

What would you do with a record?

Well, this whole third turntable thing. I had a dream one night that I was playing ‘Girl You Need A Change Of Mind’ and then I brought in ‘Love Is The Message’ and I used to have this jet plane sound effect that I would play on ‘Love Is The Message’, and I had a dream that I was playing all of these together. So I brought in my turntable from my house and I hooked it up. No-one else was doing stuff like that. I had vision and creativity. There’s creativity about the music and then there’s creativity in the big picture. You know, noticing the lighting, noticing the decorations, noticing the way the sound sounds, and then taking the music beyond what it is and making it something better.

Did you use two copies of the same record to do your own mixes and things?

Well actually, Richie Kaczor was playing in Hollywood and he did this thing one night with ‘Girl You Need A Change Of Mind’. He offset two copies so it was going, ‘Girl you need a change, girl you need a change…’ It was in perfect time and sync. It was just fabulous, it was incredible. But one of the things I would always do, was if there was a break on a record, I would extend it back and forth. Or if the beginning was hot I would play the beginning over and over, and then bring in the song.

What was the crowd, was it all drawn from people you knew?

Do you know Stephen Burroughs?

No.

Okay. Stephen Burroughs was a fashion designer. Willie Smith, very famous fashion designer. Calvin Klein. I mean these were people who came when they weren’t really big. I mean we had at one point Mick Jagger and David Bowie there one night, Patti Labelle. But it wasn’t a club that was about celebrity. They were ‘off’ if they were there that night.

Right. They were looking for a really hot spot to dance and people said go to the Gallery.

I heard a story about you dressing up in the stars and stripes.

The Bicentennial was the first time I did it. It was the Fourth of July and we had a big party and we made this flag of our logo and I dressed up as the Statue of Liberty making these faces as they read the new Declaration of Independence according to the Gallery, where everyone has the right to dance and party as they choose. As we unfolded the flag everyone screamed and all the lights went out and I had this crown on and it lit up. And one of my friends started screaming, ‘They’re electrocuting him!’ She was tripping her tits off and they were like, ‘Calm down Monica.’

How long did Gallery go?

Till ’77.

And you were there the whole time?

Yeah, I partially owned it. The beginning of 1978 our lease renewal came up and my brother said, ‘You know, you are totally strung out on drugs,’ – which I was – ‘and I feel you’re killing yourself and I can’t watch this. Are you gonna clean up, or we gonna close the club?’ I was an arrogant little drug addict, I just said: ‘Close it! I don’t give a shit.’ And he did. Then I went over to Buttermilk Bottom for a year. I went to Europe and when I came back I had lost my following. Then again, I was still on drugs and still all fucked up.

Tell me about your studio work. You were one of the first DJs to move into the studio.

Well, Kiss Me Again [by Dinosaur]. What other DJ did a record in 1977? No-one. There were no DJs producing or mixing then.

So how did that come about?

Arthur Russell used to come to my club and he came up to me one day and he said, ‘We should do a record.’ I was like, ‘Get the fuck out, leave me alone.’ Then I started to think well this is a good idea, and I went into the studio but I didn’t know anything, and he basically did everything. By the end I might have worked on a mix more than the recording process.

So what was he looking to get from you?

You know, now that I look back on it, it was just financing! [Laughs] I financed the project. But I think he wanted to get from me, input on creating an exciting dance song.

So it was your knowledge of the dancefloor and how they would react?

Right, right right. And what happened was I ended up really pushing the record, too, and actually this record would have gone much further than it did, had it not been for Ray Caviano who took over all promotions for Atlantic when my record came out. He hated it and it had sold 100,000 copies already. Records today don’t sell that but back then they did.

Did that lead to more remixing and production?

Well, they picked up our option on Sire, and this is how drugged out I was, I was sick from drugs so I went to California to recover and meanwhile they’re waiting for the next record and I was like, ‘What record?’ A couple of years passed and I got clean, and that’s when I started doing one record after another. That’s when I did ‘Pick It Up’ [by Sofonda C], and all those other records. That’s really when I did my major body of work. ‘Tiger Stripes’. Honey I have a version of ‘Tiger Stripes’ [by Felix] that is killer!

Frankie Knuckles and Larry Levan got their start at the Gallery. How did you meet?

