we recommend that you read this chapter while listening to some 70s disco tunes

The Gay Wrestling Group was opposed by some gay centre users as an unacceptable intrusion of macho culture that ran against the whole ethos of gay Liberation 'gender bending' politics. Challenging male power and masculine stereotypes was insisted upon. A sewing bee/knitting circle was set up in opposition. It met on the same evening and would knit in the front coffee bar as the grapplers trooped in for their grunt and groan sessions.

Despite earlier attacks from hostile forces the South London Gay Community Centre flourished and within the first year had become a very popular social centre and meeting place with a well-attended weekly disco, a movement and modern dance group, Brixton Faeries theatre, a wrestling group and even a sewing bee. The centre also organised several campaigns including the 1976 Gay Pride march jointly with the Campaign for Homosexual Equality (CHE). 

Dancing Queens

In the days before computer-driven sound systems the weekly disco at the Gay Centre may be seen nowadays like an amateurish exercise in creeky improvisation. Forty five rpm vinyl records scratchily played on a rickety portable deck with a double turntable provided the means of entertainment with flashing, colourful disco lights illuminating a dark and damp basement providing the ambience. Given most centre users were unemployed the entrance charge was minimal and the disco devotees were not put off by lumpy walls of peeling plaster or a ceiling of flaking paint. But this spirit of dancing queenery and comradeship was not shared by all. The carefully built up collection of about one hundred records 'disappeared' in mysterious circumstances and it was assumed that a centre user lacking any sense of community values had stolen them. Nevertheless this temporary set back did not deter the weekly gatherings of disco deviants.  

Derek Brand ran the gay centre disco diligently for 18 months in the pre computer-driven days of twin decks and vinyl records.

Derek Brand ran the discos with great efficiency and dedication for eighteen months made possible by the donation of the record deck, microphone and "lots of lovely records". Moving from the ground floor to the basement provided more space for dancing and socialising:

"The disco equipment at that time was quite basic consisting of a twin record deck and a separate audio tape player/recorder linked to an amplifier and speaker. Operating meant alternating between the deck playing a record and when that finished switching to a pre-recorded track on the tape recorder".

Despite the basic nature of the disco equipment compared to the present era of CDs, Mp3 players and computer generated sound systems Derek ran a professional and efficient set up and the discos were well-attended.

Derek managed to squeeze a small allowance from the Gay Centre's precarious budget to buy new records and was diligent in contacting record companies to supply promotional copies to add to the selection already donated by individuals. The music ranged across soul, funk, reggae and disco which was just beginning to come to the fore at that time but one song caused a furore of anger:

"I remember there was a break in at the Centre and some records were taken. I contacted Gay News who printed an article about this. A particular record that I played at that time, “Fattie Bum Bum” by Carl Malcolm (1975), caused a stir as it was deemed to be offensive to women."

The record in question was ordered to be destroyed because, so it seemed, it ridiculed a woman who was deemed to be sexually unattractive because of her size. This was a radical misinterpretation of the song's contents by the 'furious' gay liberationists because the singer was in fact praising the charms and attractions of a woman with the fuller figure. This hasty and erroneous judgement, indicative of the political temper of the gay centre liberationists at the time, made them quick on unyielding dogmatic action and slow on careful analysis.

Derek first went to the South London Gay Community Centre in March1974 shortly after it had been squatted. He discovered the centre’s existence after seeing an article about its opening in Gay News. He was attracted to the possibility of meeting other gay people in a relaxed and informal setting. This was especially important given that as a seventeen year old he was ‘underage’ and prevented from going to pubs and clubs.

He was quick to make many friends at the centre including Bill Thornycroft, Ian Townson, Tony Smith, Malcolm Greatbanks, Gary de Vere, Colm Clifford, Alistair Kerr, David Callow, John ?, Linda ? and many others. It was here that he met Tom, a fellow Scot, who later became his lover.

Derek stayed at a squat/commune when he first came to London but he felt that he could not trust some of the people there when he experienced instances of homophobia. He moved to another squat. Bill Thornycroft later helped him out a great deal by providing a room in his house when he was stuck for a place to live.

The weekly discos encouraged people to come together in a less stressful atmosphere than the usual overcrowded and expensive ‘straight gay’ establishments. Much of the music in gay clubs in the mid seventies was geared towards dancing culminating in the late 1970s with disco music that eventually permeated the straight club scene. The emphasis was very much on the joys and pleasures of hedonistic excess. Again given the high level of unemployment it was important that a minimal admission charge was made. People brought their own supply of alcohol and enthusiasm and the dingy basement was enlivened by the hubbub of music, flashing multi-coloured disco lights and gyrating bodies dancing to scratchy records. Pleasure, camaraderie, drugs and friendship were the aims with the ever-present allure of sexual encounters and relationships.

