Welcome back to the Deep Dive. Today we are putting
a very specific record on the turntable, metaphorically
speaking. Metaphorically, yeah. Right, right.
But we're also putting an entire subculture under
the microscope. We are looking at a moment where
this hyper -local, frantic, really street -level
sound suddenly found itself on the global stage.
It really did. So we are talking about DJ Rashad's
2013 studio album, Double Cup. Which is... I
mean, it's just a massive record to tackle. And
honestly, it's a pretty heavy one to discuss
in more ways than one. It really is. And I want
to start with that weight right off the bat.
This isn't just a standard album review where
we just talk about beats and bars. No, not at
all. When Double Cup dropped in October 2013,
it was DJ Rashad's first proper studio album.
And tragically, because of his passing shortly
after, it remains the only full -length album
released during his lifetime. Yeah. That's the
crucial context that hangs over every single
track we're going to talk about today. We're
looking at a snapshot of an artist who was arguably
just hitting his absolute creative peak. Right.
The mission of this deep dive isn't just to mourn
what we lost. It's to understand how this specific
record managed to do something almost impossible.
It took the Chicago footwork sound and it just
blew it up globally. And just so you know where
we are pulling all this from, our sources for
this deep dive. include a lot of the original
critical reception from when the album dropped,
production notes on how it was actually made,
and retrospective analysis of the album's legacy
over the last decade. Right, because the way
people view it now is, well, it's very different
from back then. Yeah, we'll definitely get into
that. But before we get into the history, I think
we need to set the stage for our listeners who,
you know, might not be hardcore electronic music
heads. Good idea. When we say footwork or juke...
What are we actually talking about? Because if
you've never heard it, describing it as dance
music just feels like a massive understatement.
Understatement is putting it mildly. Footwork
is intense. It's a genre born in Chicago, specifically
for these rapid fire dance battles. We are talking
about music that clocks in at 160 beats per minute.
160 BPM. That is, I mean, that's heart attack
speed. It is. It's characterized by these syncopated
rhythms, really heavy sub -bass, and repetitive
vocal chops that get twisted and turned into
percussion. It's athletic music. Athletic. Yeah,
it's meant to make your feet move faster than
your brain can even process. Okay, so keep that
sonic image in your head. Frantic, sweaty, 160
BPM battle music. That's the baseline. But then,
enter double cup. Right. This album wasn't just
another collection of battle tracks. It was released
on Hyperdub. Right. Which is this legendary UK
label known for much more moody, atmospheric
dubstep. Exactly. And that label choice is the
first clue that something different is happening
here. This was the exact moment where those local
Chicago subgenres, juke and footwork, started
shaking hands with the wider, artsier world of
electronic music. So let's unpack the origins
of this specific project, because the visuals
alone tell a story. If you look at the cover
art, which was designed... by Rashad's friend
Ashes57. What are we actually looking at? We
are looking at a stark nighttime aerial shot
of Chicago. It's beautiful, a little bit lonely,
honestly, but it anchors Rashad's identity firmly
to his hometown. Even though, as we'll see, the
actual recording process took him all over the
place, the soul of the record is explicitly Chicago.
Right. But here's where the making of story gets
really interesting to me. You see DJ Rashad on
the cover, singular. So you naturally assume,
OK, this is a solo genius locked in a soundproof
booth somewhere for a year. Oh, absolutely not.
Right. The source material paints a completely
different picture. This was not an isolationist
project. Far from it. In fact, you can't really
talk about Rashad or Double Cup without talking
about the Tech Life crew. Tech Life. That's the
collective he was part of. Right. Rashid had
this philosophy that was actually pretty unique
in such a competitive scene. He believed that
collaboration was the main fuel for creativity.
That's awesome. Yeah, it wasn't about guarding
his secrets or hiding his samples. It was about
sharing the energy. I really love that. It pushes
back against that whole tortured solo artist
myth. And we have some specific details on how
that collaboration actually worked for this album.
We know from his collaborator, DJ Spin. that
a lot of these tracks weren't just made from
scratch in a single day. No. Spin noted that
many of the tracks were pre -existing ideas.
They were these sketches and loops that the crew
had been kicking around for like seven or eight
months. Wow. Yeah, they were just continuously
reworking them, refining them, polishing them
up. Which implies a level of care and curation
that people sometimes don't associate with such
a... fast -paced, raw genre. They were really
crafting this thing. Precisely. They were treating
footwork with the same studio rigor as a pop
album or a high -concept electronic record. And
the setting. This is honestly my favorite detail
in the research. Yeah. They weren't in some multi
-million dollar studio complex in L .A. or London.
Where were they recording this masterpiece? This
is the best part. Spin mentioned his own studio,
sure, but a significant portion of Double Cup
was actually recorded in San Francisco. specifically
in the apartment of their friend Tasso's girlfriend.
Just in an apartment. Yeah. Hanging out. Exactly.
