For someone who contributed so much to the world of dance music and to the art of DJing, it is perhaps surprising that Walter Gibbons has never attained the cult status achieved by those such as Larry Levan, Frankie Knuckles, and David Mancuso. This was a man after all, who pioneered mixing techniques that many would regard now as the fundamentals of turntablism, popularised the use of reel-to -reel edits, and mixed the first commercial 12-inch record. His remixes, characteristically experimental and abstract, (such as his ‘’Salsoul 2001” remix, “Salsoul 3001’) produced some of the finest music to come out of disco, and arguably provided an early blueprint for its spiritual successor, house music. Whilst his career took a serious downturn after his decision to become a born again Christian, Gibbons, the consummate professional with a genuine passion for the music he played and created, undoubtedly deserves a place in the pantheon of disco legends.
Gibbons was born on 2 April 1954 and quickly became infatuated with music. By age 18 he had amassed a collection of over 1,500 seven-inch records. He began his DJing career by spinning at private house parties, before playing briefly at a club called Sanctum Sanctorum. Gibbons emerged on the then embryonic underground club scene after he began working at Melody Song Shops in 1973. A slot at the Outside Inn, a gay club located in Queens New York soon followed, where his remarkable mixing talent became quickly apparent. Those who witnessed these early sets remember the skill with which Gibbons was able to extend the percussive breaks of tracks such as Rare Earth’s “Happy Song” and Jermaine Jackson’s “Erucu” by using two copies of the same record and looping the drums to give the impression of one continuous track. Whilst Gibbons was not the first to utilise this technique, (DJ Kool Herc, the godfather of hip hop, had also been performing similar feats in the Bronx), the precision with which he was able to execute his mixes was unrivalled. Gibbons’ ability did not go unnoticed, and somewhere between late 1974 and 1975 he moved to Galaxy 21, a late night venue that remained open well after most spots had closed. Opening at 4.40am, Galaxy 21 provided Gibbons with the perfect setting to develop and express his creativity behind the decks. His genius lay in his unique combination of creative spontaneity and flawless technical precision, which was light years ahead of his competitors, many of whom relied on pre-rehearsed mixes. Many of his peers would go down to the Galaxy after finishing their own sets, and were blown away by the skills on show. François K, interviewed in Tim Lawrence’s excellent Love Saves The Day describes Gibbons as having “this uncanny sense of mixing that was so accurate it was unbelievable,” whilst Nicky Siano, who briefly played at the Galaxy, describes him as “an instinctively great DJ… he just knew what to play next.” In a short space of time, Gibbons from virtual anonymity, Gibbons had risen to become the DJ’s DJ – testament to the outright skills that he possessed.
Having captivated both the dance floor and his fellow DJs with his wizardry behind the decks, Gibbons had also begun to develop his reel-to-reel editing, replicating his most successful live edits by recording his records on tape and then slicing them up. It is generally accepted that Walter was well ahead of his peers in this regard, and most suggest that he was the first DJ to edit in this way. One such edit grabbed the attention of Salsoul Records head Ken Cayre. The record in question has since gone down in music folklore. Originally released as a 7-inch single, disappointing sales of Double Exposure’s “Ten Percent” had lead to the release of a longer 12-inch version exclusively for DJs. Gibbons obtained two copies of the test pressing and set to work on his own edit. The result, in the words of Cayre, was a “fantastic edit and the reaction in the club was phenomenal.” Cayre immediately asked Gibbons he could replicate it in the studio and he agreed. Gibbons had a unique hands-on approach in the studio, sitting at the console himself rather than instructing the engineers. The studio engineer present, Bob Blank, recalls that Gibbons in fact “wound up editing the whole thing and handing it in… it was very impressive.”
The mix itself highlighted Gibbons creative unorthodoxy. Gibbons first edit was to place a percussive break before the vocals had even begun, itself a highly unconventional move stylistically when contrasted with the primary remixer of the time, Tom Moulton. Moulton’s remixes tended to smoothly draw out a track’s natural progression, rather than making any dramatic alterations to the fundamental structure. In the words of Tim Lawrence, Gibbons’ “purely percussive aesthetic” was revolutionary. The track, which ended up containing three breaks, became an instant classic and entered into music folklore when it became the first 12-inch record made commercially available. What makes the achievement even more spectacular is that Gibbons was given just three hours for the entire process and paid $185 for his efforts. Sales of the 12-inch doubled that of the original 7-inch, but more importantly Gibbons had shown record labels that DJs were more in tune with dance floors and could therefore produce commercially successful records. “Ten Percent” had not been Gibbons first commissioned remix either, having previously done an uncredited 12-inch remix of Jacki’s “Sun… Sun… Sun…” on the slightly obscure Pyramid records. The mix itself was atypical of Gibbons’ dance floor-orientated style of remixing - characteristically heavy on percussion and featuring an extended looped break.
