Exploring Da Mind of Traxman

One of the founding fathers of contemporary footwork, Traxman has spread Chicago’s dance music to every edge of the globe. Sampling everything from disco to hip-hop, Traxman’s projects present a singular musical timbre that generates aura, energy, and devotion. Alongside legends such as DJ Spinn, DJ Rashad, DJ Manny, and RP Boo, Traxman and footwork bridge humor, history, and addictive repetitive beats to turn house music into an explosive feat of sonic worldbuilding. Diving deep, Traxman explores his love of music, Teklife, and his dreams for the future of footwork. Initiated in 2004 by DJ Rashad and DJ Spinn, Teklife has greatly transformed from its days as a group of producers and DJs to a record label and global ambassador of footwork and juke, now leading a global revolution within contemporary dance music centered in Chicago. The impact Teklife and footwork have had on the sonorous development of dance music and the legacy of Chicago moves beyond music, touching people outside of clubs and dance floors. It is not just music, nor dance – it is the legacy of people like DJ Rashad and Traxman who devoted their entire lives to spreading the beauty of Chicago’s sound. 

Hi! Very nice to meet you! How are you doing?

Same here, same here—the pleasure is all amazing.  I am doing bless-fully, everything’s alright on my end.

Before we dive in, how did you pick your alias, ‘Corky “Traxman” Strong’?

Corky is short for Cork, that’s what my mom calls me, which is not my real name. It’s a nickname for Cornelius. That name comes from Don Cornelius of “Soul Train,” an American musical variety television show. My mom named me after him. Traxman was given to me in a holy city in the early 90s. At first, I was using Quirky Mix Master or Corky Blast Master or something like that. I always went back to playing a lot of the house dub tracks with the tracky version, and that was how I adapted to Trax. Strong came about in 2008 – I was looking for some type of alias for playing and making house music and acid tracks. I didn’t want to get the name Traxman synonymous with that because everybody will automatically think that you can footwork to what I release as Trax. Somehow, through the years, the Corky name just stuck – so now I am Corky Traxman Strong, that’s who I am.

You’ve been in the Chicago DJ scene since you were eight, how did you start DJing? What galvanised you?

I always had a love for music, but a bigger passion for dance music and how it made people react – from seeing a DJ change to 45s, and roughly any person at that time change to 45s and play the songs that made people dance even if they were b-sides. I don’t know, I just always had a thing for dance music and, of course, the electronic sound of ‘79, ‘80, and ‘81. Even after the 1979 ‘Disco Demolition Night,’ I started to hear a lot of strange music, but I liked it because it was just so far out from everything I had heard before. Of course, all the soul music with my mother, soul, and R&B, but all the rock: The Rolling Stones, Led Zeppelin, and Bob Marley, all that was with my father. My stepfather was into Curtis Mayfield, Gil Scott-Heron, Grover Washington, Jr., Freddie Hubbard, and much more. But my uncle, my mom’s brother, was a big reason. He got me into a lot of funk sound, Ohio Players, Parliament, Funkadelic, James Brown – my cousin, who also passed, introduced me to hip-hop as a kid: The Adventures of Grandmaster Flash and much more. These are my ancestors. Also, around that time was Kraftwerk, and there were a lot of imports coming in. I remember listening to a radio station when I was seven or eight I started to hear blends I had never heard before from very important DJs of the time that I still value today. It was a combination of all of these things that pushed me to start mixing and producing.

What is your creative process with sampling and producing?

Whatever it takes to get the job done. Even if it’s digital, I love digital. I’m just a hardcore collector anyway, and I’m gonna do a lot of dope stuff. I just love records and collecting them, but sampling – it’s dope it’s still one of the greatest creations. It’s a beautiful thing to be original and creative as well. When you have the right sound, it’s something you’re trying to get out of your head and execute, and you want a certain sound and don’t want to sample. Trying over a thousand freaking sounds, and finding the one that sounds good – that’s just in creativity.

And how do you know when a sample is the one? 

The sample is the one when I’ve played it in my head already. The track is already in my mind before it’s tapped out on the machine or wherever we do it. Then sometimes I have fun, or I try to push the envelope and experiment with sounds. For example, I had “Footworkin On Air” in my head since 1999 – someone asked me the same thing a couple of years ago and did so because they thought it was so mysterious and blah blah, but, no, I was just smoking, looked at the record and decided to sample it. And actually, I did a rework of it. It’s beautiful, so one day I threw it out as a bootleg. 

Have you sustained this process over the years?

I think the rise of technology upped the ante on how to execute sounds and ideas, but I still believe in my process. I still dig for music record shops here and around the world. I got to go and just find a groove, and a lot of times I’m not buying records just to sample them. I buy them to hear the purity of the musicianship from the composers, some type of vibe from it – what sounds good. I play so much music, and there are so many dope joints or riffs that I could sample, but I don’t even think about sampling. The record is so good to me, and some people ask me, ‘why don’t you sample it?’ – it’s so good but I will only sample it when I get the urge, maybe ten or fifteen years down the line.

How many vinyls do you think are in your collection?

The world will never know, I don’t know.

That seems fair yeah, ha-ha.

Cause this is nothing [shows large stacks of records]. This is just a speck of records, there’s much more in the garage, the basement, my homeboy’s crib, and my mom’s house. I’ve worked at record shops for years, so I know I got way more than this.

