It’s odd to think that footwork has become retro in some respects. Originating in the mid-1990s and gaining steam through the 2000s, footwork—also known as juke or Chicago juke—was the sound of information overload. Its relentless hyper-syncopated machine beats and surreal, disorienting vocal samples anticipated the digital firehose of dis- and misinformation we’d soon be drinking from.
It was the sound of misspent Saturdays squandering spare quarters at the local arcade, mastering complex Street Fighter II special moves like they were the human genome. A soundtrack for the first generation of digital natives, footwork is the sound of a generation raised overdosing on Flintstones chewable tablets and 24-hour toy commercials, binging on Adderall, Hennessy, and copious amounts of weed to deal with the senseless, nihilistic surreality of it all.
In some respects, footwork started falling out of fashion in 2014 with the tragic overdose of Chicago’s DJ Rashad, putting a damper on the city’s scene. While footwork may have had trouble taking root in other soils, a hunger for hyper-frenetic beats and thoughtful sampling designed to make dancefloors lose their minds certainly hasn’t gone anywhere. Footwork never died, it just went underground – as obscure-but-quality releases and in the DNA of modern genres like trap and drill. The time is ripe for a re-appraisal.
Listening to Da Mind of Traxman Vol. 3 might not feel quite as much like strapping yourself into H. G. Well’s time machine as it once did, but that’s only because of the benefit of hindsight. Now that the shock and awe of the signature fluttering kick drums and pointillist hi-hats has worn off, Traxman reveals himself to be the ultimate culmination of the classic DJ tradition, blending the crate-digger’s mastery of the vocal sample and the masterful hook with the experience of thousands upon thousands of weekend nights wrecking dancefloors, leaving dancers shaky-legged and staring.
It’s not so much music from an alien civilization as fiercely efficient – a Xenomorph evolution of house, hip-hop, jungle, drum ‘n’ bass, and techno. For all its uncompromising experimentation and relentless pace, Da Mind of Traxman Vol. 3 never becomes inaccessible or even aggressive. Despite tempos in the head swirling 160bpm range, tracks like “House of Werkz” or “Trust Me” never leave you feeling edgy, although you might end up a little breathless.
Tracks like “We Can Go” are even quite gentle, falling back on the old dancer’s trick of moving in half-time while will-o’-the-wisp fairy lights glimmer and shimmer in the distance. Traxman mines many moods despite the driving tempos. “Trax Da Prophet” has all the powder keg pyrotechnics of 1970s-soul-sampling vintage hip-hop, sounding like a gritty buddy cop procedural starring a pair of androids. “I’ll Write the Hook” is pure end boss entrance music. “It Never Rains” is as ghostly and haunting as early Burial. “Day and Night Time” is an R&B gospel benediction, with the skies opening up to unleash a biblical flood of fluttering beats and day-glo keys.
When you strip away the buzzwords, you realize Traxman works in a long, unbroken line of Black music worldwide. His extensive use of sweet, soulful strings places him in the tradition of legendary DJs like Frankie Knuckles. The way the vocal samples trail off on tracks like “I Want U to Ghost” brings to mind how blues musicians let slide guitars finish their thoughts.
Call it footwork, juke, disco, house, or the blues—it doesn’t matter. There will always be a time and place for exquisitely crafted, talented, thoughtful music designed to make people dance and dream. Traxman’s Da Mind of Traxman Vol. 3 sounds even fresher and more necessary in 2025 than in 2014.