The 10 Best Electronic Albums Of 2024
If there is a single word that encapsulates the broad state of electronic music right now, it is “gauzy.” Reflecting on a period marked by long nights in futuristic spaces, I recall taking in more sets indebted to Basic Channel than Orbital over the last 12 months. Sure, there were exceptions, with dubstep, jungle, and progressive house coming back into vogue. For the most part, though, it seems as if the style’s mutual consciousness agreed to cater to moody lounging in 2024. The best releases of the year are overarchingly cerebral and echoing, suited for hermetic subway journeys and bouts of introversion.
As is inevitably the case when assembling a conclusive roundup, it is nearly impossible to choose which albums make the cut. This latest electronic list was particularly challenging to trim, because I spent so much of the year diving headfirst into the genre’s outer realms, as a DJ whose day job requires sifting through unfamiliar music at a record store. I would be remiss not to shout out a number of highlights that I did not have the bandwidth to include up top: Solpara’s bashful full-length Melancholy Sabotage; the unrelenting Liebus EP Noise Protocol; Fergus Jones’ glum LP Ephemera; and upsammy’s naturalistic strange meridians all came close, and are beyond worthy of attention. Additionally, Floating Points, Caribou, and Four Tet each put out noteworthy records that showcase indietronica’s unlikely new home on the mainstage — I was grateful for the chance to cover all three within the context of a piece on the Four Tet And Friends festival here in New York City. On what this selection was winnowed down to, dubby clatters and formlessness reign supreme — an apprehensive score for an era in flux.
Here are the 10 strongest electronic records of 2024. Check out the list, and leave your own favorites in the comments.
Numa Gama’s A Spectral Turn unfurls with a gentle, vibrating lead and funky bass flourishes on opener “2k&Plateau.” It quickly sets the tone for an album that mimics a shimmering, pensive trip. The Brazilian artist’s January full-length for Beijing label bié Records dwells on themes of hauntology and post-capitalism. But the end result is unexpectedly inviting and misty, as if melded from warm pink putty. Incorporating broken downtempo grooves, balmy synths, and vague, manipulated vocals, A Spectral Turn harkens images of ripples disintegrating on sandy winter beaches.
Tom Ford’s roots lie in sleepless Bristol clubs, but his output as Peverelist had been fairly morose until recently. Swapping dank dubstep for shifty techno, the Pulse series for Ford’s cavernous Livity Sound label is uncharacteristically zippy. Both installments that arrived in 2024, the Pulse Phase and Pulse Echo EPs, were lively and fluorescent. Sharp leads jitter above tightly wound beats and rigid basslines. It finds the low end honcho dominating clearer timbres.
Darren J. Cunningham’s hazy formula as Actress has been firmly established from the jump. The London-based producer’s June full-length for Smalltown Supersound, Statik, retains all the components of the material that led up to it. The album paints a comparably dismal landscape from amorphous bloops, crunchy percussion, and hissy metropolitan ambience. Statik is especially dreary and nocturnal; each note leaves me imagining a sheet of rain plummeting in the orange glint of a streetlamp, and the rhythms evoke the shuffle of worn sneakers on soggy asphalt. Statik reinforces the ways in which Cunningham drew the blueprint for a wave of textured artists to follow.
Before they had any tracks to their name, CCL was widely considered a CDJ virtuoso. Their approach to DJing is almost algebraic, weaving bangers du jour and chunky oddities into seamless tapestries. 2024 revealed that the Berlin-based artist’s original productions are equally prodigious. They commenced this new chapter in July, on an EP with Ciel titled Tilda’s Goat Stare. CCL’s official November solo debut, Plot Twist, takes things to the next level. It pulls from progressive house, trance, and UKG, stirring them into an elven, burbling elixir. Issued by !K7 Records, these six cuts feature Vancouver staple D. Tiffany and a stocky remix from Ansia label boss Piezo. Plot Twist is a self-professed exercise in letting go that is still bafflingly meticulous.
Indiana native Jerrilynn Patton ascended to prominence in the Midwest footwork scene, and her Jlin project is an enduring fixture on Mike Paradinas’ sprightly Planet Mu label. In the time after her 2015 debut, Dark Energy, she has transcended the confines of the underground to become a Pulitzer Prize finalist. Her March full-length, Akoma, solidifies Patton’s status as a rigorous aural master, aided by features from walking legends Björk, Philip Glass, and Kronos Quartet. Coaxing her lauded guests into shockingly strenuous territory, the record centers on fluttery polyrhythmic drums and unflinching melodies. For as scholastic as the narrative surrounding Patton can be, Akoma ultimately excels due to gripping immediacy.