What do juke and footwork mean for you? 

Juke and footwork are basically Chicago house music – just like jacking, the term jack comes from house music: jack tracks and jack my body, and so on. It’s a euphemism for house music, and it’s still all house…

Everything started blowing up for you after Planet Mu issued the release of your debut album, Da Mind of Traxman in 2012. The project is an amalgamation of hard-hitting breaks, distorted heavy bass, and heavily chopped samples – emphasising the sample selection and the tedious production. In your mind how do the identities of DJ and producer interact?

I think another thing with playing the music is putting on a show with the music. You have to show energy. I can’t do one-hour sets, I have to do two-hour sets. Because I never start my sets at 160. It doesn’t work for me. I have to start from a 120. To make work my way up. Because there’s so much good music you can hear. Funk, Electro techno, Funky ass techno, some ghetto house tracks, some acid tracks, and then finally you’re at 160. I don’t mix just my tracks, I don’t believe in that. I believe in playing a whole body of great footwork tracks that people can feel. In footwork fusion, I don’t know where I’m going, but I know I’m going to a place. I’m going somewhere. 

Well, I would like to also give DJ Rashad that credit with how he was doing it, because I did the hardcore digging, and he would work with what was in front of him. I would put certain records, certain little things to all the artists coming out with Teklife: DJ Earl, DJ Manny. I provided hella samples for all those artists. But I did a little experimenting and Rashad will pick that up too. I think just going a little far out from what we heard, J Dilla or anything like that, and be a little different. I think nowadays I do like “Footworkin On Air,” because I always told people that it wasn’t my go-to favourite track, and everybody would ask how that could be. “Chilllll” was one of my favourite tracks. And I love Da Mind of Traxman Vol.2 because it was a weird experimental album, with the Pantera samples, and Black Gold: it’s different.

Yes, as you said Da Mind of Traxman Vol.2 does feel more experimental in its form and shifts the sonic universe you had been crafting at the time. As the titles of these projects suggest, these are temporal benchmarks of “your mind” at the time. What can we expect from Da Mind of Traxman vol.3? 

The cool thing with Da Mind of Traxman Vol.3, and with the chops and everything is that it still pushes the envelope. The sound and energy is energy with the music, so I guess when people do listen to volumes 1, 2, or 3 – there’s energy within those albums. I think everything I do musically tells a story, from EPs to everything. So with this album,  a lot of fans were waiting and I think that its a dope thing – musically people are gonna get what they want. 

I think Vol.3 is all of them but with another mysterious twist to it. The music lovers may get it, but for the average listener, it’s just another dope album. For some, footwork can play a role in their daily listening life, and with my style: I created a thing called footwork fusion, and of course, I borrowed that from jazz fusion. That’s where the music is at because you don’t know what you may get. And of course, I’m heavily inspired by Bob Marley, Pete Rock, and J Dilla. I wanted to take what Dilla was doing and apply that to footwork. Everything is a connection to something.

Teklife connects you and the DJs you have mentioned, such as the late DJ Rashad, DJ Spinn, and DJ Manny together, how did it start? 

DJ Spinn and DJ Rashad, when they left, one of the greatest crews in Chicago, B-Town, started their own. And I was there. I originally come from another group called the Ghetto DJs from the West side of Chicago. Teklife was originally called Ghettoteknitianz, and then it turned into Ghettoteks. Ghettoteknitianz to Ghettoteks to Teklife – since 2004.

Teklife is coming to Amsterdam on the 14th of February, and you’re mixing alongside DJ Spinn, Loefah, and Fuuture Jazz: how does it feel to be able to mix alongside long-lasting companions in the scene and faces from the new generation? 

Of course, it’s always a joy to play with your brothers that you came into the gang with. That’s a beautiful thing. It’s also dope when you’re able to see newer artists that are coming along and doing their thing, and giving it all that they have in the name of the culture. So, I salute the new artists. Can’t wait to play with them. Super cool.

As you said, in the name of the culture – where do you want to see footwork and juke move towards?

Everybody is doing their part, and I think that’s a dope thing. Everybody just keeps supporting the sound. If you believe in Chicago and footwork’s sound, the pureness of it, and what it can do, it could be more than music just for a dance. That’s why I said footwork, and another reason why I say footwork fusion is something that you can listen to when you jump in your car or you’re feeling sad. I had a lot of fans through the years who were dealing with suicidal situations and crazy stuff like that. They would put on “Chilllll” or “Footworkin On Air,” and it would calm them down. So that’s like, wow, if this can save a kid’s life, this music is powerful. So those are the reasons this music is just here. It’s more than a dance. It’s an experience. It’s a beautiful vibe. And of course, even with DJ Rashad. He left such an impact with the vibe and sound that can never be matched. None of us can match. We’re all different individuals. But there’s something about DJ Rashad…

DJ Rashad touched so many people, Teklife is your guys’ legacy and all of you shine within it. 

I don’t just make things about myself. I’m always being inspired by others, as well as younger artists. That’s the cool thing about this. Being inspired by the next generation. I was talking to RP Boo a month ago, and we were just talking about how it’s our duty, as the elders of the sound, to keep pushing it. We’re in our 50s. But we have a duty.