Absorb the name DJ Plant Texture, and the first thing that comes to mind might be skunky, blossoming downtempo. The Italian producer born Donato Basile actually crafts pummeling hardgroove techno that always seems within half an inch of the red. Following a string of gritty EPs for the Zenker Brothers’ Ilian Tape label, DJ Plant Texture has debuted on Berlin club staple Tresor with the album Life. The record pulls from themes of aging and fear of growing up, channeling that anxiety through twitchy intensity. On “Cycles,” jagged synths squiggle over a lead footed 909. The track expertly marries freneticism and austerity.

New York City’s Sorry Records is a foundational local presence. Launched by DJ Nick Boyd in 2016, the label and party series platforms vital DIY artists, while keeping it cheeky enough to throw Groundhog Day parties and use a Sesame Street bootleg meme for a Bandcamp header. After a reasonably quiet 2024, Sorry has kicked off the year with a new full-length from label mainstay C Powers. Unlawful Assembly is a grainy instrumental homage to Atlanta-born Powers’ involvement in tenant organizing and abolition movements on the West Coast. The tracks incorporate samples captured during harrowing lockdown protests, and were tested on unconventional speaker systems, specifically employed for activism. The Unlawful Assembly cut “Lombard” is notably inventive, flipping a “Fuck the police!” megaphone call into chunky midtempo that reminds me of Lurka’s “Stay Lets Together.” It’s well suited for an era in which flickering strobes and glycerin scented haze act as a reprieve from the turbulence.

Joe Plumber’s Forest Drive West moniker became a defining force in UK club music by accident. The East London producer found his footing as a fixture on Peverelist’s Livity Sound imprint in the mid 2010s, quickly producing deep techno in pockets of free time between teaching computer science classes and raising a child. In the years to come, Plumber has ascended far beyond his initial goals as a hobbyist, releasing tracks spanning styles from jungle to dub techno on venerated labels including Echocord, R&S Records, and AD 93. The latest Forest Drive West EP, Masking, arrives via the Zenker Brothers’ Ilian Tape and is all brooding atmospheres and snarling low end. On “Ziggurat,” hypnotic hand drums and hi-hats dominate the brighter frequencies, while resonant kicks and distorted bass bumps weave through pearly pads below. In spite of the melodic elements at play, the cut feels entirely percussive.

DJ Holographic imbues the simplicity of Detroit techno with funky warmth. The artist born Ariel Corley inaugurates her new label, Through The Veil, with her full-length debut, House In The Dark. Across 12 tracks, each named for a different zodiac sign, Corley aims to reimagine Afrofuturism through a queer, metaphysical lens. I am perhaps biased as someone with a late January birthday, but “Aquarius” strikes me as the strongest track on the album. A flappy, repetitive bassline and bleepy, singed lead crest above brawny, four on the floor drum machine sequencing. It’s the firmest moment on the cosmic LP.

Sam Smith’s Ploy alias materialized in a coveted corner of the dance scene, debuting on Hessle Audio in 2016 before putting out a string of records on Batu’s Timedance label. Straddling techno and bass, his music has morphed from subterranean to straight up explosive in the years to come, as Smith has become synonymous with the steamy peak time bustle. Smith’s latest album — the ominously, albeit impishly titled It’s Later Than You Think — is his first for Amsterdam’s prestigious Dekmantel imprint. It finds him toying with tech house, after growing disillusioned with the maximalism of bass music. No aspect of the record seems to stay still for long, as evidenced on the penultimate track “Sauna.” Chirpy bleeps and a faded voice snippet interlock atop a sturdy drum machine beat peppered with rolling fills. It all sounds as effortless as it does modern.

Emerging from the UK in the ’90s, the Birmingham sound is as fanged as it is dismal. Sandwell District is a record label and loose collective helmed by Dave Sumner (aka Function) and Karl O’Connor (aka Regis), aided by Juan Mendez (aka Silent Servant), Peter Sutton (aka Female), and others in passing. Launched in the early 2000s, Sandwell District violently careened towards a messy dissolution after roughly a decade, when Sumner failed to show up for a gig at London institution fabric. Following a period in which its members were on foul terms, Sandwell District is back with the album End Beginnings, which sparked due to encouragement from the late Mark Lanegan. End Beginnings also stands as a tribute to Mendez, who died of an overdose in 2024. The album is as steely as one might expect, given the tragedy and interpersonal tumult that shaped it. Aided by Mønic and Rivet, “Restless” captures this stoicism particularly well, deceptively melodic noise coasting over a crackly industrial groove. Tailored for dancing in bunkers, it feels indebted to concrete contours and the minutiae of muscles twitching.

Stefan Kozalla’s music as DJ Koze is defined by an essence of over the top bohemia, like a snapshot from some Burning Man night rendered with palo santo ash. His new album, Music Can Hear Us, leans especially hard into this energy, steering away from Balearic microhouse and towards downtempo, trap, and tasteful Afro house. A mesmerizing climax arrives on the track “Tu Dime Cuando,” which features verdant Peruvian producer Sofia Kourtesis and Ada — the latter a staple of DJ Koze’s Pampa Records imprint. The song is deliciously sweet, effect-smeared vocal chops hovering over a bed of springy plucks and balmy piano chords. There’s a sun soaked, sleazy quality to all of DJ Koze’s music, as if it’s beckoning you into some hallucinated bacchanal. “Tu Dime Cuando” makes me envision a zone for respite at the center of a cartoonishly hedonistic festival in the tropics.

DJ Python (aka Brian Piñeyro) is one of the most omnipresent figures in dance music today. After years spent making his way from the New York City underground and through the global festival circuit, Piñeyro has put out his first EP with XL Recordings. i was put on this earth touches on many sides of the DJ Python formula: Reggaeton, downtempo, and grime are aided by guest features from Organ Tapes, Isabella Lovestory, Physical Therapy, and Jawnino. The whole thing is eclectic and varied, but my favorite of the five tracks is the closer, “Elio’s Lived In My House Forever.” The Physical Therapy collaboration is dreamy yet sharp, suited for daytime decompression and spacey mental voyages. “Elio’s Lived In My House Forever” taps into the melancholy that defined Piñeyro’s early work, with the deftness of a producer who has now toyed with countless sounds.

For a few years, it seemed as if New York City club mainstay Anthony Naples had given up on dance music. His 2021 album, Chameleon, explored a smoggy strain of post-punk inflected krautrock, while the 2023 record, orbs, toyed with patchouli-tinged glitch. Naples’ new single, “Scanners” — which is the title-track from his upcoming sixth full-length — leans back into the slippery propulsion he came up with. Holographic synth stabs remind me of the landmark 2019 Naples album Fog FM. The cut also toys with minimal in the vein of Loidis and Facta — artists Naples has platformed on the Incienso label he co-runs with his wife Jenny Slattery. Like Naples’ most rinsable tracks, “Scanners” manages to generate endless motion from a stark palette.

Every now and again, an artist with a relatively low profile begins to come up in many conversations I share with like minded electronic music heads. Over the last few months, Welsh Eurorack whiz Jorg Kuning has become this artist du jour. Many DJs I know are whispering about his sprightly, bone-dry club EP, Elvers Pass, which was issued by K-LONE and Facta’s excellent Wisdom Teeth label. The highlight comes on the track “Synthetic Squashies,” the title of which sums up the bouncy vibe of the EP at large. It’s built on a snippy vocal chop, outlined with filtered, fluorescent bleeps and a clicky groove. Though its timbres are delicate, there’s a humidity and boisterousness to “Synthetic Squashies” that makes me want to jump between trampolines made from lava lamp fluid.