Nights out are a culmination of so many stimuli: pre-party rituals, journeys through the club and echoes of nightlife that linger into the next day. Manchester producer and DJ Anz brings these experiences into the heart of her work. “I always listen to garage before I go out,” she says in a Mancunian bar, eyeing the entertaining mix of people leaving offices late or getting on the lash early to mark the end of another week. “I want to hear a drum workout at peak time. When they’re about to kick us out the club, I want something big, hands-in-the-air, like: oh my God, where are we going after?” This narrative arc is the inspiration for her new EP All Hours. Bookended by a bright piano intro signifying the waking morning, and a dreamlike synth outro designed to sooth you into sleep as the sun comes up and strangers have passed out on your sofa, each track corresponds to a time of day so listeners can “choose their own adventure” through 24 hours. Lead single You Could Be is a bubbly, sunburst number with vocals from London singer George Riley, meant to reflect an optimistic afternoon feeling. Anz’s music often features vocal snips and samples, she considers them instruments that make the track feel human, but she wanted to find a proper singer for You Could Be, which meant a five-year search before she connected with Riley over Instagram. Other tracks include a swinging garage cut meant for the evening, an electro/drum track for the dancefloor and a heady, proto-breakbeat and jungle tune for those early hours, lights-on moments. Each track contains a little sonic element of the track before it as well as the one after it; Anz not only connects parts of the day, but shows how dance music history is sewn together too. It’s masterly stuff, demonstrating the 29-year-old’s far-reaching knowledge. “As I was building the record, I realised it could be about who I am as a producer, what’s gone into me to create the output,” she says. The record channels various UK electronic styles – rave, breaks, garage – and black music more generally, influenced by the vitality of The New Dance Show, a Soul Train-style dance music TV show that aired in Detroit in the late 80s and early 90s. Today’s dance scenes are rooted in black creativity – a fact often underplayed, now being reclaimed. “It’s music for all hours, and music that’s all ours too – all ravers, but also, for black people. I don’t just mean one set of people, I mean all of us.” Before this release, Anz’s discography consisted of a few club-ready 12” singles, colourful and propulsive, unconstrained by genre: “I maintain this stuff should be fun. I think discourse merchants get caught up in being purist about genre. Is that fun? No!” The same vision is present in her DJing. “There’s a specific kind of fun that comes with mixing up genres,” she continues. “Music deserves respect, but it doesn’t mean that it needs to be this chore, this fight where we’re warring over the semantics of it rather than appreciating it. This is black electronic music and it doesn’t have to be serious, it can be joyous.” Residencies for BBC Radio 1 and NTS and her own recently started label OTMI aside, she’s renowned for her annual mixes of her own productions: forthcoming singles, sketches and exclusive tracks blended together into the most potent potion of tomorrow’s new sounds. “I hadn’t really seen other people doing it, and I thought: ‘Am I being extra?’ But this feels like a special thing that I can do … It reminds me of the excitement and wonder I felt when first trying to make music.” All these efforts have built up into a sudden surge in profile. “The strangest thing was coming back after the pandemic and stepping out in front of a crowd – suddenly it’s not a 200-capacity basement any more, it’s thousands of people staring at you.” Now planning or performing several sets over a weekend while trying to keep her material constantly fresh, she’s busy adjusting to the new balance. Taking inspiration from the EP concept, Anz considers her dream day: “Every perfect day starts with a lie-in, no alarms, just sunlight. No one texting, calling or emailing me. Garage in the evening. A party with me and my friends playing, no pressure on anyone. A good afters, and the next day in the park. It’s like when I went to uni and first realised I wouldn’t get in trouble if I didn’t go in, and literally watched Ferris Bueller’s Day Off instead.” Ferris would be proud, but with the packed new schedule, her perfect day might prove elusive.