DJ Frankie Knuckles in London in 2007.
Frankie Knuckles died in 2014, but he still casts a long shadow over dance music in Chicago and around the world. That much will be evident when a gaggle of top-shelf DJs and singers gathers to pay tribute to him Sunday at Metro and Smart Bar to raise funds for his nonprofit educational and cultural organization, the Frankie Knuckles Foundation.
Knuckles is first among equals when it comes to house music, the sound that he nurtured in Chicago clubs such as the Warehouse and Power Plant after disco faltered in the late '70s and early '80s.
"People love Frankie so much because so many people fight over house music — (they argue about) who was first. But a lot of people put it to Frankie, because he was such a humble and talented person," says Michael Serafini, who will be among the DJs spinning at the Knuckles tribute with David Morales, Louis Vega, Terry Hunter, Derrick Carter and others. "Frankie was never into competition (for recognition). He was always welcoming."
A longtime Chicago DJ and owner of the revered Gramaphone Records shop on Clark Street, Serafini often worked together with Knuckles in the last decade and saw firsthand the impact he had on dance culture. "He was part of that generation of house music that jumped from being on small labels to being released on major labels like Virgin and Jive. It was a period that saw house grow from a local phenomenon to something much bigger."
DJ Michael Serafini works the turntable. He will be among the DJs spinning at the Frankie Knuckles tribute on Sunday at Metro.
Knuckles came out of the New York disco scene in the '70s and he became known as "the godfather of house" after moving to Chicago and working the turntables at the West Side club the Warehouse. He would extend mixes of soul and R&B records and turn them into dance tracks, introduce new singles being produced by fledgling house artists and incorporate drum machines to emphasize the beat. His sets were revered for the way they built momentum and created drama, and held packed dance floors in thrall from Saturday night till dawn and beyond Sunday morning.
He also played a key role as a tastemaker, de facto talent scout, and producer, working with artists such as Jamie Principle and remixing records by Whitney Houston, Michael Jackson and Depeche Mode. His major-label albums incorporated the lush orchestrations he favored as a DJ.
It was an era of dance music that changed Serafini's life. He grew up on the South Side in the '80s and was introduced to house music by the Hot Mix 5 DJs on WBMX radio and saw luminaries such as Ron Hardy spin at his high school, Brother Rice.
"When I started to realize I was gay, I wanted music that represented me, and that was house," he says. "That music came from black and gay culture and it embraced being different. It said it was OK to be that way."
A tribute honoring Frankie Knuckles, known as the godfather of house music, may have found a new Chicago home.
At the time, house was simply viewed as popular music in Chicago. It only exploded internationally when locally produced records and DJs became favorites in Europe in the late '80s and early '90s.
"Deejaying wasn't looked at as an art form or career," he says. "You did it when you were young and moved on."
A second wave of Chicago DJs emerged in the '90s that carried the music forward. As a teen, Serafini was hanging out at clubs such as the Prime 'n' Tender in Summit, Ill., and the North Side juice bar Medusa's, then graduated to the mega dance clubs in his 20s.
"There were two golden eras: the '80s and '90s, and the '90s were my generation, 21-plus people going to clubs like Shelter and hearing Cajmere, Ron Trent, Mark Farina, DJ Sneak. … There would be 2000 people in a club, and you're hearing (Cajmere's) 'Percolator' for the first time. People followed those DJs religiously."
In the last decade, dance music has grown from club music to a multibillion-dollar industry. In addition to running Gramaphone, Serafini is in demand as a DJ around the world.
"It's very strange to me, because (in 25 years) I went from my mother telling me to give up my stupid little hobby to being flown to London to DJ," he says. But he's skeptical about the large-scale festivals and stadium events that have given dance music unprecedented popularity in North America.
"I think it's a blip, reflective of a generation — a computer generation of young kids," he says. "The music at those festivals, it's not the same. Even Frankie playing at those events is not the same as the Frankie of the old days when he'd really build a set and take you somewhere, a journey. (At festivals) a lot of these DJs play for an hour, and it's hard to understand a DJ's musical point of view in an hour. Deejaying was about a personal connection, aurally. The music now is all about energy."
The scale of big dance events compels DJs to act more as cheerleaders than as musical guides. At the Chicago clubs of the '80s and '90s "it was not about staring at a DJ, arm waving and waiting for what's next. It was about dancing and interacting. That's what was famous about Frankie's parties throughout history. When you went to the Warehouse, you'd see this mix of people ... black and white and Latino. It sounds cheesy, but house music was music for everybody. Anyone can make it, and anyone can dance to it."