The South Side producer infuses footwork’s intricate syncopations with the romance of R&B; in the process, he underscores the shared lineage with Chicago house.
Footwork isn’t just dance music, it’s meant for competition. At roller rinks, raves, and other functions on Chicago’s South and West Sides, DJs cue up tracks with syncopated layers of percussion to mirror the rapid movements of battling dancers. (At this rate, expect to see footworking in the 2032 Olympic Games, if the Games still exist by then.) But on Signals in My Head, veteran footworker DJ Manny downplays the competitive aspect of the music in favor of a romantic tone inspired by R&B.
Manuel Gaines learned to footwork from his older brother in middle school, started producing tracks on FruityLoops as a high-school freshman, and co-founded footwork crew/label Teklife with pioneers DJ Spinn and the late DJ Rashad as a teenager after meeting them at a roller rink. Beyond his production, Manny was known as one of the best dancers of a generation, once noted for dominating a battle with a track of his own making, just a few hours after recording it. But that competitive streak isn’t exclusionary: He’s just as likely to bring a newcomer into the fold with a friendly introduction.
It’s a big summer for footwork. RP Boo’s upcoming Established! blends samples from Dr. Dre and Phil Collins into complex rhythms, while Jana Rush’s Painful Enlightenment pushes into more abstract, jazz-like territory, and dance crew the Era light up downtown every night with a gigantic public-art installation. Though Manny is younger than these originators, his latest album takes footwork back to its roots. Manny calls Signals in My Head an “R&B love type album”; that translates to an emphasis on the ecstasy that footwork shares with other genres of Black Midwestern dance music while maintaining the signature 160bpm tempo and rhythmic sophistication. This theme was possibly inspired by his new home in Brooklyn with his romantic partner and fellow musician SUCIA!—he did include one of her tracks in his recent BBC guest mix—but then, love (or lust) has often been part of his music. (When South Side Weekly asked what first attracted him to footwork, Manny joked, “It got me girls.”)
The best tracks on the album evoke the thrill of a new romance. On the title track, the kick and snare respond to each other, first as quarter notes then more rapid patterns, like a flirtation carried out on MPC pads. Album opener “Never Was Ah Hoe” draws out more than 45 seconds of synths and hand drums before any bass kicks in, building tension by withholding the longed-for sub-bass.
Sometimes the romance theme is literal, using the vocabulary of love songs. The sampled vocals on “All I Need” switch from whispers to soulful vamping to declare, “Your love is all I need” and “It’s what I want.” It’s a simple message, but it’s effective, and Manny’s production adds rhythmic nuance by alternating between uptempo and half-time cadences accentuated with 808 triplets. (This is an album with two separate songs titled “You All I Need” and “All I Need,” to really drive the point home.)
Manny’s vocal samples are often less about the words than the tone. It takes a few repetitions of the syrupy sweet vocals on “U Want It,” reminiscent of Manny’s fellow South Sider Jeremih, to notice he’s singing about money, not a lover. The purrs on “Never Was Ah Hoe” are sensual enough that the vocalist’s actual past is irrelevant.
Manny’s renewed focus on the romantic side of footwork links the music to its origins in Chicago house. The gospel vocals on “Wants My Body,” full of lust and self-confidence, would fit on a vintage Frankie Knuckles track, but the near-religious fervor is amplified by the syncopated drums. “You All I Need” and “That Thang” bounce along with swung, splashing hi-hats on the off beat, a house-music signature.
The album only drags when it abandons the love theme, loose as it is. The full four-on-the-floor pound of “Club GTA” is too aggressive, and the high synth whines orbiting the upper register create the claustrophobic feeling of an overcrowded dancefloor. “At First Site” closes the album with dramatic synth pads and a keening lead melody, evoking a spooky 16-bit video game. It’s a fine track, but a strange note to end on.
As with most footwork records, the strength of Manny’s album may ultimately lie in how well dancers can move to it. But the romantic glow that infuses Signals in My Head suggests your technical skills don’t matter, as long as you’re dancing with the right partner.
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