In the class waiting room, students are strongly advised to use headphones. As they digitally file in, cameras turn on to reveal multi-coloured, space-themed backgrounds. Planets, milky ways and cosmic cliffs comprise a galactic tile mosaic. Who knew Zoom could be so pretty? Once headphones are secured, "Dancing Into The Stars" by Logg builds a bridge between various cities, dorms and Professor King Britt's University of California San Diego studio, where in front of a blood moon he nods along to the music, greets students and IDs the track. "This was a huge hit at the Garage in New York," he said.

This is MUS 19R or Blacktronika: Afrofuturism, an online university course officially housed at UC San Diego but open to the whole UC system. The ten-week class traces the history of electronic music through the oft-overlooked lens of its Black and Brown pioneers, from disco and house to techno and drum & bass, and all the sub-genres in between. Every week, students get a crash course on a specific genre. They learn about its sociopolitical context and listen to a live interview with an artist with first-hand knowledge of the subject.

The topic this week is New York and New Jersey House (with a brief sojourn into its Chicago roots) and the guest is Josh Milan of the foundational New Jersey group Blaze. Our learning goals for the class include being able to differentiate between Chicago and New York house, and understanding the technology that helped create the sound.

Professor Britt has a lot to cover, but first, Beyoncé. Earlier that morning she had announced the dates for her highly anticipated tour. The class is in its fourth year, but the resonance of teaching in this moment, as dance music has found greater footing in mainstream pop, is not lost on our professor.

"The reality of this tour is because these youth were working in their bedroom creating this music with minimal equipment, not knowing the type of influence this music would have on the whole world," he said in his preamble. "It changed the world. Her whole tour is dedicated to that sound. That's really powerful."

He takes a beat.

"You're in a class that's making history forreal."

The Blacktronika: Afrofuturism in Electronic Music exhibition at the UC San Diego library features an assortment of Britt’s course materials and a selection of vintage and modern electronica instruments-of-interest.

Britt, a veteran producer, DJ, label head and educator, arrived in coastal San Diego four years ago from his hometown of 50-plus years, Philadelphia, to teach electronic music production. A short while into his teaching, one major oversight began to nag at him. "I'm checking out like all the classes and I'm like, wait, no one's talking about funk," he said over Zoom. "No one is talking about house, Detroit techno. Nobody's talking about freestyle. No one's talking about dub [in academia]. And I'm like, yo, so I started looking at other colleges, there are no classes anywhere."

At this point, Britt paused to note people like DJ Lynnée Denise, who has since taught classes at UCLA and Stanford, and Suzi Analogue, who recently joined the faculty in the University of North Carolina's Music Department. But in 2019, his search for long-running courses came up empty, so with "carte blanche" from the UC San Diego's Music Department, he set about making one.

This particular kind of course correcting has usually taken place in non-classroom settings. For years, figures and institutions in the dance music scene with a predilection for pedagogy have used virtual spaces like websites and blogs, and physical spaces like festivals, one off talks and workshops to address this historic oversight. In techno's hallowed ground of Detroit, you can see archive building in real time at Underground Resistance's techno museum, Exhibit 3000 (and the forthcoming Underground Music Academy). But the greatest source of inspiration for Professor Britt's work is the now-shuttered Red Bull Music Academy, a 20-year, first-person archive of electronic music history slash souped-up summer camp for artists with which Britt first collaborated in 1998. (Full disclosure: I was employed by RBMA in 2018 and 2019).

"Red Bull Music Academy kind of opened the doors for a lot of this," Britt said. "And that's actually my blueprint for Blacktronika. When that stopped, it was kind of like, how do we continue that? I am in the position to do that and create an archive."

The archive is the true goldmine of Britt's class. While he's not sure on the exact number of interviewees, he feels confident it's over 100. Whoever comes to mind for your electronic music Mount Rushmore, Britt has likely had in class: Herbie Hancock, Jeff Mills, Juan Atkins, Honey Dijon, Goldie—the list goes on and on. Being close friends with most of his guests, or at most being two degrees apart, has made the conversations deeply personal. Josh Milan's interview opened with congratulations on his wedding anniversary which dovetailed into a conversation about the importance of partnership in artistic production. Britt's close relationships have also allowed him to facilitate connections most others would find near impossible to coordinate.

"I used to surprise guests with other guests," he said. "I had Roni Size all set. And then I said, I'm gonna surprise Roni. So I called up Bahamadia like, 'Yo, you gotta pop in.' She's like, 'Oh my God. Yeah, for sure.' Called up Giles Peterson, 'I got Roni, we're gonna talk about the album.' He's like, 'Oh yeah, no problem. But it's gonna be 3 AM for me.'"

