DJ Taye Still Trippin’
Infused with his own rapping, the debut album from Teklife’s youngest member makes a strong case for the way footwork has been strengthened, not diluted, as its form has loosened up.
For whatever length of time that non-Chicagoans have been tuning in to footwork, the shape has been displayed as something of an outcast workmanship. Early surveys, around Planet Mu’s Bangs and Works comps, tossed around descriptors like “outsider.” There’s absolutely an expectation to absorb information with regards to adapting to the force of the sound, with its heedless polyrhythms and disorganized testing methods. Actually, it’s anything but difficult to envision that feeling of detachment was precisely what a considerable measure of early adopters loved about the music; it’s amusing to have a place with a selective club. As the Teklife group has spent the 2010s on an outreaching mission to spread footwork’s gospel around the world, there’s been some worry that the class’ expanding notoriety may resolve the irregularity that made it so exciting. On the off chance that anything, the inverse has been valid; footwork’s advancement hasn’t been straight to such an extent as it’s extended in twelve cracked ways, making an entrancing composite of what footwork can be.
The late DJ Rashad’s Double Cup is regularly comprehended as the class’ hybrid minute—a work that demonstrated footwork could rise above the dancefloor usefulness of its starting points and thrive in the full-length collection organize. In any case, the development hasn’t appeared to shake that pariah status similarly that, say, dubstep once did. I think about whether that is to a limited extent in view of the way it keeps on being surrounded as an oddity inside the move music underground—comprehended as a specialty concern as opposed to putting it inside the more extensive range of electronic music everywhere, even as folks prefer DJ Earl discharge melodies with Oneohtrix Point Never. That should change with Still Trippin’, the hotly anticipated presentation collection from Teklife’s most youthful part, DJ Taye. More than any footwork discharge to date—Double Cup included—it offers a dream of exactly how normally, even nimbly, its mark sounds can live on the planet. Taye influences it to search simple for footwork to exist together with more well known styles without giving up its in-your-face quintessence. His collection is without a moment’s delay past footwork and of it totally—a case for the shape being reinforced, not weakened, by the push and draw of impacts throughout the years. Furthermore, in that sense, it is a tribute to Rashad, who realized that before any other person did.
Taye isn’t the primary footwork maker to fuse their own particular raps into tracks, a custom that stretches out back to mid 1990s ghetto house, however he is pretty effectively the best at it, having initially gotten into music as a trying MC and rap maker. “Trippin,” with arpeggiated 8-bit synths that sound like how the start of a mushroom trip feels, may be the greatest formal jump for Teklife since Double Cup—not only for Taye’s Three 6 Mafia-motivated bars, however the general structure. With verses, connects, and ensembles, the track takes the outward state of a pop or rap tune yet remains evidently footwork; that is mostly a result of how Taye treats his own vocals, twisting and slashing them to compare with the hyper-specialized drum programming. Be that as it may, while the collection’s rap-arranged minutes head-counterfeit towards more customary melody structures, they’re muddling them, as well. “Get It Jukin” lets Chuck Inglish’s verse inhale, drums riding low in the blend before peaking into a percussive firecrackers show. This isn’t the straightforward midpoint between two sorts, however a rap tune comprehended through the system of footwork; the “snare” isn’t the words, yet the rhythms, which impart for themselves.
For fear that you think Taye had deserted the straight-up works, there are tunes like “Truu” or “Campfire,” two DJ Paypal joint efforts that ground Still Trippin’s combination explores in the crude vitality of footwork as it existed 10 years prior, in storm cellars and at Battle Groundz. A third Paypal collab, “Pop Drop,” may be the most bizarre juke track I’ve ever heard, twisting a well-known Dance Mania rhythm into progressively flighty examples, similar to a session of Bop It played on a MPC mid corrosive outing. “Need It,” with Teklife pillar DJ Manny, doesn’t seem like any footwork melody you’ve heard previously; finished faltering breakbeats, an incoherent corrosive bassline, and unobtrusively infringing dubstep wubs, a chipmunked vocal example parts into two parallel ways progressively. It’s an accomplishment that everything figures out how to stay decipherable, the track’s continually moving parts without a moment’s delay advising each other and escaping each other’s way. It might be said, the footwork component lies in the development that could just originate from an artist’s point of view—a natural feeling of musical effortlessness that rises above songwriting rationale.
A long time back, audience members regularly reacted to footwork by making inquiries: Was it intended to be useful instead of formal? What setting would it say it was intended to be heard in? How the hellfire do you move to it? Still Trippin’ asks an alternate inquiry: Why isn’t everybody rapping or singing over footwork beats? It speaks to not a move in how footwork should sound, but rather a development of how it could sound, greater than Chicago yet Chicago profoundly. Furthermore, it makes early worries about availability appear to be frivolous. One thing path cooler than enrollment in an elite club is influencing the world as peculiar as you to need it.