Hedonism & Chinese Food & Chuck Berry of Course!

New York at its hedonistic height!

I stepped on board my Pan Am flight at London’s Heathrow Airport, going to New York. The cabin crew looked at my ticket and guided me to the cheap seats towards the back of the Boeing 747. As I walked along the aircraft, looking for my seat, I could hear many strong New York American accents. I was excited at the thought that I was going to New York. This was early January 1980, and not only a new year but a new decade and, for me, a new adventure! I found my seat and put my camera bag in the locker above. I sat down and put my belt on. I had visited New York several times before this but was still very excited. I first went there on tour with Bob Dylan in 1978.  But this was different, as I was moving there. I was heading into unchartered territory, but not for the first time.  

When I was a kid, I would see Pan Am planes in films, and I developed a romantic vision of this airline. I may have imagined this, but I seem to recall a film where a Pan-Am seaplane lands in the water somewhere like Acapulco, and it looked like a dream of a scene. Or maybe it was some Frank Sinatra movie where they were flying on Pan-Am. In any event, I longed to fly the globe on Pan-Am, and it was always my first choice.

As I sat there watching the plane fill up with fellow passengers, a cabin crew member walked up the aisle to check on things. I asked if I could have some earphones. I had the rental fee of £2.50 ready for the air hostess, who then handed me the primitive white hollow tube that painfully fitted into your ears and vaguely acted as earphones. They were like a poor man’s stethoscope. Once I had them, I was all sorted and comfy in my seat with a music channel in my ears. The movie on the flight hadn’t yet been announced. In those days, you had to watch the same movie as everyone else. A screen was pulled down from the ceiling around the bulkhead, usually far from your seat. You could hear it through your rented hollow tubes that were supposed to be headphones. The screens were awful.  You couldn’t see much of it, as the light in the cabin made it so washed out on the flimsy screen. However, for me, it was all so exciting. I was a young photographer in the music business, and I loved travelling and meeting people. Every day was (and still is) an exciting adventure. We took off, and I soon discovered my cheap seats were in the smoking section at the back of this Boeing 747. It’s hard to believe it now, but people smoked on planes back then. I spent the next seven hours just daydreaming, coughing and thinking about how life would turn out for me in New York.

The daydreaming stopped when we landed, and I hit the ground running. New York is a fast-paced city. You can't watch your back and daydream at the same time. Back then, it wasn’t like anything I had seen anywhere in the world. New York is unique and was a concrete jungle. We all know it's full of high-rise buildings. However, it felt like danger on every street and around every corner. I was acutely aware of this. The weather hit me as I left the terminal; it was freezing. I got into a taxi and asked him to take me to 320 East 58^th Street, Manhattan. I was given this address by my mate Barry Levine, who was already in the city, and I would stay with him. As we headed from JFK towards Manhattan, I heard a familiar advert on the taxi’s radio for the electrical store ‘Crazy Eddie’. I hadn’t heard this since I was last there, and it added to my excitement and reminded me I was back in New York.

Barry Levine was a photographer whom I met in London. I had done a few shoots for him. One was a cover of a soft porn movie called Electric Blue, where I had photographed a naked Britt Ekland, the Swedish model for the cover. I think Barry got the photo credit, but I was the photographer who did it all. He told me he had done loads of work with ABBA, Kiss and others. Strangely, I never saw him with a camera. I don’t think he owned one or knew how one worked. He may have done, but, in truth, I never saw him take a photo. He was quite a bit older than me and seemed well-connected.

The taxi pulled up at 320 East 58^th Street in Manhattan. I paid the taxi driver, and I walked into the apartment block. I pulled back the large, metal, vintage elevator door and pushed the button to take me to the third floor, and up we went. I then rang the doorbell, and Barry opened the door and seemed pleased to see me. It was then that I realised it wasn’t his apartment. He showed me the couch I was to be sleeping on, which was a surprise to me. When we were in London, Barry told me he had an apartment with a room for me to stay in. The reality was that the apartment was owned by a lovely guy called Peppy Castro. He was a musician and, by all accounts, a great songwriter. I did have a room to stay in, but it happened to be their lounge, and my bed was their couch. I was hardly intruding at all! It was extremely awkward. Peppy and his girlfriend, Diane, came home later that day, and we met for the first time. I have to say, they were very hospitable.

About two months after I had arrived in NYC on the evening of 28^th February 1980, Barry, Peppy, and I decided we wanted a Chinese takeaway. Diane was an air hostess with TWA (Trans World Airlines), and she was away. So, as the youngest by a long way, I drew the short straw, went out into the freezing cold New York winter and walked a block or two to get it. The wind chill hit me and went straight through my clothes. I heard on the radio when I got back into the apartment that the weather in the city felt like minus fifty, mainly due to the wind chill factor. They said it was colder than Anchorage, Alaska, and I believed them, as it was unbearably cold. I have actually, since then, been to the Arctic, and that time in New York was the coldest I have ever been. I returned to Peppy’s apartment, and we ate the Chinese food. I then fell asleep on the couch. That was probably because the cold weather I had endured outside took it out of me, and I was exhausted.  An hour or so later, I was rudely awoken by Barry, who said I should wake up. It was now about 11 pm. I asked what was happening, and he said we were going out and a car would pick us up in half an hour. So, as normal, I just went with the flow and didn’t ask much else. I had a quick shower and grabbed my cameras. Even to this day, I rarely go out without a camera.