As Gibbons remixing career began to take off, his DJing career entered a period of instability. Already angered by Galaxy 21’s decision to hire a live drummer (François Kevorkian), Gibbons stormed out mid set after it emerged that the owner had installed a volume limiter behind his back. He was convinced to return, but left for good at the end of 1976 once he discovered that his sets were being secretly recorded and sold. The move proved fatal for Galaxy 21, as most punters left with Gibbons, and it closed in early 1977. Gibbons moved to Better Days, having released a string of remixes for Salsoul including “Nice ‘n’ Nasty” and “Salsoul 3001”(a remix of “Salsoul 2001”). Almost a new track in its own right, “Salsoul 3001” highlighted the way in which Gibbons stripped back and reconstructed tracks in a way in which they, in the words of François K, “explore the very remote confines of rhythm and music.” At the heart of Gibbons remix is the relentless Latin beat, giving the track a sense of frenetic urgency, and its undulating orchestral peaks, which Gibbons deftly tailored for the dance floor. Gibbons followed this with what many have described as his pièce de résistance, his remix of Loleatta Holloway’s “Hit And Run.” Released in 1976 as part of the album Loleatta, the track had largely been ignored by DJs in favour of “Dreamin.” Gibbons asked Cayre if he could remix the song, to which the studio head, showing a remarkable degree of trust in the DJ, agreed. Marking the first time a studio had given a DJ complete creative freedom to rework a track. The DJ dismembered the track completely, replacing Holloway’s vocals and the verses with her soaring vamping, bringing the irresistible groove of Baker, Harris and Young’s rhythm section to the fore, backed by thumping percussion. Gibbons’ refusal to think in commercial terms meant that he had never felt bound by artistic conventions, and so was not afraid to completely strip down a track to what he felt were its essential, most danceable elements, even if it brought him into conflict with its original artists. Despite initial Salsoul hesitancy, the record was released and sold over three hundred thousands copies, a vindication of Gibbons exceptional remixing style.
Despite the success of his remixes, Gibbons DJing career continued to spiral. His stay at Better Days was not a long one, and slots at the Monastery, Fantasia, Pep McGuires and Inferno followed a depressingly similar pattern. Gibbons was in part responsible for his short tenures, since his unbending commitment to his own personal style and his left-field selections often brought him into conflict with owners and crowds alike. In spite of this, Walter continued to be a highly in demand remixer. Stunning remixes of Love Committee’s “Law & Order” (labelled “a blueprint for the future of electronic dance” by Tim Lawrence because of the pounding kick drum and infectious Latin percussion track) and a remix of Tom Moulton’s own remix of “Just as Long”, which many (Moulton included) hold to be superior to the Moulton mix due to its elevation of the outstanding keyboard track. Throughout 1977 and into 1978, the quality of Gibbons’ remixes remained top draw, with tracks as diverse as Sandy Mercer’s teasing groove “Play With Me” to Loleatta Holloway’s powerfully emotive “Catch Me On The Rebound” all remixed with love by the diminutive DJ. Perhaps the standout remix of this period was his soaring remix of Bettye LaVette’s “Doin’ The Best That I Can,” a eleven minute tour de force that begins with an exquisite instrumental build (itself built upon an irresistibly foot-stomping percussion line), into the stripped back, yet still deeply impassioned vocals before Gibbons unleashes his trademark embellished instrumental breaks, which feature some unusually dark, avant-garde synth. Gibbons had well and truly cemented his reputation as the most exciting and adventurous remixer on the circuit.
In 1978 however Gibbons became a devout born-again Christian, an event that would have serious repercussions for both his DJing and remixing career. He attempted to use his platform as a DJ to spread the message of Christianity, even going as far as to refuse to play tracks that he felt were ungodly. As the musical boundaries of his previously all-encompassing sets shrank into solely gospel and Salsoul records, Gibbons was sacked from first Buttermilk Bottom, and then Xenon (itself a double blow, having been hired by his close friend Tony Smith). Eventually Gibbons evangelicalism began to affect his relationship with Salsoul. Things came to a head when he refused to finish a remix for Instant Funk’s “I Got My Mind Made Up” unless the lyrics were changed. When it became apparent that this wasn’t going to happen, he walked. Salsoul hired Larry Levan to finish the mix, and in the process launched Levan’s own superstar status as a remixer. Whilst the record credits Levan as the sole remixer, the 12-inch remix bears all the hallmarks of a Gibbons mix. The multiple percussive breaks and the prominent place of percussion within the mix are quintessential Gibbons, as are the delayed introduction and sparse use of the vocals, alongside the stripped back instrumentation. As Gibbons’ relationship with Salsoul began to deteriorate, he still delivered a number of stellar mixes, most notably the 1979 remix album Disco Madness, the first time a label had released an album of mixes by a single remixer. Amongst the album is Gibbons’ underrated remix of The Salsoul Orchestra’s “It’s Good For The Soul.” Gibbons transformed a nonchalant, smooth instrumental groove into a pounding peak hour floor filler. Emphasising the rhythmic essence at the heart of the record, Gibbons stripped away much of the scratch guitar and sweeping orchestration, choosing instead to open the track with a thumping percussive break whilst bolstering the pulsating Latin percussion to almost riotous levels. Gibbons himself also makes an appearance, enthusiastically crying out his own ad-libbed encouragement to the dance floor.