Grapplers: The Gay Wrestling Group and Sewing Bee

 Don Black offered his services as a professional wrestling coach and wished to established a group at the Gay Centre. This caused raised eye brows and disapproving frowns in opposition to the proposal. At a weekly collective meeting a heated discussion ensued as to whether or not to allow this to happen. The ardent gay liberationists, notably Gary de Vere, Alastair Kerr and Bill Thornycroft, were against the setting up of such a group though Gary later felt that they were being too dogmatic and should have agreed to the proposal. Arguing that it was an unacceptable display of macho posturing and the kind of male power that oppresses both women and gay people they saw the group as a small intrusion of Patriarchy invading a gay space. However they were outvoted by those who were described by the better educated gay liberationists as 'untogether', 'disorganised', 'nerds', or just plain 'disruptive elements'. They never quite got round to calling them an underclass or the dregs.

The wrestling group went ahead and proved to be a popular event with Julian Hows, Rowland and Graham Mumford among others enthusiastically joining the grapplers. In political opposition to this intrusion of unacceptable masculinist oppression the sewing bee in the coffee bar area at the front of the gay centre knitted and sewed defiantly as the would-be wrestling students filed in. The stitching and mending of clothes were seen as an antidote to this unwarranted display of male piggery and male chauvinism and a direct challenge to sex role stereotypes of masculine behaviour. Bill Thornycroft's judgement on the wrestling group took a different view: "They just wanted to get their hands on each other."

Greek Positions

Andreas Demetriou, in traditional Greek costume, taught the modern dance and movement classes at the gay centre. He modelled some of the movements on the male figures on ancient Greek vases. We didn't dance naked though (!!??). Andreas took part in several Brixton Faeries theatre productions.

Andreas Demetriou’s dedication to teaching modern dance and movement, synthesising many disciplines from Tai Chi to Yoga and an inspired use of dancing figures from ancient Greek vases, bore fruit as he organised one of the first groups to use the Gay Centre. His experience in the heterosexual world of dance and movement had proved to be a negative one. He felt the need to establish a purely gay male dance group with the aim of harnessing the already existing enthusiasm for dance among gay men. He knew many performers who were closeted gays and felt that both he and they were being compromised by having to dance in roles that were more appropriate to heterosexual male dancers with their female counterparts. The practice of men being able to dance with other men would strike a double blow at rigid heterosexual stereotypes and enable the possibility of tenderness between men rather than masculinist aggression and competitiveness.

The dance classes were well attended and provided a setting for experimentation in new methods of using the body/mind/spirit to expand the sense of what can be achieved in reordering and reshaping gay ways of relating to the world. Rejecting the usual pugnacious and competitive sportiness of masculine pursuits the emphasis was very much on individual self-development within a co-operative environment. To develop in this new direction involved a great deal of hard work and discipline. The term ‘dance’ scarcely conveys the kind of strenuous aches and pains gone through in order to arrive at a rewarding level of suppleness and careful co-ordination of limbs and senses to move with subtlety and grace.

But what did Andreas’ strict instructions to ignore the aches and pains achieve? Clarity of mind and a definite sense of well being for some but there were other things. Helping to forge a gay identity away from the usual run of things allowed the most diverse group of gay people to work together who otherwise would have had very little to do with each other. In a communal setting a kind of cultural ‘direct action’ was carried out requiring great effort from all involved to search for a new way of acting upon each other and the world and helped greatly in the process of coming out - not just as gay but also physically and mentally. Literally a touching experience. It was something of a gamble in that dance and movement could easily have substituted for wider political involvement but in practice the traffic between the two meant that those involved in the cut and thrust of campaigning against gay oppression were better able to face the fray with greater determination and freshness of vision because of the dance classes. This was not simply individual self-indulgence and contributed greatly to new and exciting cultural horizons.

For others it was just good fun and helped to build a sense of high self-esteem with other gay men and provided a valuable opportunity to socialise in less alienating surroundings than the ‘straight gay’ commercial scene. But more than that. The dance classes allowed the participants to fly the forbidden colours of men touching men. Many found this to be exhilarating and liberating, breaking down the fetters of years of inhibition. Others were more reticent. Some of Andreas’ dance movements and sequences were incorporated into drama productions by the Brixton Faeries theatre group. Andreas gave his services free which was important in an area of high unemployment.

Memories of the Gay Centre