Remembering Ron Carroll

In this CLUB WIRE episode, a heartfelt tribute to Ron Carroll, Chicago's legendary house vocalist and DJ, who passed at 57. From gospel roots to timeless anthems like "I Get Lifted," we celebrate the voice that lifted house music's soul. Rest in beats, Ron.


Become a supporter of this podcast: https://www.spreaker.com/podcast/clubwire--6631315/support.

Episode Transcript

Speaker 1 (00:00):
Welcome to clubwire your pulse on the global electronic scene,
where beats drop, stories rise, and the dancefloor never forgets.
I'm your host, Eliza, and today we're turning down the
lights for a moment of reflection. The house music world
has lost one of its most soulful architects. Ron Carroll,

(00:21):
the legendary Chicago vocalist, DJ, producer, and all around force
of nature, has passed away at the age of fifty seven.
As news broke on September twenty first, twenty twenty five,
tributes poured in from every corner of the globe, painting
a picture of a man whose voice didn't just echo
through clubs, it lifted spirits, bridged generations, and defined the

(00:45):
very soul of house. Born Ronald Michael Carroll on April twentieth,
nineteen sixty eight, in the heart of Chicago, Ron's journey
into music was as organic as a gospel choir swelling
on a Sunday morning. Growing up, he sang in church choirs,
his voice honing that raw emotive power that would later

(01:06):
become his signature. But it was a teenage crush on
rock icons like Kiss that f sparked his rebellious fire
until a high school dance introduced him to the hypnotic
pulse of house music. That beat hit me like a revelation,
he once recalled in an interview describing how the genre's
underground energy flipped his world upside down. From there, Ron

(01:29):
dove headfirst into Chicago's burgeoning scene, blending his gospel roots
with the city's raw four on the floor innovation. By
his early twenties, Ron was already making waves on the
Illinois club circuit. His debut single, My Prayer, dropped in
nineteen ninety three on af Rhythm Mixed Sounds remixed by
house heavyweights like Ron, Trent Hula, and Kay Fingers, a

(01:51):
track that fused spiritual yearning with club ready grooves, setting
the tone for his career. But Ron wasn't content to
just sing. He was a multi hyphenitt maestro. As a songwriter,
He penned anthems that became house staples, most notably I
Get Lifted for Barbara Tucker, a euphoric call to arms
that's still a peak time destroyer in sets worldwide. Its

(02:14):
collaborations read like a who's who of electronic royalty from
Superfunk and French sensations, funky hooks to hard soul's deep dives,
Huxley's melodic twists, and even mainstream crossovers with C. C. Peniston,
Harry Romero, Hot since eighty two, David Ghetta, Kelly Rowland,
Axwell and Bob Sinclair, who could forget his velvet vocals

(02:38):
on Sinclair's Love Generation, or tribute tracks that turn house
into global pop anthems while keeping the underground heart intact.
Ron's discography is a treasure trove of under the radar
bangers over thirty years of releases on powerhouse labels like Defected, Glitterbox, Patcha,
Milk and Sugar Moon Harbor, and his own imprints Body

(03:02):
Music Chicago and Afro Disco Chicago. He wasn't just making music,
he was building bridges as a DJ and promoter, Ron
through his own parties when bookings dried up. Acting as
the ultimate connector between international stars and local Chicago talent.
He championed vocalists in a producer dominated world in sisting

(03:25):
they get top billing and fair shakes, a quiet revolution
that empowered a generation of singers to claim their spotlight.
Ron was the guy who'd pull up with promos in hand,
ready to hype everyone else's project before his own, remembers
a longtime collaborator from five Magazine. His recent remix of

(03:45):
the classic The Sermon by Twin and Billy O'Malley on
Afro Disco Chicago Pure Fire, proving his influence never dimmed.
Even in his final days, Ron was unstoppable. His last
performance lit up Chicago's Summer's Last Dance Festival, where his set,
a masterclass and soulful house, had the crowd lost in

(04:07):
the rhythm. He was slated to bring that energy to
Amsterdam Dance event Ade twenty twenty five, a testament to
his tireless global grind, but on September twenty first, the
music stopped too soon. No cause of death has been disclosed,
leaving fans and friends to grapple with the void. The
outpouring has been seismic. Ron wasn't just an icon, he

(04:31):
was family, posted the history of house music community on Facebook,
echoing sentiments from Djay's producers and fans alike. Instagram reels
from Chicago's scene highlight his unsung hero status with clips
of his live vocals over classics like Back Together sending chills.

(04:51):
Edm dot com called him one of house music's most
iconic voices, a legacy etched in every lyric that ever
made you move. And in a city like Chicago, where
house was born from black and queer resilience, Ron embodied
that spirit, warm, collaborative, forever pushing the sound forward as

(05:12):
we spin into the weekend. Club Wire dedicates this set
to Ron. Crank Up, I get lifted, feel that gospel
lift one more time, and remember, in house, we don't
say goodbye, we say see you on the dance floor.
Rest in beats, Ron Carrol, You've lifted us all. That's
it for this heartfelt edition of club Wire. Drop your

(05:33):
tributes in the comments, Share your favorite Ron track, and
stay wired to the scene until next time. Keep the
faith and the base high. Peace,