Robin came to me and said, ‘This guy Frankie wants to work for us.’ I said there are 600 people here and we don’t have anyone working for us, maybe it’s a good idea. And then Frankie came to me one week and said, ‘I know this kid. He’s a little crazy but he’s very talented, could I bring him?’ I said, ‘Sure.’

That was Larry. I was very close with Larry. We lived together; we were lovers for a while. I just loved him as a person. We would just roll down laughing sometimes. He did the decorations and he worked the lights and we would go on the off nights and play some records. I would tell him what David Rodriguez taught me: don’t cut off the lyrics on a song, try to make the tempo match, and so on. I still think the selection is more important than the mix. I don’t know where all these people think every record has to match. I think that is the most retarded thing I’ve heard of.

Why do you think Larry’s myth grew so potent?

Do you want me to say the politically correct thing?

No I want you to say the truth. He was very much your protégé, wasn’t he?

That’s it. You said it. I didn’t.

What I didn’t realise until recently was that he had the ear of Frankie Crocker, who was looking to him to suggest records he could break on the radio.

And why did that happen? He was the only really successful black DJ. They became friends, I think, because of the race issue. But you know I don’t know. You can’t do this body of work and not be talented. I mean, just look at his mixes alone: ‘Can’t Play Around’ [by Lace], ‘Nothin’ Going On But The Rent’ [by Gwen Guthrie], ‘Is it All Over My Face’ [by Loose Joints]… Some of these records are classic forever. Incredible work. There are certain things he did – ‘Heartbeat’ [by Taana Gardner] – that will live forever. You can’t not be talented and do stuff like that.

Did a Garage night ever compare to a night at the Gallery?

I certainly don’t think so. I mean it was just a whole different vibe than it was later on. I mean a night at The Gallery, people went insane. They lost their fuckin’ minds. I mean there wasn’t anything that wasn’t off limits. People at the Garage were very controlled…

Really?

Oh yeah. They were screaming but not like Gallery. Larry was a very controlling person. If I saw it getting out of hand on the dancefloor, I would think, ‘Oh this is cool, show me how I can go further than this, ’cos this is out of control.’ That would scare Larry. He would try to bring it back.

“  Studio 54 fucked the whole thing up. It was about the body, it was about the look, it was about sex. It was so self-centred. ”

How did you first meet Steve Rubell?

First I met him at Enchanted Hellhole.

You mean Enchanted Garden, in Queens?

Yeah. Billy Smith, who was a promotion man at 20th Century Records, invited me out to Enchanted Garden which is in Queen’s. But when we get out there, it’s got a golf course, and it’s beautiful. And the thing was, from there, you could see Manhattan, a great view, and it was wonderful. Steve Rubell comes to the table and introduces himself and says, ‘This is my fiancée, Heather.’

I’m like, ‘Fiancée! You have a fiancée?’

I was very confused at that point.

Then Steve asks [adopts hilarious Rubell accent]: ‘Would you consider playing here?’

‘Okay.’

But I asked for $150 a night, when everyone else was getting $75.

So after the evening was over he gave me a lift back home. After that he was at the Gallery every Saturday night. A year later I finally couldn’t take travelling out to Queen’s every week. They were offering me coke and stuff, but by that stage I wanted heroin. I tell you though, honey, Steve Rubell was no longer straight when I got done with him. That fiancée? Fell to the curb shortly after.

But then he opened Studio 54 which was a total atmosphere. Like the Loft. The thing is they added this other dimension: it was about the body; it was about the look; it was about the drugs; it was about sex. Clubs before that, it wasn’t really the raison d’etre. And it fucked the whole thing up. It was so self-centred. All these things on Studio 54 recently, and not one of them has talked about the DJs. Never mentioned Richie Kaczor. I only played there for the three or four months, but I was so strung out on heroin, and I was only playing during the week. Richie took it over at weekends. He was a fabulous DJ. ‘I Will Survive’? He made a hit out of it. One of the reasons Studio happened was because he was so incredible and they never even mention him.

A lot of people said that Studio 54 was kind of the Antichrist…

It could have been me.

