From the mid-1970s until the early ’80s, the dominant style of popular music in America was disco. The style began in New York City and spread to larger urban centers on the coasts. By the late ‘70s, even Americans in small towns knew what the “hustle and bump” was, and disco themes were routine in movies and television shows of the period.

The legendary rock band KISS even made a heavily disco-influenced album, Dynasty, in 1979.

Disco’s unique birth was a product of the times. On the one hand, the drug use and gay influence of the lifestyle associated with the music was a result of the 1960s counterculture. But the musical style itself was actually a protest against the music of that era—disco music was heavy on electronic beats and rhythms, as opposed to the traditional rock music of the counterculture.

Despite its quick ascent to the top of American pop culture, by 1982 it was safe to say “disco’s dead.” Actor Judge Reinhold even wore a shirt that said “Death before Disco” in the 1981 hit film Stripes.

So, what brought about this sudden—and at times violent—reaction to disco?

As with many other trends, disco became the victim of its own success. Interestingly enough, anti-disco sentiment came from both urban and nonurban segments of society. In the cities, the emergence of punk and new wave challenged disco on both style and content. Fans of punk and new wave craved a return to more a traditional and “do it yourself” type of music; furthermore, they viewed the attitude and lyrics of disco as vapid and superficial.

In Middle America, where bands like Lynyrd Skynyrd remained popular, the fad of disco quickly subsided and the heavy drug use and libertine sexuality often associated with the music were considered foreign. These somewhat disparate anti-disco groups coalesced to form a growing anti-disco attitude that was seen on T-shirts (as described above) and ironically in film and television. Though film and television had promoted disco in its early days, they were using the music style as a punching bag by 1980.

But if you could point to one particular date when disco began to die, it was July 12, 1979.

On that day, the Chicago White Sox were hosting their rivals, the Detroit Tigers, in a doubleheader at Comiskey Park. Anyone who showed up to the game with a disco record was admitted for the low price of ninety-eight cents as part of a promotion hosted by Chicago shock jock DJ Steve Dahl. Between the games, Dahl planned to oversee a controlled explosion of the disco records in a “Disco Demolition Night” event on the field.

Dahl set off the explosion and then all hell broke loose!

About seven thousand fans rushed the field, took bats and balls from the dugouts, tore the grass from the field, and ripped chairs out from the stadium. The Chicago Police riot squad came to the stadium about an hour later and made thirty-nine arrests. The White Sox were forced to forfeit the second game, but the true importance of the disco riot was the impact it had on American pop culture.

More than ten years before the World Wide Web came into existence, images of the Comiskey Park riot became viral on television screens across the nation and the idea of anti-disco riot became a meme. “Disco Sucks” T-shirts became popular with young people and, in short order, the culture changed.

Two years after the Comiskey Park riot, disco truly was dead.