The Village People

Village People: Where Are They Now and Who’s Performing at Donald Trump’s Inauguration?

From Disco Fever to MAGA Mania, The Hard Hat Has Seen It All

It’s the question that has haunted America for decades: Where are the Village People now? Did they disappear into a polyester vortex? Are they still together? And most importantly—will they be performing at Donald Trump’s next inauguration?

Let’s face it, the Village People have always been America’s favorite group of singing stereotypes. They gave us “YMCA,” the song responsible for more dance-related shoulder injuries than any other in human history. They also gave us “Macho Man,” a song that confused thousands of straight men in the ‘70s who thought it was about football.

Now, as rumors swirl about their possible inclusion in Trump’s 2025 inauguration, we take a look at where each of the original members are today—and whether they’re ready to trade their disco ball for a golden MAGA hat.


The Cowboy: From Rodeos to Republican Fundraisers

Randy Jones, the original cowboy of the Village People, spent years riding the wave of disco stardom before eventually realizing that dressing like a cowboy doesn’t mean you actually own a horse. These days, he’s more likely to be seen at a country club than a rodeo, but he’s never let go of his signature look.

Sources say he’s open to performing at Trump’s inauguration, as long as he’s promised a lifetime supply of fringe jackets and a guaranteed exemption from jury duty.


The Cop: Ticketing Liberals on Twitter

Victor Willis, the group’s original cop, left the Village People early on due to “artistic differences,” which we assume means he realized disco was going to crash harder than a drunk uncle at Thanksgiving. These days, he spends his time patrolling Twitter, writing strongly worded messages to anyone who criticizes Trump’s hair.

He has confirmed that he will not be performing at the inauguration, citing “creative integrity.” This, of course, means he asked for more money and didn’t get it.


The Construction Worker: Trying to Rebuild His Career

David Hodo, the construction worker, has reportedly been spending his time looking for work ever since the Village People stopped topping the charts. He’s also rumored to be highly enthusiastic about Trump’s border wall plans, mostly because he thinks there’s a chance he’ll finally get a real construction gig.

When reached for comment about performing at the inauguration, he responded, “Does it come with health insurance?”


The Native American Chief: Calling His Lawyer

Felipe Rose, the group’s original Native American member, is still performing, though these days it’s mostly in casinos, at county fairs, and occasionally at a very confused bachelorette party.

Trump’s team reportedly reached out to him about the inauguration, but Rose declined, citing a strict personal policy of “not performing for men who think all Native Americans own a casino.”


The Soldier: Still Marching, But Not for Trump

Alex Briley, the original military man, is still around but has largely avoided politics. Insiders say he was approached for the performance but turned it down upon realizing that Trump’s idea of supporting the troops mostly involves yelling “Thank you for your service!” at Applebee’s waiters who look vaguely military.


Who’s Actually Performing at the Inauguration?

With most of the original Village People declining the invitation, Trump’s team is scrambling to put together a lineup that will please his base. Current rumored performers include:

  • Kid Rock (because of course)
  • Ted Nugent (playing his one song for the 4,000th time)
  • **An AI-generated hologram of Elvis that refuses to sing anything from the ‘hippie’ era)
  • Mike Lindell and the MyPillow Gospel Choir
  • Scott Baio singing the national anthem while holding a framed photo of Ronald Reagan

Despite the setbacks, the Trump campaign remains confident that the inauguration will be “the most electrifying event in history”—or at least the most lawsuit-ridden.

So, will we see a Village People reunion at Trump’s swearing-in? Probably not. But one thing’s for sure: somewhere, right now, a wedding DJ is about to press play on “YMCA”—and the world will keep on spinning.


Disclaimer:

This article is a work of satire and should not be taken seriously, much like a Ted Nugent concert or anything Scott Baio says. No original Village People were harmed in the making of this article, though some of them may have rolled their eyes.


Bohiney.com - A parody illustration of the Village People dressed in their classic outfits, performing in a retirement home. The cowboy, cop, construction worker, N-- Alan Nafzger 3
Bohiney.com – A parody illustration of the Village People dressed in their classic outfits, performing in a retirement home. The cowboy, cop, construction worker…– Alan Nafzger

About the Village People and Their Wild Journey Through Time

  • “YMCA” has been played at every wedding, bar mitzvah, and office party since 1978. It’s scientifically impossible to resist doing the arm movements, even if you have a broken shoulder.
  • The Village People had the most confusing lineup of any band in history. Were they a disco group or an overstaffed Village People’s Neighborhood Watch team?
  • They had every possible career covered. If you needed a cop, a cowboy, a soldier, or a construction worker, they had you covered—just don’t ask them to do any actual police work or carpentry.
  • They were the only band where all the members could also double as Halloween costumes. Not even KISS can say that, unless you count Gene Simmons as a very aggressive vampire.
  • Nobody actually knows what the verses to “YMCA” are. People just shout “Y! M! C! A!” at full volume and make up the rest in a drunken slur.
  • The construction worker is still waiting for his pension. After 40 years of performing, not a single building has been constructed.
  • The cowboy has spent his entire career explaining he has never actually ridden a horse. He’s done more disco moves than cattle herding, but he does own an impressive collection of rhinestone boots.
  • The cop quit law enforcement to focus on singing and dancing. Ironically, the only arrests he’s made were for bad rhythm on the dance floor.
  • The Native American chief was the only member who could wear his outfit on Spirit Day at school. Every other member would get sent home for inappropriate attire.
  • They are the only band to make disco music sound like military recruitment ads. “In the Navy” was so convincing, it almost became an official song of the U.S. Navy—until someone reminded them disco doesn’t go well with aircraft carriers.
  • Their mustaches were stronger than their actual music careers. Tom Selleck is still trying to figure out how to get one that iconic.
  • They were so committed to disco that even their retirements needed a dance routine. Imagine getting your pension check while doing the hustle in a sequined jumpsuit.
  • Their outfits haven’t changed since 1978, but somehow they still look stylish. Meanwhile, anything people wore in 2005 looks like a fashion disaster.
  • They invented the first exercise dance craze before Zumba was even a thing. No gym membership required—just an ability to spell out letters with your arms and a willingness to look ridiculous.
  • They proved that you don’t need real musical talent to have a long career—just a catchy chorus and matching outfits. If you can make people spell letters while dancing, you’re golden for life.
Bohiney.com - A satirical illustration of the Village People dressed in their iconic costumes, standing on a grand stage with bright disco lights. The cowboy, cop, -- Alan Nafzger 1
Bohiney.com – A satirical illustration of the Village People dressed in their iconic costumes, standing on a grand stage with bright disco lights. The cowboy, cop, — Alan Nafzger 1

By Ingrid Johansson

Ingrid Johansson, with her roots in the serene landscapes of Sweden, pursued Journalism at the University of Minnesota, focusing on the Scandinavian influence in American culture. Post-graduation, Ingrid explored her comedic talents, which led her to become a staple in Minneapolis' comedy clubs. Her unique blend of dry Swedish humor and Midwestern charm captivates audiences, as she jokes about everything from long winters to the peculiarities of Swedish American life.