That is so relatable. It completely grounds the
whole legendary album status in reality. It's
just friends in a living room making music. And
we have to mention the atmosphere of those sessions
because the sources are quite specific about
the vibe in that room. The recording was done,
and I quote, much of the time under the influence
of cannabis. Which brings us directly to the
title of the album, Double Cup. And this is where
I think the genius of the record really lies.
We need to talk about the tension here. It's
the central conflict of the album, really. Double
Cup is a direct reference to the method of preparing
and consuming lean. Which is codeine cough syrup
mixed with soda, right? Yes. And lean is a downer.
It slows you down. It's associated with being
stuck to the couch, leaning, moving in slow motion.
Exactly. So think about that. You have a genre,
footwork. That is entirely defined by a 160 BPM
speed, athleticism and frantic energy. And you
title the album after a substance that makes
you feel like you're moving underwater. It's
a total paradox. It is. And that paradox is the
actual sound of the album. Drown in Sound pointed
this out in their original review. They talked
about the balance of electronics and drugs. It's
the sensation of sprinting while you're falling
asleep. The sprinting while falling asleep. Yeah,
it's a very specific, almost psychedelic headspace.
So let's deconstruct that sound a bit more. If
a listener hasn't heard Double Cup and they're
expecting just raw, aggressive battle tracks,
what are they actually stepping into? Because
the sources say it's a massive blend. It really
is a blend. It incorporates juke, obviously,
but also pop rap and R &B. Pitchfork had this
incredible description that I think just nails
it. What did they say? They said the album melts
the long history of Chicago house into glossy
bits of pop rap. Glossy bits. That implies a
shine or a polish that wasn't really there before
in the genre. And they went on to say it combines
the athletic feats of juke with the warmth and
soul of the city's R &B. That word warmth is
key here. Right. A lot of early footwork can
sound mechanical, cold, almost aggressive. Rashad
brought the soul back into the machine. That
R &B influence is huge. It gives it that emotional
hook. It's not just about moving your feet anymore.
It's about feeling something in your chest. Absolutely.
And looking at the track list, that collaborative
spirit we mentioned earlier is just everywhere.
You've got tracks like Feeling, Past That Shit,
and She Ago. And look at the credits on those.
Feelin' features spin and taso. Pass That Shit
features Spin and Teso. She Ago features Spin
and Teso. It's a pattern. Yeah, and you also
have appearances by DJ Phil, Addison Groove,
Manny, Earl. It's a complete family affair. It's
a posse cut approach to an electronic album.
And this is a crucial distinction. The writing
credits tell us something really important about
Rashad's role in all this. They do. Because despite
all those features, all the tracks were written
by DJ Rashad. He was the architect. He was the
conductor of this orchestra, bringing all these
voices together under his... specific vision.
He knew exactly how to use his friends talents
to build the sound he wanted. So we have this
incredible collaborative genre bending album
coming out of a smoke filled apartment in San
Francisco. It drops in October 2013. What did
the world think? Generally they loved it. But
it's nuanced. And looking back, it's actually
kind of fascinating to see who got it immediately
and who really struggled with it. Okay, let's
unpack that reception. Because looking at the
numbers, it has a Metacritic score of 79 out
of 100. It's generally favorable, but for an
album that we now call a classic, 79 seems, I
don't know, a little low. It reflects the confusion
of the time. You have to remember, in 2013, this
sound was entirely alien to a lot of mainstream
critics. Exclaim was completely on board. They
called it a contender for the freshest sounding
album of the year. That's high praise. They noted
it carried the trademarks of footwork, but incorporated
all these new ideas. And NME had that great quote.
They called it the sound of footwork at its most
bonkers. Which honestly sounds like the best
compliment you could possibly give this genre.
It really does. They praised the innovation in
a genre that they said reinvents itself almost
weekly. That speed of reinvention is super characteristic
of the scene. Mixmag went even further, calling
it career -defining. So you have these really
high praises from people who are already plugged
into the energy. But then you have the dissenting
voices. And this is where it gets really surprising
for me, looking back. Fact magazine wasn't fully
on board. No, they weren't. Their critic actually
called it regressive. Regressive? How do you
call something that is innovative regressive?
Well, you have to look at it from the perspective
of a footwork purist. Rashad had done earlier
work that was much harsher, much more abrasive
and underground. Fact argued that by comparing
it to his previous work, Double Cup felt genre
diluted. Oh, I see. So because he added the R
&B, the glossy pop elements we talked about,
they felt he was softening the edges too much.
Exactly. They saw that accessibility, the very
thing that eventually allowed it to go global
as a weakness, they thought he was watering down
the raw spirit of the genre. That is fascinating.
It's the classic they sold out argument, but
framed as genre dilution. And Rolling Stone had
a mixed take as well, right? Yeah, they did.
And their critique is really telling about...
the difficulty of listening to this genre if
you aren't used to it. They found it thrilling
in five -minute bursts, but ultimately called
it a little tiring over the course of a full
50 -minute LP. A little tiring. You know, when
you think about 160 BPM for an hour straight,
I guess I can physically understand that reaction.
Yeah, it's a lot of audio information to process.
