Gather ‘round all rap listeners turned ravers! Come near all those who have heard the genius of bass music—there is a revival happening within dubstep!

And its name is trap. Yes, indeed! An undeniable, reverberating, boisterous evolution of trap music is upon us. Let us rejoice… and buss it open!

So, what is trap? Genre influences in today’s electronic dance music (EDM) are so integrated it can be nearly impossible to carve out discrete classifications for songs, artists, or projects. I am fully aware that some songs I classify as trap, others may just deem dubstep. Given that both genres have the same average beats per minute, the catch-all term “140” emerged. One of my favorite, titillating challenges in exploring bass music is seeing what onomatopoeia word-soup I will inevitably try to string together to describe music that I didn’t know was possible. “Who really cares as long as you enjoy it, right?” Me! Genres matter! So alas, we find ourselves at this article.

Bottomline: I want you to experience more (electronic) trap music in 2025.

This is how I define electronic trap music:

A hip-hop forward production style defined by prominent, rhythmic percussion arrangements combined with swaggering mids or highs that command the body to move. Trap culminates in a darker, bouncier soundscape that conveys a blend of dominant, prideful, flippant, or sensual attitudes.

It differs from its resonant soulmate, dubstep, which is a bass-driven production style defined by syncopated rhythms and low-end frequencies that anchor its emotional core. Its UK roots deliver shadowy, minimalist grooves with hypnotic sub-bass, while its modern evolution channels mechanical textures and explosive drops into more chaotic, cathartic energy.

I should mention that I have a clear bias towards the deeper, drum-based flavor of dubstep over the more metallic kind, but I enjoy both.

A little history— #fortheculture. Trap music has its roots in the southern rap of the 90’s, with the emergence of a subgenre that pointedly addressed the “trappings” of the harsh lifestyle of urban drug-dealing. The toughness of those realities undoubtedly influenced not only the content but the sound profile of the subgenre. Trap is a term that originated in Atlanta, GA and is short for “trap house,” a house used exclusively for distributing drugs.

The essential trap sound was pioneered by producers like Mannie Fresh, Shawty Redd, and Dj Toomp, making unique use of the Roland TR 808 machine to bring forth the deep, textured bass tones that we now know and love. These paired with the hi-hat triplet notes (now a mainstay of contemporary rap music) are the hallmarks of trap.

808 example #1:

808 example #2:

Hi-hat triplet notes:

Trap took a major step forward in the early 2000’s through the production styles utilized by T.I., Gucci Mane, and Jeezy. It is arguably more important to highlight producers than rappers when discussing its pedigree. According to its Wikipedia page, the seminal piece that magnified trap’s popularity in the mainstream was Waka Flocka Flames’ 2010 Flockavelli album, whose lead producer was Lex Luger. It’s no wonder a good number of Flame’s songs are now the target of seismic bass flips. As its popularity grew, the themes present in trap diversified, but trap remains a distinctly production-driven subgenre of rap that came to shape the overall sound and attitude of popular, radio-hit hip hop.

In addition to Flockavelli, albums such as T.I’s King (“What You Know” produced by DJ Toomp), Gucci Mane’s The State vs Radric Davis (“Wasted” produced by Fatboi), and Jeezy’s TM103: Hustlerz Ambition (“Lose My Mind” produced Drumma Boy) sent waves through the rap scene in the late 2000s. Trap was soon crossbred with EDM by the likes of RL Grime, Baauer, and Flosstradamus in the first half of the 2010’s. “Higher” a collaboration with Baauer, Just Blaze, and Jay Z is an old favorite and good representation of this era. Once introduced by these artists, often by vigorous use of foghorns and scratchy synths, a wider integration of rap-inspired production permeated the bass world. This combination greatly expanded the experiential range present in a trap track, and led to trap’s evolution into the sophisticated and unprecedented bass renditions we hear today.

I didn’t realize it at the time, but the first electronic trap song I ever fell in love with was Carnage’s Remix of Hardwell’s “Spaceman” the song I chose to open this article. The remix’s rousing build combined with its muscular bassline takes me back to intense afternoons at LA Fitness during my junior year of high school, lifting ferociously to build my dream physique. “Spaceman” was quickly followed by Antiserum and Mayhem’s collab “Trippy”, which possessed me for several weeks. These dynamic, high-energy songs charged me up with the determined feeling of a pre-game entrance. As I gradually got more exposure, my EDM palette would be seeded by the likes of Alison Wonderland’s “I Want You”, Bassnectar’s “Speakerbox”1, and Keys N Krates “Dum Dee Dum”, which foreshadowed my passion for the blend of trap’s intoxicating 808 drums and choppy snares with the wider variety of sounds and arrangements offered by dubstep and melodic bass. What we’re seeing today is often the blend of dubstep or brostep sound design and patterns stacked on top of trap-born basslines— and my god, is it a glorious combination.