Salsoul had increasingly begun to commission other DJs in place of Gibbons however, as high profile remixes went to Bobby “DJ” Guttadaro, Tee Scott and Larry Levan. After a disastrous reworking of the Robin Hooker Band’s “Stand by Your Man,” Gibbons’ affiliation with Salsoul finally came to an end. He accepted commissions from other labels, including a request from Buddah Records to remix the forthcoming Gladys Knight & The Pips album, Dancing With Gladys. For unknown reasons the album was shelved, but not before Walter had remixed two tracks “Saved By the Grace of Your Love” and,’ “It’s a Better Than Good Time”, described by Al Kent as ‘the greatest piece of work of his career’. Gibbons mix, filled to the brim with dramatic peaks and raw, poignant emotion is truly magnificent, doubles the original six-minute track to almost twelve minutes in total. Yet in a cruel twist of fate, Buddah decided that twelve minutes was too long, instead releasing a six-minute version of Gibbons’ remix. Gibbons intended mix was consigned to a few unlicensed acetates, until the mastertapes were discovered in 2013 in the Sony archives and released as part of Al Kent’s excellent compilation The Men in The Glass Booth.
As his DJ and remixing career ground to a halt, Gibbons resorted to playing house parties and got a job at local record store Rock and Soul. He remained in relative obscurity until 1984, when his remix of Strafe’s “Set It Off” became an underground hit. An unusual blend of wispy vocals and atmospheric electro, it unexpectedly became a cult classic, receiving significant play in clubs such as the Funhouse & The Paradise Garage. In 1987, Jellybean Benitez, who oversaw the soundtrack, chose it to feature in the film The Principal. The track’s lack of mainstream success however prevented Gibbons from a triumphant return to the music business. Arthur Russell, who had collaborated with François K on “Go Bang” and would release “Is It All Over My Face” with Steve D’Acquisto asked to collaborate with Gibbons, eventually releasing “Schoolbell/Treehouse” and “Let’s Go Swimming”, alongside a typically left field remix of “Go Bang”. Perhaps more significantly, Gibbons’ infatuation with gospel led him to the discovery of the Celestial Choir’s “Stand on the Word”, a track that continues to close sets and bring the house down to this very day.
It was around this time that Gibbons learnt that he had contracted AIDS, and by the end of the decade he was extremely ill. A 1992 tour to Japan, where disco was enjoying something of a renaissance, lifted his spirits and he played some of the country’s biggest venues, including Tokyo’s iconic Space Lab Yellow. Whilst in Japan Gibbons also went to see Larry Levan and François Kevorkian’s Harmony tour, catching up with the pair for what has become an iconic image. Gibbons returned to Japan a year later despite his failing health, and wowed crowds with his unrivalled passion and dynamism behind the decks. Gibbons’ health continued to deteriorate however, and he was now nearly completely blind. He played his last set in New York at Renegayde, throwing back the years to take his transfixed dance floor on a musical journey that encompassed Philly Soul, Chicago house, and just about everything in-between. Speaking to Tim Lawrence, those who attended that night were mesmerised by Gibbons’ ability to “create an uplifting, spiritual and positive atmosphere” with a “pure and beautiful musical aura.” He spent his final weeks living alone in a YMCA, passing away on 23rd September 1993 aged just 38. It was a sad end for a man who contributed so much to the world of dance music and brought joy to thousands of dancers worldwide.
Walter Gibbons, for all his personal flaws, was an undeniable genius. Although his fervent born-again Christianity alienated many of those close to him, and perhaps prohibited him from gaining the immediate recognition his achievements undoubtedly deserved, his impact cannot be understated. He may not enjoy the same legendary status as some of his contemporaries, but technically he was one of, if not THE most accomplished DJ of the era. He revolutionised the art of remixing to the extent that “his innovations were judged to be so important they became routine,” as experimental remixes pushed the boundaries of disco and laid the ground work for what would become house. Whilst his brilliance may never reach the same cult status as Levan’s, he left behind an indelible musical legacy that will continue to captivate and enthral dancers for generations to come.