But there were good things about it as well, there was a lot of money spent on the lights and the sound…

Steve didn’t start out that way. He started out with a very pure motive, he was into the music. But then it all got fucked up. I mean ’cos he started doing a lot of drugs, but I think what fucks you up most is the fact that you set your goals and then you attain everything immediately, and where do you go from there? It’s like at 16 I wanted to be a DJ and I wanted to be the best, and at 17 here I am owning my own club and where do you go from there? So the first year was the most fabulous year. That movie is about the last year. And it’s very dark and kinda…

After it all imploded?

Right. And Studio wasn’t like that, it was bright, it was white, in the beginning. You coulda been outside in the sun. It was bright light in there. It wasn’t dark. The guns went off and you’d collect confetti, you’d be able to put your hand on the floor like this and pick up an inch-worth of confetti and glitter and everybody had glitter all over their hair and it’d be sticking to people’s skin. It was really incredible. But he changed and the club changed.

You had fun there right?

I had a ball. But I only played the first four or five months.

It epitomised everything people didn’t like about disco.

It just made everything so commercial and out there.

With the Disco Sucks thing and Saturday Night Fever being released and everyone hates Studio because they can’t get in. Did it feel like the party was over?

The party was over. I mean in the beginning there was no word ‘disco’. If you were going to David’s you were going to the party, if you were going to Tamburlaine or Limelight you were going to the club. I hate the word ‘disco’ to this day. Studio 54 opening brought what was an underground incredible party into the mainstream and basically ruined it.

And I guess the sad thing was the party’s over and people started dying. That was round about the same time.

The reality of HIV. That’s right. And people didn’t have time to go out dancing. People were very concerned with taking care of their friends.

Was it something that suddenly came into view?

All within like two years. It was like, ‘Oh my God.’

© DJhistory.com

GALLERY 50

FIRST CHOICE – Doctor Love

THE O’JAYS – For The Love Of Money

HAROLD MELVIN & THE BLUENOTES – The Love I Lost

HAROLD MELVIN & THE BLUENOTES – Bad Luck

THE TRAMMPS – Love Epidemic

BETTY WRIGHT – Where Is The Love

LYNN COLLINS – Think

SYLVESTER – Mighty Real

UNDISPUTED TRUTH – Law Of The Land

MARTHA VELEZ – Aggravation

WAR – City Country City

LOLEATTA HOLLOWAY – Dreamin’

SOUTHSHORE COMMISSION – Free Man

THE SUPREMES – Up The Ladder To The Roof

LOLEATTA HOLLOWAY – We’re Getting Stronger

ISLEY BROTHERS – Get Into Something

THE JACKSONS – Forever Came Today

LOLEATTA HOLLOWAY – Hit And Run

THE SUPREMES – Let My Heart Do The Walking

TEDDY PENDERGRASS – You Can’t Hide

DOUBLE EXPOSURE – Ten Percent

DOUBLE EXPOSURE – My Love Is Free

THE TRAMMPS – Disco Party

THE TRAMMPS – That’s Where The Happy People Go

REALISTICS – How Can I Forget

DIANA ROSS – Love Hangover

ZULEMA – Giving Up

EDDIE KENDRICKS – Date With The Rain

LABELLE – What Can I Do For You

GLORIA SPENCER – I Got It

TEMPTATIONS – Law Of The Land

TRAFFIC – Gimme Some Loving (live)

DINOSAUR – Kiss Me Again

BONNIE BRAMLETT – Crazy ’Bout My Baby

JEANNIE BROWN – Can’t Stop Talking

MARGIE JOSEPH – Prophecy

EDDIE KENDRICKS – Girl You Need A Change Of Mind

JAMES BROWN – Give It Up And Turn It Loose

LABELLE – Messin’ With My Mind

BARRABAS – Woman

MFSB – Love Is The Message

DOCTOR BUZZARD’S ORIGINAL SAVANNAH BAND – Cherchez La Femme

MFSB – TSOP

MIDNIGHT MOVERS – Follow The Wind

THE B-52’S – Dance This Mess Around

THE B-52’S – Rock Lobster

BLUE MAGIC – Look Me Up

MIGHTY CLOUDS OF JOY – Mighty High

DOROTHY MORRISON – Rain

FANTASTIC JOHNNY C – Waiting For The Rain

Compiled by Nicky Siano

RECOMMENDED LISTENING

VARIOUS – Nicky Siano’s Legendary ‘The Gallery’