Richard Tucker, 66, Did The Lights at NYC's 12 West and Then at The Saint, Perhaps The Most Mind-Blowing Club Space Ever
Bronx-born, he synced the lights to the music as disco became Hi-NRG and New Wave—and as AIDS cast a pall over the futuristic pleasure dome that was The Saint.
Hey, Caftaners. I want to thank porn legend Hawk McAllistar for the great interview I ran the week before last, and all the new subscriptions that came out of it. One thing is clear from my Substack metrics—you guys LOVE the porn interviews, and there WILL be more coming up. (In fact, I’m doing one on Wednesday.)
I love this week’s interview because a. I love interviewing guys who grew up in NYC and were out and about as young as their teens and b. as you probably know, I am obsessed with all the clubs I never got to go to prior to my moving to NYC in 1991. So how could I not love the handsome (STILL handsome..but damn, as a young guy?) and chatty Richard Tucker? I found him on the incredible Gay NYC 1970s and 80s page on Facebook, where he’d posted about learning how to do the lights at the fabled club 12 West (1975-1980), then taking those skills in 1980 to perhaps the most legendary gay disco (from an architectural and technological point of view) of all time…The Saint, which was open until 1988.
Richard generously said yes to my interview request, and last week we talked for not one but TWO afternoons. What a sweetheart. A Bronx native, he lives there now. How could I not be thrilled by his stories of going to 12 West as young as 16 with his first boyfriend (the first of many), who was also the first person close to him he lost to AIDS? The story Richard told me captures how the innocent hedonism of the 1970s becomes the growing nightmare of the epidemic in the 1980s. (In fact, there is an image described here by Richard from the dance floor of The Saint that captures this transition hauntingly. You’ll probably pick it up.)
I can’t even believe that only two or three weeks ago, I didn’t even know who Richard was, yet now he’s shared this rich story with me. That’s what I love about doing this Substack—all the amazing gents I get to meet, all the vivid tales I get to hear that I wouldn’t otherwise. I can’t believe The Caftan Chronicles is coming up on five years this fall. I’m determined to keep growing it for as long as I can. So if you’ve been around for a while and enjoy it, please consider becoming a paid subscriber.
I’m gonna be honest—as much as I love doing it, I NEED to keep doing it, because almost all my longtime freelance gigs have dried up the past year.
So anyway, here’s the amazing Richard Tucker! I have two chats lined up to do this week, so I’ll almost definitely see you next week!
Richard, thanks so much for talking today. Let’s start at the very beginning.
I was born in the Throggs Neck Houses in the Bronx, by the Whitestone Bridge. We had reeds, frogs and tadpoles—as bucolic and rural as you get living in an outer borough. My mom’s parents were from Barbados and my dad was from the Deep South. He was biracial but we never talked about it growing up. In the winter, he looked white—he could pass.
He was an electronic genius—a wirehead. We had six working TVs in a three-bedroom apartment. I’m the fourth of six kids.
We’re all artistic and mad and crazy. I was a popular kid—very gregarious. I first had gay feelings at age 12 when I saw Lyle Waggoner on the Carol Burnett show.
And of course Sean Connery with his hairy chest. People in my neighborhood sort of knew that I was gay, even though I wasn’t really femme, so you couldn’t easily tell. But I was a good dancer and would provide music for Latin hustle street contests with my 900 boom boxes I had over the years. I was a real Saturday Night Fever showoff type.
When did you come out?
Labor Day 1976, age 16.
You remember the actual day?
I clarified to myself, “This is it,” then started telling people. That summer, I’d already met my first boyfriend, Chris Towns, a beautiful man who first took me to 12 West.
Anyway, he was 24. I was always into older guys. We were together for almost four years, then stayed the best of friends. He died in 1987—the first person I knew to die of AIDS. I took care of him and went through it all with him. I’ve yet to contend with that baggage. I don’t know if I can do it at this point. It’s too late—too many people.
So Chris and I met up the day after we met. I was coming out of the 1 train in the Village to go see the Tall Ships.
He lived in the Village, so I kept going down there. My father asked me, “Are you going down to the Village for what it’s famous for?” I asked, “What’s that?” He said, “You know—boys.” I said, “Uh, yeah.” He replied something like, “Oh God, here we go.” But he was basically fine with it. I grew up in a sexually liberated household. My father would leave out a magazine called Sexology—like Reader’s Digest for sex. But not porn—more like sexual advice. So it lessened the taboo of sex in the house.
And your mother?
She said, “I’ve known since you were nine.”
So what happens next with Chris in 1976?
He takes me to 12 West for the first time that November. I’d never seen a club that large, especially full of just men. That was wild. I was already into DJ’ing and sound, so when I heard the 12 West sound system, how fucking pure and clean the fidelity was, that marveled me. And what they were playing—the gay club DJs would get vinyl four to six weeks before it made the radio.
Can you describe 12 West?
It was right there on the river at 12th St. and West St., near the infamous trucks that gay guys would have sex inside.
It was an old warehouse, one big arena-style room with gray banquettes all around the edge and gigantic throw pillows. The DJ when I first went, Jim Stuard, died in the Everard Baths fire the next year, 1977. He came from the club 1270 up in Boston. The other DJs were Tom Savarese, Jim Burgess and Alan Dodd.
What are some of the tracks you associate with 12 West?
“I Need a Man” by Grace Jones, “Calypso Breakdown” by Ralph McDonald, “Do What You Wanna Do” by T-Connection, “Dancer” by Gino Soccio—and a lot of Donna Summer. Then there was “Love for the Sake of Love” by Claudja Barry. We used to start the night slow, then get faster and faster, then start winding down by 4am, slower and funkier. That was called “sleaze” back then, which transformed into morning music.
What are some iconic sleaze tracks?
Bonnie Pointer, “Free Me From My Freedom.” “La Vie en Rose” by Grace Jones. “Make Me Believe in You” by Patti Jo. “Music of Life” by Cerrone.
Okay. What had you been doing DJ-wise prior to your first trip to 12 West?
I’d played an NYU student function, wheeling in my big Cerwin-Vega speakers. My first professional gay club gig was at 12 West, which I played several nights when I was 18.
How open to nonwhite visitors was 12 West?
I’d say it was 60% white and 20% Black and Hispanic each. There was actually a big gay Japanese contingent that would always dance on the banquettes. They came almost every Saturday. I’d say there were about 20 Black regulars. Once, I caught a manager saying something straight-up racist, which I called him on. It was early in the evening when I was playing. My style was funkier. Not as Black as The Paradise Garage, but not all white and pretty. I heard this manager say to another staff, “Why’s she playing all this jungle music?” Then he turned around and I was right there. And he gagged! I said, “I didn’t know you felt that way.” He very sheepishly apologized. So then I let it go.
But other than that, I never felt [discrimination or bias].