Eddy De Clercq, the Godfather of Dutch house and dance culture, co-wrote his autobiography with Martijn Haas: Let the Night Never End. A story about the birth of the DJ scene in the Low Countries, the rise of house music and nightlife with raging parties full of sex, dancing, art, booze, swag and snuff. Against the backdrop of advancing gay emancipation. All based on De Clercq's life and appetite for experimentation.
Advice for future interviewers. Never - even if it is well-intentioned and embedded in an awkwardly worded opening question - drop the term 'spinning records' in front of Eddy De Clercq (Ghent, 1955). He pulls a devilish grin: "May I just say one thing. I find that an incredibly stupid disrespectful expression. I'm not saying that you, as a journalist, are just scratching around in a notebook, am I? DJing is a profession, a vocation, and it is hard work. A good DJ is a shaman who creates atmospheres to thrill people."
Noted.
Over three years, De Clercq and Haas scraped their way through history. Let the Night Never End is full of tasty anecdotes about hedonistic parties, decadent clubs and the genius DJs, musicians, artists, designers and weirder types De Clercq was inspired by. De Clercq came up with the juicy stories (and mostly wrote these himself). Haas guarded the big picture.
It is cleverly written. De Clercq manages to convey his passion for the music with beautifully evocative language, even to yours truly as a notorious house hater. For instance, he recalls a legendary moment in the set of fellow house pioneer Larry Levan:
"As soon as I am on the dance floor, I first hear a typical Garage effect during the rhythm break in the track 'The Whip' by Eddie Kendricks, the former lead singer of The Temptations. Levan filters the bass out of the song, then the midsection, so that only the top-high tones can be heard from the small tweeter speakers of which there are a hundred or so scattered above the gigantic dance floor. An ultra-thin hum like that of a swarm of insects is only audible somewhere high above your head. For a moment, the audience loses its entire orientation to the music. Then the rock-hard bang of a whip suddenly sounds from the sound boxes: whoooshstjak! The sound effect circles the entire dance floor before the song's full beat returns step by step. I slowly hear the midrange re-enter, the bass sinks in deep and to top it off, Levan also turns on a sub-bass, producing leaden growling decibels that make your stomach turn over. The effect is overwhelming, the body gets moving, there is no other choice." (p. 136)
The mommies and daddies of Daft Punk
Martijn Haas (Nijmegen, 1971) previously delved into the underground and music history of the Netherlands. With City Arts Guerrilla, Art, Music and Terror '78-'81 (2010), he described the rise of the anarchist art punk terrorists SKG. He then highlighted the roots of Amsterdam street art with Dr Rat, godfather of Dutch graffiti (2011). And he gave insight into the ideals of Mike Bibikov, the maniacal political performance provocateur in the post-punk era, with Bibikov for President (2012). All these books breathe the atmosphere of a changing time, which also reflects Haas' own love of music.
Haas had been walking around with a new idea for a while. A story about the rise of modern disco, DJ culture and house music. Haas: "Think of the mommies and daddies of Daft Punk. A number of books have already been published about that. Such as Last Night a DJ Saved my Life (Bill Brewster & Frank Broughton, 1999), Turn the Beat Around: A Secret History of Disco (Peter Shapiro, 2006), and Love Saves the Day: A History of American Dance Music Culture, 1970-1979 (Tim Lawrence, 2004). But these focused almost exclusively on the US scene. I wondered what it was like in the Netherlands. Now house is pretty much Holland's number one export product. Some things have already been written about this later success, but I wanted to find out what the roots of it were. That's how I ended up with Eddy."
The Bible without the Old Testament
De Clercq was immediately excited. "I realised that over the past 30 years I have told countless stories about that time, but that they have often been wrongly written down with all kinds of quotes taken totally out of context. Now I saw it as an ideal opportunity to reproduce all those stories myself. As I experienced them."
Haas: "Eddy is an incredibly good storyteller with a very specific outlook. As a Belgian in the Netherlands, he has always kept the outsider's view. So it seemed like a good idea to hang the whole history of music on his personal story. It gives you a taste of the very beginning. Anyone with even the slightest interest in Dutch dance culture cannot ignore this book now. You can't read the Bible without the Old Testament, can you?"
In love with vinyl
From the moment De Clercq throws his first francs into a Ghent jukebox, he is in love with vinyl. This becomes an obsession that will lead to an insanely large record collection of some 40,000 pieces, spread over two continents.
To illustrate. This is a small part of De Clercq's treasure trove:
Tout le monde
Music merges with his DNA. As a teenager, he threw himself into the wild, glamorous nightlife of Belgium, Paris and London. At 17, he got his first DJ gig at Le Club, a Brussels disco. In the late 1970s, he moved to Amsterdam. After a series of legendary club nights in theatre De Brakke Grond, introducing Dutch audiences to disco, three years later he opens his first own club, De Koer, where he combines disco with new wave, punk and live performances by tout le monde from the Amsterdam art circuit. In 1983, Paradiso gave him carte blanche to organise the monthly dance night Pep Club. Besides funk, soul, popcorn and afrobeat, he introduced the first house experiments here. Together with Peter Giele and Arjen Schrama, he founds Club RoXY. As artistic director and programmer, he is involved with this iconic club from 1987 to 1991. After leaving, he travels the world as a freelance DJ, producer and musician. Always looking for new music.
Just for the time frame. Take a look below at this episode of VPRO Firma Onrust about the glory days of the house. With a starring role for De Clercq.
A Golden Harp for 'faggot noise'
The RoXY is now known as a house temple (which went up in flames during Pieter Giele's funeral party in 1999). But in the early years, De Clercq faced a lot of opposition in his attempts to warm up the Dutch to the new sounds of (acid) house, Detroit techno, electro and other electronic dance music. House was dismissed as faggy noise, the halls remained empty. Belgium was way ahead of its time back then, says De Clercq. "The Dutch always watch the cat out of the tree enormously. Only when there is money to be made with something do they get on board. In the beginning, when I played the first house classics, the vast majority of the audience stayed at the bar. Then they did occasionally come up to you with one of those questions: "What exactly is this style called?" Really, the most amazing records went straight into the sell-out bins at the Amsterdam import shops. And that while house was already a huge hit 200 kilometres south in the form of New Beat."
It was not until 1989 that the phenomenon finally broke through and De Clercq got his bittersweet right. Ten years later, at was awarded a Golden Harp by the Buma Cultuur Foundation for his career as a DJ and pioneering role in Dutch dance culture. Haas: "One of Eddy's great merits is that he fused different cultures as early as the late 1970s. First the gays danced with the straights, then they secluded themselves for a period, and then the straights came to dance with the gays. It was in that last phase that Eddy made his big impact."
Businessmen in expensive suits
What he thinks of house music anno 2015? De Clercq shrugs: "Dance has become a brand like Coca-Cola or Volkswagen. It has been seized by businessmen in expensive suits, who market it as a Dutch export product. So that's no longer interesting for me. I still look for adventure. For instance, for years I have been fascinated by South Africa, a country with amazing, unknown musical traditions. That is where I have settled now. There is still a lot of beauty to discover. To be honest, I find most nightclubs rather boring now. I mostly see hipster types standing on the dance floor taking selfies - that's no way to go out, is it?"
Let the Night Never End is now available