Time was, producers could keep secrets. Samples and drum kits were subjects of intense speculation, while draconian copyright laws pushed crate-diggers deep into obscure backlists. Equipment was expensive and quickly outdated; studio time cost $200 an hour. But Kaytranada arrived in the era of demystified production, with advanced engineering tools and infinite audio libraries mere clicks away. In developing his signature sound, he focused less on discrete elements—his peers could replicate those anyway—than their intricate arrangement. On his 2016 breakthrough, 99.9%, the tempos, syncopation, and layering techniques were Kaytranada’s own, even when the instrumentals and melodies came from elsewhere.

By now, you know a Kaytranada beat when you hear one: The drums are foregrounded with a papery rasp, loud but rarely abrasive. His is such a specific trademark that he risked reaching an artificial ceiling if each record was just an iteration of a theme. 2023’s Kaytraminé preempted any stagnation, pairing Kaytranada’s kinetic drum patterns with Aminė’s chatty rhymes, keeping the temperature low while indulging a shared nervousness. On Timeless, Kaytranada builds on the fusion of 99.9% and 2019’s Bubba, spotlighting over a dozen vocalists on a suite of airy, upbeat collaborations.

True to form, Timeless is structured and sequenced like a DJ set as finely chopped instrumentals cross-fade into the next. The jazzier numbers, like “Video” and “Stepped On,” have a mathematical precision reminiscent of Kaytranada’s earlier work with Robert Glasper. And while the songs themselves lack big dynamic trajectories, the tracklist orbits around “Drip Sweat,” a climactic fireworks display featuring Channel Tres. The simplistic melody recalls early-’90s claustrophobia, augmented by Kaytranada’s stuttering rhythm breaks. Channel Tres leans into his role as a glowering emcee, directing dancefloor traffic between muttered verses.

Timeless is a dance record, but it can be easily adapted for kicking back at home. The busy drum patterns are offset by soft chords and engineering—the whispery snares land like an air conditioner’s muffled rattle. Kaytranada’s touch is also accentuated by a corps of fluttery-voiced R&B stars: Tinashe and Ravyn Lenae are flanked by Canadian counterparts Rochelle Jordan and Charlotte Day Wilson, grounding the electronica with more classic phrasing. On “Still,” Kaytranada’s heavy kicks propel Wilson’s wistful ballad; the rimshots scattered throughout “Hold On” contrast Dawn Richard’s smooth vocals with spiky edges. The intersection recalls a late-’00s moment when hip-hop producers like Dela and DJ Jazzy Jeff were huffing neo-soul’s last fumes, dousing their rustling MPC drums with turntable cuts—a short interim bookended by more decisive movements, condensing techniques drawn from disparate, bygone eras.

And that’s what makes a good DJ set—there’s a little something for everybody. On Timeless, Afrobeat rhythms and funk licks are dressed in R&B elegance; Childish Gambino and PinkPantheress meet the lively tempos with alacrity. If anything, the parade of blends and collaborations dulls the record’s highlights. A winking and mischievous Anderson .Paak supplies the album’s most charismatic performance on “Do 2 Me.” Don Toliver echoes .Paak’s vocal register on “Feel a Way,” yet it’s missing the sly intimacy, bogging down the set’s breezy opening passage.

An angsty Thundercat duet, “Wasted Words,” is limited to 90 seconds and buried on a bonus disc. Over Kaytranada’s hypnotic shuffle, Thundercat scales into falsetto, lambasting his neighbors (“You need to take that hat off/’Cause your whole ‘fit is trash”) for innocuous offenses. It’s a bit out-of-place on Timeless, yet the moody chords and harmonies are tantalizing in context, exposing a tiny hole in the record’s block-party itinerary. But if Timeless feels slighter than its predecessors, it’s no less assured, its purpose no less profound: to get you moving, even in quiet moments.