Here’s what trapstep can sound like:

The infectiousness and persistent popularity of electronic trap is best validated by the explosive rise of Tape B (aka Kemal Berk Alkanat). While Tape B leads heavily with dubstep, he also tore through the ranks of stardom with signature flips of Mac Miller, Wiz Khalifa, and Schoolboy Q. His flip of Wiz Khalifa’s “On My Level” is what did it for me. Berk’s uncanny ability to weave the attitudes and memories of these iconic songs into new arrangements supercharged with hard-hitting basslines and fresh, gritty riffs of sound unleashes an even more vibrant experience of the emotions I associate with trap. The rise of Tape B is a noteworthy moment for trap and EDM-adapted hip-hop in general, but by the time I got on board with Tape B, I had already long-indulged myself in the music I always truly craved. This indulgence was thanks to the likes of Troyboi, Daily Bread, Of the Trees, and MZG. I was drawn to these artists because in the predominantly white EDM scene, where bass music trends seem to be substantially guided by the heavy-brostep/riddim fanbases, their stylings made me feel acknowledged and celebrated as a Black raver. They doubled as an homage to the hip hop culture that bore the original music that inspired them, and that was deeply valuable and inviting to me. I’ll never forget the instant rapport I created with Seth David the first time I saw him play in a small dive bar and shouted “WE LOVE TRAP!” After hearing his flips of Cardi B’s “Up” and Black Eyed Peas’ “My Humps”, tell me you wouldn’t shout the same thing. It means so much to me that my eventual friendship with Seth David—perhaps the leading Black producer in the current bass scene—would be initiated by a love for this kind of music.

In a deeper sense, the punch and power of these artists’ basslines spoke to the difficulties I had encountered and overcome in my own life. The bouncy, clever polyrhythms reflected the playfulness and humor I insisted on keeping along the way.

Some of the best news about the EDM bass scene right now is that there is an abundance of artists who, I believe, offer high-quality experiences of trap music.

While they play many other styles in addition to trap (plenty of deep dubstep and experimental techniques present here), I implore you, dear reader, to please go see any of the following:

FLY, Troyboi, Daily Bread, MZG, Zen Selekta, Seth David, Barclay Crenshaw, Jaenga, Super Future, STVSH, or Zingara.

I listed them loosely in order of who I think provides the purest representation of the trap sound I’m highlighting in this piece. When you do go see those artists, listen for what you think the trap sound is. Which emotions does it conjure in you? How does it make you want to dance?

Why must I make a point of naming and praising trap music? It’s deeper than just a conviction in my own tastes. What are the conditions that truly embolden you? What is your relationship with confrontation? With your ego? What makes you feel like you can take up space? On a core emotional level, I believe that the experience of trap is about one’s ability to harness the dark, to dance with our shadow—and enjoy it. You don’t have to have any experience with the illicit drug market to feel that. In the intimidating rumble of our darkness, trap urges us to wield the power of radical self-endorsement; wield the power of persistence against formidable odds; wield the power of letting ourselves be big, bold, and brazen.

Distilling the attitude of an entire branch of music into a handful of emotional experiences may be a fool’s task, but stay with me as I do just that.

How does it feel to accomplish something you were told by many you could not do?

How does it feel when you stand up for yourself, even if it scares the hell out of you?

How does it feel when that new outfit looks exactly as great on you as you thought it would?

How does it feel to meet a familiar, triggering situation and know that you now outmatch your demons?

Whether I’m rolling my body, stomp-banging, twerking, flaunting my grossest stank face, or bouncing as if I just entered the ring of a heavyweight title fight, trap energy is a sonic lightning bolt that grants me the psychic power to shrink my insecurities, vaporize my self-doubt, and dance in whatever way makes me feel badass in that moment. I dance forcefully; I take up a lot of space, and I revel in it. The sense of power that captures my body when hit with a deep, growling bassline is unmistakable; add in the right chop of rap lyrics or some provocative mid tones and that is the closest I get to going Super Saiyan. That’s how I feel during a FLY set.

Trap is the vibrational flex zone.

Trap is the uncompromising rhythm.

Trap is the defiant staredown…with a smirk.

Trap is the melanated middle finger of the DJ’s mix.

Trap means “fuck it, we ball.”

After successfully pressuring my coworker Joe to come with me to a Zen Selekta show nearly two hours away from us, I mildly danced while trying to figure out what to say to the woman herself as she watched one of her openers. In the car, I had told Joe how I wanted to give her this heartfelt explanation of how the powerful emotional connection I feel with her sets leads me to believe that we would actually get along on a date—and then ask her out. I was most definitely nervous. But then I remembered the coexistence of ferocity and beauty that enamored me with her in the first place, and I thought, “just go for it.” I approached Nicole. I reminded her of our first encounter back in Denver, and then shared with her how her music “makes me feel like nothing can stand in my way.” Then, I asked her out.

I had been having a difficult time with life throughout 2024, struggling to stay motivated and hopeful after repeated setbacks and untimely disappointments. The day after seeing both Tape B and Zen Selekta play in my hometown I sent the following text to a friend:

“I’ve been reminded that bass music gives me power. It draws out the rawest, loudest form of my natural essence—the Fuck Yeah from the bottom of my heart. It moves me to move other people. And further, I was reminded that I can use this connection to the music to channel different emotions when doing the work to heal and improve my circumstances.

“I don’t have to let it be an escape at all. I can approach it as a means to recharge. And remember our divine right to actually love this human existence.”

So this year, we stay trappin’.

Stan Njuguna is a contributor to The Dancers’ Dispatch, and you can follow him on Instagram and Threads.

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This article and its voiceover include a number of excellent songs: “Spaceman- Carnage Festival Trap Remix” by Hardwell and Carnage, “Miss the Rage (BLOOM Remix")” by Trippie Redd and BLOOM, “15th & the 1st (Know Good Edit)” by M?stic, Waka Flocka, and Gucci Mane, and “WORK (Flip)” by Saka and FLY.