We all left the apartment and got in the vintage elevator. I couldn’t stop yawning and tried to wake myself up as we headed down to the street. I suddenly woke up and, at the same time, became less enthusiastic once we got outside into that freezing weather. Barry said, “There it is”. I had no idea what he meant, and then he led the way over the road and approached a rather large stretch limo. The door opened, and we jumped in. Barry & Peppy knew everyone as it was all hugs and kisses, and everyone was very friendly. We sat down, and I immediately recognised Diana Ross. I guessed everyone else was important, but it was dark, and I wasn’t sure who was who and what was what. I didn’t embarrass myself by asking either. As we headed off, Barry said this is my friend and photographer, Danny. Diana Ross was cuddled up to a guy that I suddenly realised was not just Gene, but Gene Simmons of Kiss. Then, I looked at the other guy as everyone was joking and laughing, and I realised that he was Paul Stanley; both were in KISS. The lady with Paul Stanley was Georganne, Cher’s half-sister.  

We then drove downtown while our driver did his best to avoid hitting big, deep potholes. The roads in the city were peppered with them. Steam was also coming out of the many vents and drains on the road that seemed to come from the subways below. It was dark, freezing and eerie. New York was like that back then. It was also very violent and financially broken.  We arrived at 54^th Street, and we pulled up outside Studio 54. I thought, wow, that must be where we are going. I know it sounds crazy, but in these types of situations, I made it a point of not asking where we are going, and as I have said many times, I go with the flow and figure it out as it all unfolds.

As we exited the limo, I saw a massive crowd outside and were attempting to enter this world-famous nightclub. People used to dress to impress and do their best to get into this crazy, hedonistic nightclub. The joint owner, Steve Rubell, his partner or one of their ‘under-shleppers’ would stand by the entrance and select only the people they wanted to let in. Studio 54 was ‘THE’ club to be seen in. I think Steve Rubell and his business partner were sent to jail a week before this night for tax evasion. I don’t recall seeing him that night. Someone said in the limo that this was the very last night and the club was now going to close.

Luckily, the management knew we were coming, so I just hung close to Diana Ross and Gene Simons as we were all ushered through the crowd towards the entrance. I didn’t want to be wandering in at the back of our group and get stopped. Once we got inside, I followed everyone as we were taken to a private table. It wasn’t long before I realised that Chuck Berry was performing a private gig there with his daughter. He came over to our private area and said hello to Diana, Gene, Paul, and everyone. I kept quiet and nodded hello to him. After all, I was very young, British, and dressed to kill. I say, dressed to kill. Anyone who knows me knows I was, and still am, the worst-dressed man in town.

Studio 54 was absolutely full. I mean, rammed with everyone who was anyone, including a young Nile Rodgers, who seemed to be friends with everyone, especially Diana Ross. I know Nile was there because I spoke to him about that night a couple of years ago when we were at Abbey Road Studios together. So, back in Studio 54, I was holding the torch for the completely unknowns.

Suddenly, I spotted Keith Richards (The Rolling Stones) at the bar. I wandered over and sat next to him, and we started chatting. We spoke about music, people, bands and who I had been photographing. We also talked about the big Rolling Stones Earls Court gig I photographed him at in 1976. He told me that he had been spending time in Toronto, Canada. I didn’t know at the time, and he didn’t mention this, but he had been busted in Toronto for Heroin possession and had just performed a benefit concert there as part of his deal with the police. So, I sat there chatting to him and doing my best to hear him over the loud music. I did pick up on the fact that he kept calling me a ‘Cool Cat’. Well, it certainly wasn’t due to my dress sense. I thought this was amazing, and he thought I was cool! I was becoming quite pleased with the idea that Keith Richards of The Rolling Stones thinks I am a ‘cool cat’. Sadly, that didn’t last long; as soon as the barman leaned over and handed us our drinks, he told the bartender he was a, yes, you guessed, a ‘Cool Cat’. I was no longer special as every bloody person he spoke to was a ‘cool cat’. Suddenly, we realised that Chuck Berry was about to take to the stage and start his show. I said goodbye to Keith Richards and got myself down to the front to get some shots of the legend Chuck Berry.

The one and only Chuck Berry performed at Studio 54 in February 1980. I took it, of course! Copyright 1080-2023 Danny Clifford. Absolutely no copying or use without prior written permission.

Chuck Berry was sitting with us after his performance at Studio 54. in February 1980. Copyright 1980-2023 Danny Clifford. All rights reserved—absolutely no copying or use without prior written permission.

The sun was coming up or even going down. 1980 in New York City. Copyright 1980-2023 - Danny Clifford. All rights reserved—absolutely no copying or use without prior written permission from Danny Clifford.

The evening at Studio 54 it ended for us as the sun rose. Barry Levine and a few of us returned to the apartment on East 58^th Street. When we got there, Barry headed into his room and crashed out. I made myself as comfortable as I could on the couch.  I don’t miss sleeping on a sofa, but they were fun days.

I have recently re-connected with Peppy Castro, who lives in New York & Miami, and as I thought he would be, he is a very successful songwriter. Funnily enough, he has written songs for Diana Ross, Kiss and Cher. That’s almost all the talent in our limo that night on 28th February 1980.

It wasn’t long after this, a month or so, that I gave up on the freezing weather in New York, and I jumped aboard a westbound 747 and moved to Los Angeles. The first job I got when I arrived in California was to fly back to New York and work with Kiss. Oh, what fun days they were, and in truth, they still are.

Until the next time, it’s goodbye from me!

Here is a little UK news clip about Studio 54 around that time.