India, July 19 -- On the evening of July 12, 1979, a large crate full of disco records exploded in the centre of Chicago's Comiskey Park stadium. The detonator, dressed in army fatigues and a combat helmet, was local rock DJ and anti-disco crusader Steve Dahl. The event was called Disco Demolition Night. After the explosion, the crowd stormed the field and set fire to any discs that had survived it. All this was part of a backlash gathering steam across the US. Many called July 12 "the day disco died". In July 2026, that obituary looks wildly premature. Disco has quietly slipped back into the mainstream. Its syncopated basslines underpin chart-topping tunes by Dua Lipa (the '70s-inspired Dance the Night, among others), Tyler, The Creator (Sugar on my Tongue; which owes a lot to Italo-disco and funk) and Beyonce (Cuff It and Summer Renaissance, among others). Retro Indian tracks are being rereleased by archival labels such as the LA-based Naya Beat, being spun at bars and clubs, and appearing on the soundtracks of blockbuster films such Dhurandhar: The Revenge (Usha Uthup's Ramba Ho) and series such as Bait. Born in the warehouses and underground clubs of early-1970s New York, disco was more a social experiment than a specific sound. The scene united Black, Latino and queer communities, as well as artists, immigrants and working-class New Yorkers, on the dance floors of parties such as DJ David Mancuso's The Loft. "Race, color, belief and sex were minor details in the dance," Michael Gomes, a writer and a regular at the Loft parties, tells historian Tim Lawrence in the latter's 2003 book, Love Saves the Day: A History of American Dance Music Culture, 1970-1979. That vision of the dancefloor helps explain both disco's explosive rise and the vehemence of the backlash against it. The John Travolta-starrer Saturday Night Fever played an interesting role in that arc. Released in 1977, it earned over $237 million worldwide and turned what had been an underground subculture into a global phenomenon, but it also flattened disco into a caricature of mirror balls, polyester suits and clownish moves. Meanwhile, the genre was dominating the charts. Gloria Gaynor's I Will Survive and Village People's YMCA (both 1978), for instance, sold over 12 million copies each. As more music from the genre flooded the market, critics lashed out. Disco was called "formulaic" and "soulless". But historians argue that the root of the anger ran far deeper, reflecting anxieties around race, sexuality and changing ideas of masculinity. Then came Comiskey Park. After that, labels were wary; artists moved on. The genre didn't die, though. It retreated underground. In Chicago, DJs such as Frankie Knuckles distilled disco's grooves into what would become house (a genre he famously called "disco's revenge"). The genre's rhythmic DNA seeped into boogie, garage, and electronic dance music. "Disco has influenced so much contemporary Black American music," says Raghav Mani, a DJ and founder of Naya Beat Records. "It may have gone through these peaks and valleys, but the soul and heart of it remained very much alive." Europe embraced the synth-driven evolution called Euro-disco. In Japan, the sound fused with jazz, rock and funk to give rise to city pop. Nigeria and Ghana folded it into Afro-funk and highlife. Across the Caribbean, it collided with soca and calypso. In India, films played up absurd stereotypes. But at the same time, Bangalore-born producer Biddu helped invent Euro-disco in Britain, producing Carl Douglas's Kung Fu Fighting (1974) before returning to South Asia for Aap Jaisa Koi (1979) and Nazia Hassan's Disco Deewane (1981). The current revival can be traced, at least chronologically, to electronic duo Daft Punk's smash hit Get Lucky, a breezy disco-pop track that reached #2 on the Billboard Hot 100 list in 2013. Alongside, nu-disco bands such as Soulwax and Aeroplane helped the genre get back onto the charts. Nu-disco proponents have found work producing for artists such as Lady Gaga, nudging the sound of contemporary pop towards funk and disco. Contemporary filmmakers and storytellers then began to deploy disco as emotional shorthand: for glamour, longing, identity, nostalgia, liberation, or collective joy, benefiting each time from the genre's undeniable sense of propulsion. "I think the sound represents a more hopeful bygone era," says Mani. "When people could come together as a community. When the future felt brighter." It is also still simply great music that seems to suit every scene....