But hold that thought because we are going to
circle back to that tiring comment when we talk
about how this album has aged. It's a very important
point. But first... How did Rashad actually take
this? I mean, 79 on Metacritic is solid, but
did he hear the noise about it being diluted?
By all accounts, he was incredibly humble about
the whole thing. He was quoted saying he was
stunned, flattered, and blessed by the reception.
That's really sweet. He seemed to genuinely appreciate
that people were listening to Chicago music on
this kind of global scale. He didn't seem to
have a chip on his shoulder about the purists
at all. That makes the tragedy that followed
even harder to swallow. But before we get to
the legacy, I want to talk about the retrospective
shift. Because 2013 was one thing, but 2023,
a decade later, is a totally different story.
This is a classic case of art just needing time
to settle. Sometimes the audience literally needs
10 years to catch up to the artist. If you look
at how publications rate the album now, the scores
have gone up significantly. Give us the numbers.
Well, AllMusic originally gave it a 4 out of
5. They have since upgraded that to a perfect
5 out of 5. Wow, a perfect score. That's a retroactive
admission of, hey, we missed a spot. And Spectrum
Culture did something even more dramatic. They
originally gave it a 2 .5 out of 5, which is
basically a failing grade. 2 .5, that's brutal.
It is. But for the reissue, they upgraded it
to a 4 out of 5. That is a massive jump. That's
going from this is bad to this is great. It shows
that what sounded tiring or confusing to people
in 2013 now sounds like a masterpiece. Pitchfork
also completely cemented its status. They placed
it on their best albums of the decade so far
list in 2014. And by 2019, it was number 20 on
their best albums of the 2010s overall. So it
went from generally favorable to a decade defining
classic. Precisely. The tiring repetition that
Rolling Stone complained about. We now recognize
that as the hypnotic mantra like quality that
defines the entire genre and the dilution that
names fact and complained about. We now see that
as the necessary evolution that allowed the genre
to survive and grow. And that leads us to the
legacy. Because we can't ignore the fact that
Rashad isn't here to see this re -evaluation.
No. As we said at the start, it was the soulful
length released while he was alive. And just
recently, we hit the 10th anniversary in 2023.
That was a big moment. On December 8th, 2023,
they released a reissue. They did. And they kept
it in the family, which I think is beautiful.
It included a new cover, still designed by Ashes57,
and a bonus track called Last Winter that had
previously only been available on the CD version.
It's really nice that they kept the visual identity
with the exact same designer. It keeps that connection
to the roots intact. Absolutely. And looking
back at that 10 -year mark, the consensus is
pretty clear. This specific album is credited
with globally popularizing footwork. It broke
the containment field of Chicago. It really did.
Mixmag, in a retrospective, called it one of
the most influential and innovative albums of
the last decade. And The Quietest had a quote
from back in 2013 that feels almost prophetic
now. They said, Rashad is someone who knows how
to signpost a good legacy. Signpost a good legacy.
That gives me chills. It suggests he knew exactly
what he was doing. He was planting a flag. He
was saying to everyone, this is where the genre
goes next. So what does this all mean for you
listening at home? We've got this album born
from a crew of friends fueled by cannabis and
pure creativity that somehow managed to bridge
the gap between gritty street dance battles and
high concept electronic art. I think that's the
key takeaway. Double Cup wasn't just a collection
of tracks, it was a bridge. It took a genre that
was very athletic, very intense, and sometimes
genuinely hard for outsiders to grasp, and it
gave it a language that the wider world could
understand. It translated the frenetic energy
of the footwork circle into something you could
actually sit and listen to on headphones. Exactly.
And it did that without losing its edge, despite
what Fact magazine thought at the time. It proved
that footwork wasn't just some local curiosity.
It was a serious musical movement with depth,
soul, and real staying power. It feels like it
opened the door for everything that came after
in that scene. If you listen to modern electronic
music, whether it's jungle, drum and bass, or
even mainstream pop, you hear those rapid -fire
triplets now. You're that double cup DNA. It
absolutely did. It normalized that speed. It
taught our ears how to process 160 BPM without
getting tired. It's a great reminder that sometimes
the most important art comes from the most casual
environments. Just friends, hanging out, making
music they love. And trusting that collaboration
makes it better. That's the tech life way. Exactly.
Well, we're coming to the end of our deep dive.
We've gone from the aerial view of Chicago to
the apartment in San Francisco, through the skeptical
reviews of 2013, and into the history books where
this album belongs. It's been quite a journey
to look back on. I want to leave you with one
final thought to mull over. We talked about how
Rolling Stone called the Elver tiring in 2013,
and how Spectrum Culture gave it a 2 .5. Now,
it's hailed as a perfect masterpiece. It makes
you wonder what album came out this year that
critics are calling repetitive, noisy or tiring
just because they haven't learned how to listen
to it yet. That is the question. The avant -garde
always sounds like noise until it sounds like
history. Something to think about next time you
hit play on a new genre. Thanks for listening
to The Deep Dive. We'll catch you on the next
one.