Photo by Ashes57
The first encounter I had with the BPM-busting Chicago style known as footwork straight from the source came watching DJ Spinn & DJ Rashad play at an All Tomorrow's Parties festival in Minehead, England, near the end of 2011. Even after absorbing the context of entry-level compilations and numerous live mixes in the run-up, wheeling around a dancefloor in a faded family holiday camp at 2 a.m. on a Monday morning to the strains of DJ Manny's Lil Wayne-sampling "All I Do Is (Smoke Trees)" provided a unique and novel thrill. Everything from still-smoldering club smashes to at least three Watch the Throne cuts and even a Giorgio Moroder soundtrack got sucked into Spinn and Rashad's overheating, chaotic, inescapably gleeful mélange, delivered at breakneck speed. Everyone who had investigated the scene stayed right until lights up, grins etched across their faces; but then, there were only 30 of us, tops. The flame was burning ever brighter, but footwork was still just a lit fuse—a niche concern even some time after 2011's introductory comp Bangs & Works, Vol.1 had attracted a few curious outsiders.
Skip forward two years and the tinderbox has blown. Footwork no longer represents a frenzied curio, but rather a valid facet of the wider conversation that has come to espouse something cerebral in addition to its rep as pure dancefloor fire, using a considerably broader sonic palette and plumbing greater emotional depths. Case in point: DJ Rashad's masterful new album for Hyperdub, Double Cup, which Pitchfork's Larry Fitzmaurice called "the strongest footwork-related LP since the genre was introduced to a wider audience" in his recent Best New Music review.
Though the producer recently suffered a fractured hip and bruised ribs in a car accident, he's currently back on the road supporting fellow Chicago act Chance the Rapper across America. Speaking after a lengthy rehearsal—his set features blindingly quick footwork dancers—it's hard to ascribe any emotion to the man apart from gracious, infectious joy. On one hand, the showstopping, suspended freefall of Double Cup single "I Don't Give a Fuck" seemingly couldn't be less representative, standing in stark contrast with his bubbly personality and bleating laugh. Taken from a different angle, however, the title makes sense given Rashad's methodical, grounded approach: The calm at the eye of an ever-expanding storm.
Pitchfork: How have you found the reaction to Double Cup so far?
Rashad Harden: Bro, I'm stunned, flattered, blessed. I never thought it would take off the way it has. I figured it would be nice, but not like this.
Pitchfork: Your Teklife camp has had numerous releases this decade, but it feels as if there was a swell of anticipation that help it crack through.
RH: I was nervous at first, because I told people it wouldn't be a typical Teklife album—I went the other way from the hyper, aggressive shit we normally do. It plays more toward other things I love: jungle, acid house. So for it to go down well, I'm just amazed. I didn't think people would get in tune with it. I got a couple of hate mails, nothing too bad: "Why didn't you just stick to the regular footwork shit?" But this is just something that needed to be done.
Pitchfork: Do you think you're going to have difficulties getting samples cleared now you guys have a bigger profile?
RH: Uh, yeah. [laughs] Definitely. But for Double Cup, for example, only four songs out of 14 had samples. And I'm working on more original stuff now that the eyes are on me.
Pitchfork: You worked with a lot of like-minded artists on Double Cup, but do you ever want to challenge yourself with a record that's purely your work?
RH: Yes. I mean, I've done that on some of my older records. But the whole idea of Double Cup was to collab with everybody I can, from Teklife and all my friends—whoever was available before I had to turn the record in: Manny, Earl, Taso, Spinn. I feel collaboration plays a big part, it's like a learning experience.
Pitchfork: I've seen some wild videos of you out in Russia—people going insane in this very European, stomp-and-fistpump way. What was it like the first time you experienced a completely different crowd reaction to your music, especially after such a long time exposed to the dance battles back in Chicago?
RH: I went to Russia for the first time in April and didn't know what to expect. I didn't really think people knew, but they went fucking mental. [laughs] They knew all the songs, it was crazy man! In St. Petersburg, they got a couple footwork dancers, can you believe that?
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Pitchfork: Sometimes I go to a club in London and hear footwork music played, and people are there sweating it out, trying their hardest to keep up. Obviously they're failing miserably—but the spirit's there.
RH: As long as they get the vibe and everything's cool, that's our goal right now. They can learn the footwork later.
Pitchfork: Given that it's been a pretty intense year, do you find your allegiance to Chicago strengthening as you travel the world, or do you feel a disconnect?
RH: It's my home. I pay my dues to Chicago and everybody knows what I'm doing. When I'm gone I got people like Boylan, Gantman, Earl, Manny, Taso, and everybody else holding it down. The music's still being played, and they know we're out here trying to spread it even harder. When I'm home, it's a big party!
Pitchfork: How do you reckon your next record's going to sound like; Double Cup definitely balanced the light and the dark.
RH: Right now, we're working DJ Spinn's album for Hyperdub. It's going to be a little bit of everything, too—we'll stick to the footwork formula but we've got other shit as well. The response to Double Cup has let us know we can do different things and have people support and love it as well.
Pitchfork: How has it been working with Hyperdub?
RH: Hyperdub is great. I love what they do. I was a fan of [label head and producer] Kode9 and everybody before I had even heard an offer, so to be a part of what they're doing is an honor. I want to collab with any and everybody: Scratcha, Cooly G, Laurel Halo. We all on the same team. I'm always down to work with homies on the team and I should have some stuff coming out in '14 with these guys.
Pitchfork: Right, one more: Out of all the places you've been on tour this year, where can you get the best kush?
RH: Well, it ain't Amsterdam! [laughs] Germany got the good shit, London too, Copenhagen, Sweden. Pretty much everywhere. Wait, nah: Paris don't have no good shit, just rocks of horseshit hash. Croatia didn't have no weed either. But I'm not offended if they don't have any, but, yeah… I'd prefer it. [laughs]
