Andrea True's life is like a disco ball—shimmering, full of color, and probably made in the 70s. She's the woman behind the unmistakable and infectious disco hit "More, More, More," and she completely owned the dance floors. Born Andrea Marie Truden, this former adult film star turned pop icon left a unique footprint on the music and entertainment industries. But her life wasn't just about catchy tunes or wild parties; True wanted to inject some fun while making people move to her music all over the globe. Born in Nashville, the musical heartland of America, on July 26, 1943, Andrea navigated her way from the conservative backdrop of the music city to the wide-open world of New York City and beyond.
True's musical career was a surprising change from her former life as an adult film actress during a time when breaking social norms was all the rage. In the midst of this cultural revolution, she successfully shifted gears in the mid-1970s, marking herself resilient and adaptable. Don't you just love these stories where someone beats the odds and throws off societal expectations like yesterday's fashion? Andrea even managed to thrive in an era when many women were just beginning to break glass ceilings but still faced incredible limitations.
The music world truly opened up for Andrea True thanks to expatriate tax laws in Jamaica. During the height of the 70s, True was stuck in Jamaica when political tensions arose, and resident figures set themselves up for a harrowing political future. She had cash but needed it to stay in the country. So, she recorded "More, More, More," a quintessential 70s disco piece that rivaled the flashiest productions of its day, with a sexy, soaring rhythm anchored by the magic of the studio band, The Sunshine Band. Kingston, Jamaica, in the 1970s must have felt like hitting the disco lottery.
True’s track hit the airwaves in 1976, capturing the hearts and souls of disco-goers from the Bronx to San Francisco. It climbed up the Billboard charts, reaching number four, and went on to become a certified gold record—an incredible feat, considering who in their right mind thought a porn star could invade all top 40 countdowns? But against all odds, she did.
The choice to break into music paralleled her rejection of being boxed into a single identity. She was pursuing something beyond the status quo and refused to be defined by what others thought she should be. Her success challenged social conservatism and included a bit of rebellion at a time synonymous with counterculture movements, famed for its decadence and widening societal gaps.
Yet, despite her musical success, Andrea True's story wasn’t destined to be a classic rags-to-riches saga. Her fame didn’t translate into long-lasting financial security. As disco's glimmer began to dim in the early 80s, so did her career. By that time, she had gone from selling millions to working odd jobs, including a stint as a telemarketer. It’s the kind of rise and fall that temps Hollywood screenwriters to attempt a biopic, but they often miss the nuance in her story: the struggle of an artist pulled back from greatness.
True also tried returning to the adult industry briefly before opting for music exclusively, sidestepping its refusal of her transition. Many thought transitioning like chameleons was only for actors, but she proved you could switch lanes provided you had the grit and guts. Moreover, what few people know is that Andrea also pursued astrology, believing it offered insights and a way to deal with life's unpredictability. It’s kind of like looking up at the stars the same way we do—a trail of lights marking triumphs against the wails of those not glad to see you go.
Her story buzzes with themes of reinvention and redemption. True showed how society pigeonholes women, yet gives them a chance to spread their wings even when the world isn’t rooting for them. She may have had a short-lived career, but you can't deny how she conquered and reshaped distinct spaces of music and media. Andrea True taught us a lesson in building, breaking, and rebuilding.
People still swing to 'More, More, More' with nostalgia broadcasting louder than any fleeting fame can. Even now, the track finds its way into commercials and movies, endlessly pulsating, urging people to get "the action." But let’s be clear: she’s no meme for self-destructive life stories. She’s a dancer in the night, part of a legacy forged on her terms. She passed away in Kingston, New York, in 2011, but her echoes remain, highlighting the enduring power of creativity and persistence.