The last incarnation of our black rock band was called the Big Apple Band. We were R&B, fusion, jazz, rock-and-roll. One of the guys I had gone to school with had a major hit record called āA Fifth of BeethovenāāWalter Murphy and the Big Apple Band. People thought that was us, so we changed our name to Chic. I wrote our very first song for this new entity: āEverybody Dance.ā We premiered it at a club called the Night Owl Cafe. From this one club, the song blew up, and the whole scene would go there just to hear this song.
That song and āDance, Dance, Dance (Yowsah, Yowsah, Yowsah)ā became big records in the underground scene and they were popular on the radio. Grace Jones, who was a goddess in those days in the club scene, expressed interest in having me and Bernard Edwards write and produce her next album. This was huge! We only had one record under our belts, and we get a call from Grace Jones? But we had never spoken to her, so on the phone she had this very bizarre vocal affectation. We thought she was putting on this voice for us as part of her code message on how to get into Studio 54. So she says, āTell them youāre personal friends of Miss Grace Jones.ā [Said in a faux-Austrian accent.] We knock on the door and say, āWe are personal friendzzz of Meees Graaaysss Jones,ā and the guy slams the door in our faces and tells us to fuck off. And we say, āNo, no, no. Seriously,ā and we try and get it better. āWeeeeāre personal friendzzz of Meeeesss Graaaaysss Jones.ā We sound like Bela Lugosi. He slammed the door in our faces again. So we went to my apartment and started jamming on a groove, like āAww, fuck off! Fuck Studio 54!ā And it sounded great. Then Bernard, in his infinite wisdom, said, āMy man, you know this shit is happeninā, right?ā And I was like, āHow are we gonna get āfuck offā on the radio?ā So we changed it to āFreak Off.ā And Mr. Hippie, the acid head in me, said, āYou know, like how about we call it āFreak Outā?ā Bernard was like, āWhat does that mean?ā And I was like, āYou know, when you drop a tab of acid, man, and things go bad. Or, how about, you know when you go to a club and youāre freakinā out on the dance floor.ā And Bernard said, āMy kids are doing that new dance called the āFreak.āā
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So we took this negative experience and turned it into a positive one, and we talked about being in Studio 54 dancing this new dance. We took Chubby Checkerās āThe Twistā and Joey D and the Starlitersā ā Peppermint Twistā and made it be about the āFreak.ā To make it sound like it was ours, we called it āLe Freak.ā But we didnāt tell people how to do the dance because we didnāt really know how to do it. It became better to speak of it in this euphoric way, and talk about the experience of doing it. We say, āHave you heard about the new dance craze.ā We assume you havenāt. āWeāll show you the way.ā But we donāt! The dance never became āthe Twistā or even āthe Hustle.ā But the song is a triple-platinum single. And when we were on American Bandstand, Dick Clark introduced us in a really wonderful way. He said, āThis is the biggest song by a band nobody knows about a dance that nobody knows how to do. Ladies and gentlemen, Chic! āLe Freakā!ā It was so right on the money.
Via Vulture