1979 in Music

A crate of records explodes in center field On July 12, a rock DJ detonates a crate of disco records between games of a doubleheader at Comiskey Park in Chicago. At least 50,000 people have shown up for 98-cent admission. Seven thousand storm the field, set a bonfire, and rip up the batting cage. Riot police clear the stadium. The second game is forfeited. On the day of the explosion, six of the top six records on the US charts are disco songs. By late September, there are none in the Top 10.

Fourteen minutes over a borrowed bassline A former soul singer watches a rapper perform over a funk record at a New York nightclub and has an idea. She assembles three unknown MCs, hires a live band to replay the bassline, and records the whole thing in a single take at her new label's studio. The 12-inch runs fourteen minutes and thirty-five seconds. It sells an estimated fourteen million copies worldwide. The songwriter of the original bassline sues, settles, and receives a co-writing credit. A genre that had existed only in parks and block parties now has a commercial product.

A pulsar on the cover, digital delay in the room A producer in Stockport takes a young band's raw post-punk songs and dissolves them in space. He records the sound of a bottle smashing, someone eating crisps, a lift with a speaker whirring inside it. He uses digital delay units to push every drum hit and bass note into cavernous reverb, making a small room sound infinite. The album's cover shows radio pulses from a dying star. The initial pressing is 10,000 copies. The bass player will later say the producer created the band's sound more than the band did.

The first synth-driven number one A song built almost entirely on analog synthesizers reaches number one in the UK in May 1979. Its creator had discovered a synthesizer left behind in the recording studio by accident, started playing it, and never looked back. By September, his solo debut also tops the UK chart: a rock album with no guitars at all, just synthesizers routed through distortion and phaser pedals, producing tones that sound metallic and alien. Synth-pop has a template.

Twenty-one years old and bankrupt A guitarist files for bankruptcy in May, claiming $576,000 in debts against $57,000 in assets. He has earned $38,000 the previous year despite a gold record and arena tours. The problem is his label: it was sold without his consent, and he refuses to record for the new owners. The courts freeze his album. When the dispute resolves, the label creates a new imprint, guarantees him three million dollars and his publishing rights back. The frozen album, once released, goes double platinum.

Six songs in one day, behind the producer's back An Australian band has spent three fruitless weeks in a Miami studio with a producer who is not working out. They tell him they need a day off, sneak into the studio without him, and lay down six songs in a single session. They send the tape to a different producer in London, who agrees to take over. He coaches the lead singer on breathing technique and adds layered backing vocals, something the band has never tried. The resulting album pushes them from clubs to packed-out arenas. It is the last album their singer will complete.

A ladder, upturned chairs, and a double album sold at single price A producer hired to oversee a double album has alcohol problems and unorthodox methods. During sessions in a converted church in North London, he swings a ladder, throws chairs, and pours beer on the mixing desk to create what he calls a rock and roll atmosphere. The band records in marathon 18-hour days, many songs done in one or two takes. The first track they cut is a warm-up song, a cover of a 1959 rockabilly single. The band negotiates that the double LP be sold at a single-album price. It will be named the greatest album of the 1970s by multiple publications.

Bathroom vocals and empty Kleenex boxes After making the best-selling album in American history, a guitarist refuses to repeat the formula. Inspired by punk and new wave, he records some of his vocals in a bathroom with a microphone on the floor, uses empty tissue boxes as percussion instruments, and tells his engineer to turn every knob 180 degrees from where it sits and see what happens. The resulting double album costs over a million dollars, confuses listeners expecting a sequel, and becomes one of the most respected artistic pivots of the decade.

A portable cassette player and the end of shared listening On July 1, a portable cassette player goes on sale in Tokyo for 33,000 yen. It weighs fourteen ounces, runs on AA batteries, and comes with lightweight headphones. The manufacturer expects to sell 5,000 units a month. They sell 30,000 in the first two months. Music, for the first time, becomes truly private and portable. The device will not reach the US for another year, but the future of listening has already shifted from living rooms and cars to the space between a pair of foam ear pads.

Two islands of ska in a grey England A keyboardist in Coventry founds a label named after a Jamaican slang term. Its first releases blend 1960s Jamaican ska rhythms with punk's speed and energy, played by multiracial bands in a country fracturing along racial lines. The debut album arrives in October. A second band on the label names itself after a song by the Jamaican vocalist who inspired the entire movement. By year's end, the label's black-and-white checkerboard logo is everywhere in Britain.

An album recorded onto videotape Rather than recording to conventional multitrack tape, an artist uses a digital audio adapter connected to a video recorder, capturing sound as a digital signal for the first time on a major pop release. The album is a double LP soundtrack to a documentary about plant intelligence, features some of the earliest use of a digital sampling synthesizer, and confuses everyone expecting a follow-up to his string of masterpieces. The label head reportedly complains that of the million copies pressed, 900,000 are too many.

Eleven dead at the arena doors On December 3, general-admission ticket holders at an arena in Cincinnati begin gathering after noon for an evening show. By 7:00 PM, 8,000 people are crushing toward doors that have not all been opened. Eleven concertgoers, aged 15 to 27, die of asphyxiation before the band takes the stage. Fire officials instruct the promoters to proceed, fearing the crowd's reaction to a cancellation. The band is not told what has happened until after their final encore. The city bans festival seating within the month.