Mr. Fingers “Can You Feel It”

The birth of our underground brand, Factory 93, not only brought on an adrenaline rush reminiscent of the renegade warehouse era of raving—on which Insomniac was founded—but it also had us thinking back to all the people, places and parties that made this whole operation possible. And with that came a burning desire to crack open our collection and dust off the classic records we couldn’t live without. Through our From the Crate series, we break out seminal and obscure cuts alike, imparting some knowledge in the process.

There’s a reason why so many of house music’s early releases have endured over the decades. The best of them have a haunting quality—defined by an emotional eloquence, sometime expressed through the barest of means—that can be conveyed through lyrics, through spine-tingling melodies and instrumentation, or even just pure ineffable vibe. Perhaps it’s that the genre’s producers were still in an exploratory mode, striving to reach the heavens via limited equipment (and often, limited musical training), that gives those archetypal, otherworldly releases such depth of feeling.

Whatever the reason, there is a surfeit of ‘80s-era house tunes that can burrow into your psyche and touch your soul. “Your Love” from Frankie Knuckles and Jamie Principle, Master C & J’s first few records, Adonis’ “No Way Back,” Nitro Deluxe’s “Let’s Get Brutal,” all first released in 1986—these tunes can still induce shivers more than three decades on. One of the most moving and resonant of the class of ‘86 was “Can You Feel It” by Larry “Mr. Fingers” Heard.

By 1986, Heard—who was born and bred in Chicago and been playing in bands as a drummer—had already proved to the world that he was a master of poignant, enthralling house. The previous year’s elegant “Mystery of Love,” originally released on Alleviated Records, had featured an insistent ascending bassline repeating under a plaintive, swooning analog synth, with a gentle, conga-led rhythm setting the pace. It was soon rerecorded in a slightly more fleshed-out style, this time featuring frequent collaborator Robert Owens on vocals—”There’s a moment in our lives when we all must try the mystery of love”—and rereleased on D.J. International.

The song helped to set the Larry Heard template: A hollowed-out bass underlies percolating percussion, while a deceptively spare instrumentation lays out a wistful, yearning melody, all blanketed with ethereal ambience. But “Can You Feel It,” released by Trax Records the next year on an EP that also boasts the equally dreamy “Washing Machine,” took that mold and refined it into exquisite, crystalline form.

(If you look closely at the EP’s run-out track, you’ll see the letters “BP.” Those are the initials of Bud Pressner, a sax and clarinet player and former bandleader from Gary, Indiana, born in 1920. He served as the mastering engineer for the EP, as he did with a slew of other canonical Chicago house records. A story unto himself, Pressner is well worth researching if you have any interest in house’s hidden history.)

As with most house of the era—the exceptions being disco- and R&B-derived tunes like Farley “Jackmaster” Funk’s “Love Can’t Turn Around”—the components of “Can You Feel It” are few. There’s a throbbing kick, tuned so loosely as to make it feel like the head’s in danger of falling from the drum; cascading hi-hats, shivering and shimmering; a three-chord synth pattern that flirts with melancholy; occasional distant pads and crisp countermelody; and most of all, that angular, acidic low-end. With this track, along with “Washing Machine,” Heard had perfected his signature bass sound: an alien signal, caving in upon itself, that’s simultaneously soothing and a little bit disconcerting. In 1986, it seemed like a beacon from the farthest reaches of the galaxy; even today, it’s one of the most identifiable tones in electronic music.

Heard himself has claimed to have little distinct memory of making “Can You Feel It,” saying it was merely the result of fooling around with some newly acquired gear. But apparently, “Can You Feel It” was first laid down on tape in 1984; the same session yielded a much slower, 110-BPM prototype of “Mystery of Love.” Roland’s Juno-60 polyphonic synthesizer provided the bass and melody, while the drums were courtesy of a TR-909. A friend came up with the song’s title; Heard has admitted in interviews that he’s not adept at naming his own work. The track ended up in the hands of the influential Chicago DJs of the era—Frankie Knuckles, Ron Hardy, et al—and eventually made its way to Trax Records’ Vince Lawrence.

A few years later, alternate versions of “Can You Feel It” surfaced. One featured Chuck Roberts’ “In the beginning, there was Jack” spiel, along with the oft-used “Can you feel it” sample from a live Jacksons recording. British house godfather “Evil” Eddie Richards is the man responsible for committing the Roberts version to vinyl, though DJs had been layering those words on top of the instrumental for years. Another version that has its roots in DJ sets includes bits from Martin Luther King’s “I Have a Dream” speech; yet another features Owens’s silken, soulful emoting.

But really, all that vocalizin’ and speechifyin’ is unnecessary; if anything, the vocals on those later versions detract from the idea that something as graceful and full of feeling as “Can You Feel It” can be wrung from a handful of circuit boards. And really, how could anything improve upon the transcendent ‘86 Trax release, a song that feels like a blissful caress?

In a 2016 interview, the modest Heard, still active and still producing beautiful music, has this to say about his work: “I could make ‘Can You Feel It’ or ‘Mystery of Love,’ but I had no control over whether people received them positively. So you just try to, as they say, put your best foot forward.” He’s done far more that that—he’s created the music of our dreams.