Danny Tenaglia photo by William Noglows.
Alan T photo by Karli Evans
Audio By Carbonatix
No matter the industry or the passage of time, one rule endures: friends support each other. On July 5, the audience at Downtown’s Floyd will see this axiom in true form when Floyd’s doorman and artistic force, Alan T, invites his long-time friend, Danny Tenaglia, to the decks. The event will be part of the party series Divorcée, a party spearheaded by Alan (Tibaldeo) T, Adam Brien, and Maram Ballol.
According to its organizers, the monthly event is “inspired by music, fashion, and liberation” and celebrates “souls who’ve divorced themselves from the ordinary and found freedom through sound, individuality, and connection. The headliners are hand-selected and steeped in the “culture of disco and house.”
Enter Tenaglia, whose pedigrees have been written time and again by New Times. And to be joined by Alan T, whose unmistakable vocals have appeared on some legendary pieces of electronic music, for one night of extravagant and fierce house, disco, and techno in an intimate red room, is a step back in time.
Recently, New Times hosted Alan T and Tenaglia together over Zoom to recount their forty-year-long friendship, the meaning of being together for the party, and, to quote a work of Tenaglia’s, the better days “when things would be so smooth, people were dancing, people were smiling, and the music was pumping.”
New Times: Can you two briefly discuss where you first met?
Danny Tenaglia: You want to talk about Monti Rock or Teddy Pendergrass, because we’re all over the place.
Alan T: We originally met through Todd [Saunders], he was the thread. He owned Yesterday & Today [Y & T] Records on Bird Road and he was a proponent of the labels and A&Rs, and he was a go-to guy for everything — especially during Winter Music Conference season. Everyone went there to shop. And Danny would go there for hours on end. You used to stay with Todd?
Danny Tenaglia: Yeah, I would stay with him, and I had the key to the shop. I would pull an all-nighter and have a marathon by myself. I still talk to Todd almost every day. When I lived in Miami between ’85 and ’90. He ended up building Y&T’s dance floor.
Alan T: When things come up, we talk a lot. The dance floor opened in ’90?
Danny Tenaglia: Yeah, it had to be ’90 or ’91.
Alan T: And then Danny and I sort of became pen pals, AOL — I have messages Danny wrote me that are hilarious, and it was just back and forth. We sent each other packages and tracks.
Danny Tenaglia: Back when that meant something.
Alan T: And we would go out and go places and shock them. People would say, “Oh my God, they’re here.”
Danny Tenaglia: You’re taking me back. I’m thinking of even just hanging out and going to the Copa or that place DJ Bob Miro worked at, what was it called?
Alan T: Backstreet.
New Times: The dynamic between you two is different. Danny, you seem a bit more reserved.
Alan T: He’s not, though. That’s a super persona!
Danny Tenaglia: I only get animated when I’m with someone like you. I don’t have many people from those old-school days in my life anymore. I don’t have many gay friends that I used to keep in touch with. I moved to North New Jersey, got so deep into the gigs and studio work, and wasn’t as much of a participant when I got into my forties and fifties, and now I’m sixty-five.
Alan T: I remember back in the day, he was an all-nighter person — but none of us slept anyway. If you were in Queens and up to meet at 3:30 in the morning, he would be ready to get a broccoli rabe on 51st Street from working on his Elements album. I remember you working on “Baby, Do You Feel Me.”
Danny Tenaglia: The restaurant was called Da Damaso. I was a fanatic. It was pasta with sausage and broccoli rabe.
Alan T: We would drive around listening to things and just talking and going across the 59th Street Bridge from your loft on 34th in Long Island City. Then he moved closer to me in Miami. He was ten blocks away from my house. That was an old stomping ground, and Danny was back and forth from gigs. But he was scared to come to my place because of the possums.
Danny Tenaglia: *laughs* I got to tell you, I live in the woods now, and I saw a massive black bear a couple of days ago. I was mesmerized; I was stunned that I live here.
Alan T: He wouldn’t even come in the driveway because of the possums.
Danny Tenaglia: I hate possums.
New Times: People in this industry come and go. But do you have a memory where you said, “Now that is a true friend?”
Alan T: When you endure the elements, pardon the expression — I shouldn’t even be here. It’s not easy. *Alan T says with tears.*
Danny Tenaglia: It’s like we’re relatives, and then we caught up because we related so much to music and the lifestyle of clubbing and living through an era when we lost so many friends. It was devastating.
Alan T: We relived it, though, by finding records. When we’re together, we find the classics, like Ann-Margret. But I always shed a tear. To think about how the scene would be if some of these people were still alive. A big part of the scene is now from memory.
New Times: What is in store for the Divorcée party?
Alan T: I’m super excited. It’s not for the masses. It’s a big DJ, small room. I think he’s going to like it more than the Terrace.
Danny Tenaglia: I’ve never been a fan of the Terrace. I love the concept, but I never felt a connection to the layout or to being high up. I’m not a fan of playing in daylight.
Alan T: Everyone brings their A-game to this party. We’ve been dying to have Danny play here, and the owners have been wanting to do it. With Danny, it’s history. He’s going to take it up a notch as he always does. It’s the roots of the past, present, and future. And people need that now more than ever. They need education. We used to hunt for the liner notes in records.
Danny Tenaglia: Liner notes? No one reads those now. They’re not seeing who engineered it, who co-produced it, or who played the keyboards. Back then, we could credit the intern, the co-engineers, and the people who brought the coffee. Alan, what are the hours at Floyd, by the way?
Alan T: We can go on forever. It’s going to be busy, and you can do whatever you want. It’s going to be Danny.
New Times: When was the first time you two worked an event together?
Alan T: At Groove Jet. That was the year Danny’s “Be Yourself” remix came out in 1999.
New Times: Alan, what does it mean to have Danny play?
Alan T: A lot. The staff hears me talk about it all the time. The managers who have been here since the opening know the importance.
Danny Tenaglia: It’s just a reunion. I approach it as if it were a Winter Music Conference kind of thing, where there are locals and people I might recognize. I think people haven’t heard me in an intimate environment like that in a long time.
Divorcée. With Danny Tenaglia, Adam at the Door, and Pressure Point. 11 p.m. Sunday, July 5, at Floyd, 40 NE 11th St., Miami; 305-608-2824; floydmiami.com. Tickets cost $14.99 via dice.fm.