The first spin through Breathe… Godspeed left my brain swirling and ears ringing. On JP López (aka Verraco’s) May EP for Batu’s Timedance imprint, the Colombian producer and TraTraTrax co-founder doled out frenzied beats. The whole thing whirrs and contorts like an insect gliding on a blistering surface. Breathe… Godspeed clocks in at just four tracks, but each contains enough ideas to comprise two albums. On a whim, a Monster Energy bass drop could appear out of nowhere, give way to deconstructed trap, and then mutate into brisk dembow, all in the span of 45 seconds. It captures an inventive player in dance music leaning into skull smashing absurdity.
Brian Leeds rose in tandem with the outsider house boom in the 2010s, scattering wonky tracks among several personas. As Huerco S., he began toying with a haunting strain of laptop minimalism that helped return ambient to the conversation. Leeds then threw up his palms in frustration as he was lumped in with the vapidness of wellness culture. In the time since, he has flirted with everything from musique concrète to trap, all while managing the woozy label West Mineral Ltd. and touring heavily in the global festival circuit. One Day — Leeds’ August release for Anthony Naples and Jenny Slattery’s Incienso imprint — is his most gridlocked album to date. It arrives under his elusive Loidis alias, and summons whispers of 2000s microhouse a la Kompakt and Workshop. Taut chords and subby basslines coil and unwind atop snappy percussion, all in constant, imperceptible motion. Finished in a day using the rudimentary Digital Audio Workstation FL Studio, One Day is a testament to the power of slick sonics and sly rhythmic changes.
The most enveloping element in any club track I encountered this year was not the growl of a bassline or thump of a kick. Instead, it arrived in a flurry of piano glissandos on the stellar GiGi FM single “Gabriella.” Across seven minutes, a rapid fire jazz keyboard throws a tantrum over a forward-bound groove. It is easy to understand how the artist born Giulia Fournier-Mercadante would craft something so refined, yet unmoored: She grew up a skilled dancer, and became involved with intricate techno while residing in London. The rest of Movimiento sparked as a response to existence in Fournier-Mercadante’s current base of Berlin, and flaunts an appropriately insistent thrum. Speaker rattling sequences are offset by wiry treble. These five pirouetting DJ tools possess the delicacy of a Tchaikovsky ballet.
I have appreciated Bryan Müller’s work beneath the moniker Skee Mask since I discovered it in college. But it was not until 2024 that it really clicked for me. The skunky production Müller honed in the 2010s made him a muse for homebody synth tweakers, but it was a bit too bleak for me to latch onto at a younger age. On a handful of 2024 LPs for austere institution Ilian Tape (as well as the self-released odds and ends collections C and D), Munich-based Müller fused sinewy pads and pounding grooves. The buzziest of these efforts was Resort, which has managed to come up in countless discussions shared with kindred enthusiasts. The album is commanding, yet orange tinted, thanks to translucent melodies and steady rhythms. It stands in contrast to the March installment of Müller’s Ilian Skee series, ISS010, which is tailored for foggy debauchery. Müller already cast an inimitable silhouette over contemporary electronic music, but this banner year cements his place as one of the greats.
Records shaped by computerized innovation and academic precision often fall flat; imperfection and grit are usually what make art exciting. On his third solo full-length in 16 years, Searching, James Devane effectively marries his classroom jazz training and software programming abilities to deliver an instant classic. These 16 tracks were generated in Ableton and shredded to ribbons using a custom designed Max for Live device. The majority of the scraps were unenjoyable. However, the usable snippets that became Searching are bookish, floaty, and mesmerizing. Searching hovers between the legacies of 2000s microhouse and glitch, while also presenting a more refined counterpart to the youthful club, not club sound emanating from labels such as Motion Ward, co:clear, and 3XL. Since he emerged in 2008, Devane has wandered into and out of the shadows. While flightiness is key to his allure, I hope Searching is followed up soon; until then, Devane has gifted us many hypnotic layers to ponder.
