By Susan Schwartz
I fear silent discos may be the dance equivalent of a dinner party where those invited sit at the table glued to their phones.
In Brisbane they have become so ubiquitous that you can catch silent discos at the local services club, the church, and in suburban backyards.
Some may blame it on the boogie, but as a disco tragic who is not afraid to admit it, I think silent discos may be a weirdly comical experiment that reflects the social isolation of the times we live in.
For those who haven’t been to one, headphones are used so participants can select from three different music channels.
You’re physically in the same room, but each person can be dancing to a different beat.
Some may call this socialising, but to me it’s not just the shared beat that is missing.
Studies have shown that dancing to the same beat is socially bonding because it releases endorphins.
So if you are listening to different music, where is the social interaction?
What is the point of dancing in a parallel universe?
Where is the collective energy?
It seems so fragmented that I may as well stay home, throw some of my own headphones on and jump around like Tom Cruise in Risky Business.
Proponents argue silent discos allow for a more personalised music experience and reduce noise pollution.
The first events specifically labelled as silent discos are credited to a couple of Dutch DJs in 2002.
Disco itself is derived from the French word for nightclub – “discotheque.” It was subsequently shortened to “disco” in reference to the type of clothing one would wear to these dance nightclubs in the mid-60s.
In the 1970s when disco first really sprang to life, it represented the liberation of minorities – from gay, to black, and latino people and later, women.
The most notorious ones are now the stuff of pop culture legends – Loft and Studio 54 in New York.
Today, there is no way the sound from a set of headphones can compete with the musical experience of mega subwoofers pounding out beats that pulse through the dance floor.
Part of a fun night out is reliving it the next day – like barely being able to sound out a whisper from having to shout over the music the night before.
Call me a party pooper but give me a real party any day – where the collective roar of the crowd vibes with the sound of the music.
If you must try one of these social experiments, here are some silent discos happening around Brisbane where tickets are selling fast:
Southbank, The Wheel of Brisbane on August 30.
Currumbin Beach, September 13.
St Johns Cathedral, October 10.
You can even DIY and hire your own silent disco.
