
Dancing Queen
Seventeen and gliding across the floor, the rare disco record that sounds like joy and ache at once.

Seventeen and gliding across the floor, the rare disco record that sounds like joy and ache at once.

Big Bank Hank auditioned outside the pizzeria where he worked, rapping lines borrowed from Grandmaster Caz's notebook.

Cut in leftover studio minutes with Sammy Davis Jr. waiting outside, it flopped until Blackboard Jungle put it under the credits.

Romanthony's vocal pushed through auto-tune over a slowed Eddie Johns disco sample, filtered until the chorus explodes.
Bambaataa welded Kraftwerk's Trans-Europe Express to a Roland 808, and Tommy Boy paid Kraftwerk a dollar per record.

Roger Troutman's talk box over a Joe Cocker sample, and Shakur's first single after Death Row sprang him from prison.

Herbie Flowers doubled upright and electric bass for a session fee, and Bowie's old sax teacher played the closing solo.

Edwards' bassline turned up on Rapper's Delight within months; the settlement put Chic's names on rap's first pop hit.

Dre's beat was offered to D12 and Rakim before 50 Cent wrote to it and held number one nine weeks.
Dr. Dre produced it, George McCrae supplied the sample, and Snoop's unhurried drawl became the West Coast blueprint.
Producer Jimmy Miller opens it on cowbell, and the single arrived in Britain the day after Brian Jones died.

Jerry Wexler danced the Jerk across the Stax floor until the band pushed the backbeat onto beat two.

A dembow riddim from Luny Tunes, an uncredited hook from Glory, and a place in the National Recording Registry.

Chucky Thompson built it on the Isley Brothers' Between the Sheets, and Biggie made charm sound entirely effortless.

Rodgers' guitar, Pharrell's vocal, Nathan East on bass, and disco walked back onto the radio wearing robot helmets.

Gonzalez built that shrieking hook from his own distorted voice, then let James King's saxophone close the record.

Ten minutes captured in one take; Ficca thought it was a rehearsal and Verlaine refused Andy Johns another go.

Kizart's amp fell off the car, Phillips stuffed the blown cone with paper, and distorted guitar entered the language.

The Runaways passed, so Jett recorded it twice herself; the second version spent seven weeks at number one.
Gardiner found the riff wandering under apple blossom, and Bowie sings behind Iggy at Hansa by the Wall.

Six studios, eighty-two takes at the guitar part, Ronson collapsing in the studio, and fourteen weeks at number one.
A lounge gig, a fake name, Bill Martin, and every regular at the Executive Room written into a verse.
A remix that swallowed its own original: number two in America five weeks, four at Britain's top.

Moroder's four-on-the-floor, Jeff Baxter's rock guitar solo bolted on, and the first female rock vocal Grammy.

Four-on-the-floor from a Billy Preston jam, harmonica by Sugar Blue, found busking in Paris, and their last American number one.

Gorham and Robertson's twin leads on a track the band nearly left off Jailbreak; Kentucky radio saved it.

Don Was suggested welding a fifteen-minute jam to a shouted chorus, and Cindy Wilson's tin-roof ad-lib stayed in.

Jimmy Ellis over eleven minutes of Philadelphia rhythm, a flop in 1976 until Saturday Night Fever made it a hit.
Car horns and a jackhammer in the instrumental break, a garbage can for percussion, and the Spoonful's only number one.

The Temptations sang backup, and the bass line James dismissed as silly later won him a Grammy through Hammer's sample.

The Dust Brothers built it around a Mantronix sample, and Beck's two turntables and a microphone became a catchphrase.

Steve Porcaro's demo reached Quincy Jones only because a cassette auto-reversed, and it took Carousel's place on Thriller.

Dre's instrumental sat titled Fragile for months before it was renamed Family Affair and took six weeks at number one.

The Neptunes flipped Chuck Brown's "Bustin' Loose," and Nelly rode it to number one and the first male solo rap Grammy.

Those African-sounding chants are invented gibberish; Richie had no time for a translator and no reason to care.

Jabara reportedly locked Summer in a hotel bathroom with a cassette until she agreed; it won the Academy Award.

StarGate looped Michael Jackson's chant from Wanna Be Startin' Somethin', and Rihanna took it to number one in ten countries.

Flowers called it the story of trying to meet someone in a club; Keuning's hook does the flirting.

Crunk's breakthrough, produced entirely by Lil Jon, stalled at number two and drove the album past two million copies.

Twenty-two weeks crawling up the Hot 100 before number one, RedOne's synths announcing the pop decade ahead.

Five weeks at number one, reportedly the first chart-topper built entirely in Pro Tools, and Latin pop's door kicked open.

Guitars pushed to sound like synthesizers, and a Roman Coppola video that borrows its neon from Tron.

Auto-Tune used as an instrument rather than a fix, T-Pain producing himself, Yung Joc riding a snap beat.

Four singers, one Rockwilder beat, and Missy Elliott turning a Labelle cover into 2001's best-selling single worldwide.
Raf's Italo-disco original topped Italy's chart first; Friedkin directed Branigan's video and MTV demanded cuts before airing.

Scott Storch built it on a Donna Summer interpolation, and Beyonce turns a club come-on into pure command.

Six weeks at number one, and it began with Ruess singing the chorus, tipsy, at the Bowery Hotel.

Scott Storch's beat, three weeks at number one, and a hook that instructs the room not to dance.

Warren wrote it for a Motown kung fu film, Perry swapped the drum machine for live players, DeBarge soared.

Sonny Digital and Metro Boomin built the beat, Drake jumped on the remix, and a weeknight became an occasion.

Number three on the Hot 100, co-produced by Beyonce, the last single cut with Luckett and Roberson.

Stewart heard Jorge Ben's Taj Mahal at Rio Carnival, absorbed the melody unwittingly, and signed the royalties over to UNICEF.

DJ Montay's beat, T-Pain on the hook, and the first song to sell four million digital copies in America.

Fourteen straight weeks atop the R&B chart, T-Pain's Auto-Tune at its peak, and a Grammy for the pair.

Written first as a Doublemint gum jingle, then extended by Polow da Don into a wedding-aisle staple.