See, most of the dance-music world is all "Zero fucks given" attitude, but it doesn't take much more than a scroll through Twitter to see what a joke that is — that, on the contrary, the DJs are hoarding and hogging all the fucks. It's why dance music (pick your niche) is so often so petty and so soul-drainingly professionalized, a shell game for monetizing hubris. And that professionalism is, of course, an understandable response to a collapsing industry and a shit economy and the day-to-day grind of just trying to stay paid, so no shots, exactly. Just: Don't people dream any more?
And then here came DJ Rashad claiming not to give a fuck, but he so clearly did; you don't come up with music so ruthlessly kinetic, so maniacally focused, without giving some kind of fuck, even if that fuck doesn't extend further than your craft and your own crew. But we'll take it. Like all of Rashad's work, the song is structurally as simple as can be: Just a looped snippet of Tupac Shakur, in Juice, spitting "I don't give a fuck about you" over palpitating toms and erratic EKG bleeps, a smoldering rage spinning dangerously out of control. It's been a while since there's been a zero-hour in electronic music, and it would be a stretch to claim "IDGAF" as one, given that footwork has been growing its profile for years now. But this song and its internalized mosh-pit energies still felt like wiping the slate clean; it gave voice to the nagging feeling, familiar to most, that maybe it wouldn't be the worst idea to rip it all up and start again. P.S.