The Village People keep that campy “Y.M.C.A” spirit alive

Melissa Schorr

Friday, July 25, 1997 | 9:19 a.m.

Is it really fun to stay at the Y.M.C.A.?

It might be if your hosts were the Village People, the campy costumed icons of the '70s, who could even make the era of disco balls, flared pants and platform shoes sound appealing.

"The '70s were the last great time had by all," says David Hodo, who has played the construction worker for the past two decades.

"People ask us to tell them about the '70s,' " he explains. "It seems wild to them. It was wild, but when we were living it, it didn't seem it -- it was just the way we lived. It was a fabulous time. I miss the carefreeness of it, pre-everything, pre-AIDS.

"Of course," he adds drolly, "it only looks fabulous because the '80s were so dreary."

Still, no one was more surprised than the Village People to find their '70s anthems re-appearing at college frat parties and sports stadiums.

The New York Yankees' seventh-inning stretch maintenance crew began delighting fans by spelling out Y.M.C.A. while cleaning the field.

Soon, stadiums across the country, including the Thunder at Thomas & Mack Center, were inviting the band to play post-game concerts. "Y.M.C.A." is also a staple at Las Vegas Stars baseball games.

"Every team calls us and says, 'You'll never guess what we do at intermission?' " says Hodo, who can guess.

Despite the Y.M.C.A.'s dismay that their claim to fame was being stuck in the chorus of a pop hit, Hodo maintains that "we were the best thing that ever happened to the Y.M.C.A. Audiences love to do the 'Y.M.C.A.,' " he says. "And 'Macho Man' is also a popular song in the sports arena."

Ironic, because the band's original intent was not a paean to straight masculinity, but was instead a campy send-off of the gay male ideal -- a point lost on many fans.

No sweat off his chiseled brow, says Hodo: "As long as they're having fun with it. That's what tongue-in-cheek is all about."

So what does the group think is driving the revived wave of nostalgia?

"Everything is so angst now," he says. "There is a reason for this angry music -- kids today have everything on their shoulders. But our music from the '70s was from a much happier time. People today don't see performers trying to have a good time on stage. They are connecting to that."

Still the renewed attention -- from magazine spreads to websites demonstrating the "Y.M.C.A." dance -- hasn't really affected the band's schedule.

"They talk about us 'coming back,' " scoffs Hodo. "A comeback means the audience comes back. We've been touring non-stop for 20 years."

He adds: "It did surprise us. We thought disco was dead -- even though we've been dragging our rear ends all over the world."

The renewed scrutiny can be a little unsettling.

"It's embarrassing," says Hodo. "You see old Merv Griffin shows, or my butt goes wiggling by on old music videos, which look pretty primitive now -- like family home movies."

But the resurgence in everything '70s, from John Travolta as leading man to Donna Summer tours, has also pushed the band back into the playlist. They recently played L.A.'s Greek Theater and were called upon to entertain for the Moroccan prince's 26th birthday.

But there are not too many '70s musicans that can be dragged out of hibernation to tour once again, he explains. "At the time, it was studio musicians much of the time," Hodo says. "We were one of the first to put a face on disco."

Just like today's Spice Girls, the group was formed, or more precisely, was cast, 20 years ago by producer Jaques Morali.

The first "Village People" album had been produced by studio singers, a common practice at the time, but now Morali needed male performers to put a face and a voice in front of the sound.

Newspaper ads drew the original cast of six, who were slotted into characters representing visions of masculinity -- the cop, the biker, the soldier, the Indian, the cowboy -- and the construction worker.

"I was lucky," notes Hodo. "There's no upkeep to my costume, just jeans and flannel shirts. The others had to deal with leathers and feathers and the cleaners."

At the height of their fame, the band starred in a movie, "Can't Stop the Music," and was selling millions of copies of records.

Since the disco days peaked and ebbed, the band has survived by touring and releasing "greatest hits" compilations and re-mixes of old works.

While the band, composed today of three original members and three replacements, still has the endurance to do the high-energy show, they haven't fallen prey to the Mick Jagger syndrome of the aging rock hero, still gyrating after all these years.

No, true to their roots, the Village People are the first to mock themselves.

"We talk about when we have to come on stage in walkers," says Hodo. "I never intended to hold a job this long -- I've coined myself 'The 'World's Oldest Go-Go Boy.' "