by Lawrence

(Mule Electronic)

When Peter Kersten dozes off, people listen. Kersten is the German ambient-house producer who records as Lawrence, whose hypnotic 2002 self-titled debut is one of those records you can play anywhere, anytime, in most any situation: It's as right for a morning walk on the beach as it is to make your house seem haunted at 3:00 a.m. The title track of his new Jill EP pitter-pats along the same pathways, but more clearly and with less dreamy mystery. Luckily, "Jill Reprise" does the trick. It's more of a dub, or a remix, than a reprise, cutting the drums (but keeping the conga line) and letting the becalmed keyboards blur around the edges just right, a lesson the more propulsive "Hamtramck" benefits from. "Sunrise," unsurprisingly, is a bunch of synth swells.

by DJ Koze

(MP3)

Like Lawrence, DJ Koze (born Stefan Kozalla) is a singular '00s dance producer, though as his stellar new remix compilation Reincarnations demonstrates, his uniqueness comes from doing so many different things—not expertly, but with a kind of willy-nilly enthusiasm that transmits to the listener. Take this track, apparently a one-off that was leaked to a number of blogs the other week (I got it from Little White Earbuds). It's triphop: opiated keyboards, fussed-over breakbeat, hide-and-seek bass line. For nearly four minutes, you wonder where the surprise will kick in. Then at 3:53, the beat returns as before, but the keyboards are now reminiscing about half-remembered old Supertramp songs.

by Horsepower Productions

(Tempa 12-inch)

This fluctuating crew, an early UK garage outfit that helped pioneer dubstep, were originally a trio. Now they are a duo consisting of original member Benny Ill and newbie Jay King; they haven't released a record in five years, but both sides of this 12-inch sound like Horsepower spent that time storing up ideas and are now getting impatient about it. "Kingstep" lays a groggy wail of "murder dem!" (I think) over seething Jamaican rhythms, digi-lasers, wayward strings, and disembodied female moans; it's the dub equivalent of a sea chantey. "Damn It" is something else entirely, a boot-sized cocktail of Kingston horns and Echoplex, muttered Rasta talk, dusty-cowboy harmonica, taut funk-blues guitar, and effects pilfered equally from the lending libraries of Carl Stalling and Lee Perry that never stop fizzing. This is the kind of different-yet-complementary pairing that makes old guys like me nostalgic for the two-sided single.