Disco Lives!

On Friday, Jan. 30, AIDS Action Committee of Massachusetts will host the 70s Dance Party, a benefit for the longstanding not-for-profit. The costume party is sure to feature plenty of vintage outfits, classic disco hits, and some of the LGBT community's most ardent supporters. But spinning at the center of it all is DJ Maryalice, who has long been one of the gay nightlife scene's most familiar faces.

"I was bitten by the disco fever," says Maryalice of revisiting the music that inspired her life in the business. The DJ essentially began spinning on a whim while a waitress at Provincetown's Governor Bradford restaurant, taught herself the ropes (not to mention, the equipment) and by 1982 was hired as resident DJ at P-Town's legendary lesbian hotspot, the Pied Piper, now known simply as The Pied. She's helmed the decks as resident DJ at The Boatslip since 1994, and has appeared at one time or another at just about every gay club, major party and community event worth its weight in glitter and mirrorballs.

Maryalice says she made the first move to gig at the 70s Dance Party, and even donated her services to be part of an important fundraising opportunity. We spoke with her about her favorite disco-era memories, her recollections of the tragedy of the AIDS epidemic, and the role of nightlife in spreading awareness and education.

First things first... can you believe that the 70s were over thirty years ago?

Tell me about it! The funniest thing is, I play 70s music at The Boatslip ... and I sometimes think, "Oh my God, most of these people weren't even born! I wonder how they heard it!" I grew up with this music. I think, "I'm old enough to be your mother!"

And yet, some of your earliest memories as a DJ must seem like they happened just yesterday.

Oh, I was frightened to death [when I started spinning]. I think one of my most vivid memories was playing Gary Numan, "Cars." All of a sudden the music stopped. I was looking around going, "What just happened?" Well, I picked the needle up off the record! I still can't get that memory out of my head. [Laughs].

You've worked with AIDS Action Committee in the past. Considering how active you were in the gay clubs throughout the '80s, I imagine you must have seen the devastation of the epidemic firsthand.

For sure. Everybody was sick. And back in those days, you got sick and you died. It wasn't a prolonged thing. ... I remember people would come down [to Provincetown] to have funerals. Sometimes at the end of Tea Dance we would have a memorial service where we'd toss someone's ashes into the sea. It was a period that seemed to go on forever. At the time, I never thought it was going to stop. It seemed like the end of it.

Did you really believe that?

I don't have much imagination. I thought it was going to be that way forever. I thought, "Oh my God, everybody is going to die." And you were afraid for yourself. We take for granted the information that we have now, but in the beginning we didn't know anything about the disease. You didn't know if you were dancing in the middle of the crowd, and people were sweating on you ... or someone sneezed on you ... were you going to get it?

Do you think that gay nightlife played a role in educating people about the disease?

I think it played as big a part as everybody else. We were together, and we were talking about it. The media certainly wasn't helpful in getting the message out; in fact, to the contrary. The good thing about the clubs is that we came together as a group and informed and educated each other. We helped each other. I think it was a high point for nightclubs and bars.

To the point of education, do you think that younger members of the LGBT community are unaware of the continued risks posed by HIV/AIDS?

That's a loaded question! I could be totally wrong, but my sense of the young people is that they don't care if they catch it because they think they're not going to get sick. ... I think they don't understand because you frequently don't know [if someone has HIV/AIDS]. Only now in my 50s do I realize that life isn't short, and I'm not invincible. At 20, you think, "If I catch a cold, I'll get over it. They might get sick, but they look fine so it can't be that big a deal. Someone is going to come up with a vaccine, anyway. Someone is going to cure me." Well, ask someone who takes medication; it's not exactly like taking an aspirin every day. My sense isn't that they [young people] don't know about it, but that they don't think it's going to hurt them. ... I think it's that cavalier attitude. I think it's sad, because you think people should be smarter, and I don't know if it's a function of youth or just where we are in science.

At least this event will be an opportunity to raise funds and to educate. But one last question: what can we expect you to play?

Oh, the quintessential songs. "I Love the Nightlife," "Disco Inferno," "Boogie Wonderland," and of course, the national gay anthem, "Y.M.C.A." [Laughs] Oh, I remember when that song used to come on, and everyone would look at the gray-hairs throwing their arms up in the air. Everyone would say, "I'll never be the one doing that!"

And now?

They're all the old people doing it! [Laughs]. It makes me smile. The truth is, I love my job. Some people take the nightclub thing so seriously, but to me, the 70s was all about fun.

AIDS Action Committee's 70s Dance Party will do the hustle on Friday, Jan. 30 from 8 p.m. to 12 a.m. at Boston Marriott Copley Place, 110 Huntington Ave., Boston. Tickets $25 through www.aac.org.