Britt, reenacting the moment, shrugged his shoulders, "I'm like 'There's nothing I can do.' He was completely tired, but he got on! Then I called Vikter Duplaix, 'I'm like, yo, Roni's coming in. He's like, oh yeah, I'll be in.' So that class was crazy… and Virgil popped in on that one."

Virgil is Virgil Abloh, the late fashion designer and DJ who Britt met years ago through Ron Trent. He often joined the classes anonymously. The students were unaware but Britt gave his teaching assistants a heads up so they could let him into the Zoom room. "He knew the music," Britt said. "He used to pop in all the time as a fly on the wall and just listen."

The second week I joined class, for the Detroit techno lecture (special guest: Wajeed), Francisco Mora Catlett, a former member of Sun Ra's Arkestra, listened in. "HI CLASS (smiley face)," he posted in the chat. A wave of greetings returned. While the content may be innovative for a university setting, the structure of the course skews traditional. It's a three-hour lecture, with TAs, sections, occasional cold-calling and homework. Although, to be fair, the assignments aren't so traditional—one week the students were instructed to make a dance video.

Opening with context, the course spends an hour scanning through tomes-worth of social and political histories that anchor the development of the music—the AIDS crisis and house music, the Detroit riots and the birth of techno, the fall of the Berlin wall and the rebirth of techno in Europe. Context in this case is more for scene setting, not rigorous analysis: like a theatrical backdrop, it's produced through visceral imagery and Britt's anecdotal narration. Instead, deep meditation is reserved for listening, which is arguably the most accessible and powerful channel for impact.

With every song played, and there are many, the chat lights up. In the New York House class, in response to the Jungle Brothers' "Girl I'll House You," someone writes "I've heard ALL these samples across hundreds of different house songs, wow." At another point, this time to Donna Summer's "I Feel Love," another writes, "this song is how my grandma put me on." And once we get to freestyle, another reflection: "it's amazing to recognise the evolution." Britt doesn't have time to respond to the chat during class but his demeanour is that of a lifelong learner, full of wonder and delight. During Strafe's "Set It Off," he chimes in, "to those with headphones…I know you hear that bass!"

"You have students from STEM, from communications, from biology," said Pablo Dodero, one of Britt's TAs. Clocking in at around 280 students, the class invites a wide range of perspectives. "It's funny because when we have somebody in class like Jeff Mills or like Herbie Hancock, the students don't always know who they are," said Dodero. "It makes it very democratic in a way where it reminds the artists that there are generations who are just learning who you are. Even if you're super famous."

Tyshawn Sorey and King Britt at the "Blacktronika : Where I Stand" Festival held at the UC San Diego Epstein Family Amphitheater October 29th, 2022.

Tanya Hairston, a senior in psychology who took Britt's class this quarter and is currently auditing the class, didn't have much of a reference for the music before joining. She needed more credits to qualify for her financial aid and the class sounded interesting. "I signed up not fully knowing what I was getting into, but being really curious about it," she told me over the phone. "I like to hear things that Black people have created being a Black person. But not necessarily electronic music, which was what made me curious about the class. I thought it was really awesome."

During office hours with Britt, Hairston and other classmates would mess around with his Minimoog, play records and talk about their lives. "It's not the most academic office hours," said Hairston. "But I feel like it's a source of community for me."

The class was impactful in more ways than one. After reading DeForrest Brown in class, Hairston's academic priorities shifted and she decided to minor in African-American Studies. However, the biggest takeaway from Blacktronika was much more personal. "At the beginning of every class Professor Britt defines Afrofuturism," she said. "Essentially, like the idea of Black Excellence in all facets. It made me feel like I can do anything that I want with my life. I don't have to wait for there to be a blueprint for it. If I can imagine it, I can go create that reality."

This autumn, Britt will attempt to do the class in person for the first time, having found a classroom with the right acoustics for deep listening. He's in talks with many more artist-friends about guesting, including Arca (a potential collaboration with Latin American Studies), and is taking cues from the interests of his students—Lil Nas X collaborators Take a Daytrip will close out this quarter's session. He's curated an exhibition on campus and has put on three Blacktronika festivals with more to come. But what animates him the most is continuing to broaden access to the class material. "I want to do a Blacktronika tour of [historically Black colleges and universities]," he said. "I noticed that their music departments aren't talking about this music. That would be my dream."

The first Blacktronika guest was the late Greg Tate, the great Black music critic, who spoke with Ytasha Womack about Afrofuturism. "Greg told me, 'I'm so glad you're doing this archive because in 20 years this is gonna be the most powerful archive about Black music,'" Britt said, recalling the class. "He's my ancestor now and he's always been a mentor to me. So since the first day of class, that's been my mission. This is my purpose."

King Britt standing outside the exhibition, which opened on February 7th, 2023.