![]() ![]() It felt like I was going through the motions, faking it as a way to try to move past the shock. It was sweet, but I didn’t really have any words, and when I did talk about how I felt, it didn’t feel sincere. A lot of people began texting and messaging me, as if a personal family member had died. Shock seemed to be the most appropriate response, because his death was incredibly surreal, so seemingly random and unfair and frustrating and disappointing and sad. I found out about Rashad’s death by reading it on this here website, after a message from our news editor Squeo. But his version of footwork somehow managed to worm its way above all other promising producers to become its quintessential sound - Jack’s groove remade and reborn, weirder yet appropriately grounded in the flesh, tailor-made to who was listening at the moment. He didn’t “invent” footwork, nor was he the first to popularize it. And it was indeed an iteration: Rashad wasn’t a purist. DJ Rashad departed just as he was on a seemingly never-ending international upswing, having risen from a decade-plus of DJing, dancing, and producing in South Chicago to suddenly becoming the de facto ambassador of footwork, not only helping to bring footwork and juke to global attention, but mutating them, building on them to form his own unique iteration. I can barely get myself to type this out, because over the weekend, one of my personal music heroes died. ![]()
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