
The Top 100 DJs of 2026.
One hundred names. No poll, no payola. Just the house’s opinion, ranked.
One hundred DJs. One opinion, held in public. The house keeps this list the way other houses keep a cellar book: updated, argued over, and read aloud after dinner.
We are a photography house, so the question is fair: why rank DJs? Because the Social Season runs on rooms, and every room answers to whoever holds the record box. We spend the year in those rooms with cameras and opinions. The cameras get the walls. The opinions get this page.
How we ranked one hundred DJs
Three measures, applied without a spreadsheet. The room: what actually happens to a dancefloor when they take over. The records: what they make, sign, or rescue from obscurity. The range: whether the magic survives outside their home venue, their home genre, their home time zone. Longevity earns respect here; momentum earns position. The order is argued over until the argument stops being interesting, and then it is published.
What the list is not: a popularity contest, a booking chart, or a follower count with a byline. And no photographs of the DJs. We publish our own photography, not press shots, so one hundred entries stand on words alone. Consider it a discipline.
Nos. 1–10, The podium
Carl Cox
The happiest man in techno
Forty years deep and still the benchmark.
Born in Oldham, which pleases a Manchester house no end. He was there when British rave got its keys, carried Space Ibiza to its 2016 close, and has since rebuilt the headline set as a hybrid-live machine. The catchphrase is famous; the consistency is the real signature. Nobody in dance music is trusted by more rooms.
Black Coffee
Grace at scale
The most elegant hands in the game.
From Durban to a Grammy (Subconsciously, in 2022) without ever raising his voice. His Saturday residency at Hï Ibiza became the island’s most reliable pilgrimage. The restraint is the flex: space, patience, and drums that land like furniture being placed. South African house’s global standard-bearer, and nobody carries it lighter.
Peggy Gou
Seoul, via Berlin, via everywhere
The rare superstar who still DJs like a selector.
Gudu Records boss, fashion fixture, and the owner of 2023’s most inescapable record in “(It Goes Like) Nanana”. The fame is loud; the sets stay disciplined: Korean pop-culture swagger over proper record collecting. The walk-on is an event. The last hour is better.
Solomun
The closer
Give him the last hour and go home happy.
Bosnian-born, Hamburg-made, Diynamic’s founder, and the patron saint of the long goodbye. His +1 night at Pacha Ibiza reduced the format to its essence: one guest, then him, then sunrise. Even a video-game cameo, he plays himself in GTA, couldn’t dent the mystique. Melancholy has never moved this well.
Honey Dijon
House royalty, working
Chicago’s history with a couture finish.
Born in Chicago, finished in New York, at home everywhere. Her Classic Music Company records carry the lineage; her production credits on Beyoncé’s Renaissance carried it to the biggest stage there is. She plays house music like it matters, because it does, and she was raised on the proof.
Fred again..
The diarist
Turned the confessional into a headline set.
The Londoner’s Actual Life albums made small feelings arena-sized, and his 2022 Boiler Room became the decade’s most-rewatched DJ footage. With Skrillex and Four Tet he sold out Madison Square Garden on days of notice in 2023. The edits are homemade; the emotion is industrial-grade.
Charlotte de Witte
Ghent, in black
Techno’s most reliable velocity.
The KNTXT founder became the first techno act to close Tomorrowland’s main stage in 2022 and has kept the throttle open since. The brand is monochrome; the engineering is precise. She made hard techno a main-stage language without asking permission.
Jamie Jones
The landlord of groove
Tech house’s best-dressed institution.
Hot Creations, Hot Natured, and Paradise: the DC-10 party that gave tech house a wardrobe and a waiting list. The Welshman’s sets swing where others stomp. Fifteen years at the top of a genre he half-built, and the strike rate has not dipped.
Marco Carola
Naples, on time
The metronome the island sets its watch by.
Techno since the early nineties and the founder of Music On, the Ibiza institution that made repetition a luxury good. No theatrics, no speeches: just groove maintained at a standard most engineers would envy.
Keinemusik
The weather system
Golden hour, wherever they land.
&ME, Rampa and Adam Port turned a Berlin label into the world’s most in-demand sunset. The afro-house warmth travels (beach, rooftop, pyramid, wherever), and the three-hands format means the level never drops. The most copied sound of the decade so far; still done best by the originals.
Nos. 11–40, The main room
Dixon
Taste as authority
The editor-in-chief of melodic house.
Innervisions co-founder; four consecutive years voted number one in Resident Advisor’s poll. He plays like he’s fact-checking the genre.
The Martinez Brothers
Joy, in stereo
New York swing, exported properly.
Bronx brothers raised on house music by their father, now running Cuttin’ Headz. The happiest four hands in the booth.
Four Tet
The quiet polymath
Twenty-five years of never playing the obvious record.
Kieran Hebden moves between festival headline sets and back-room experiments without changing expression. The Madison Square Garden trio with Fred again.. and Skrillex was the loud exception.
Anyma
The image-maker
Melodic techno’s cinema wing.
Half of Tale Of Us; first electronic act to headline Sphere in Las Vegas. The spectacle is enormous and the ambition unembarrassed.
John Summit
The work rate
From spreadsheets to Madison Square Garden.
The Chicago-raised ex-accountant built Off The Grid and Experts Only, then headlined the Garden in 2024. Relentless, and honest about it.
Dom Dolla
Hooks that hold
Australia’s tidiest export since flat whites.
Grammy-nominated, arena-sized, and still writing house records with actual jokes in them. “Saving Up” did the heavy lifting; the sets finish the job.
Fisher
The grin
Mayhem with a production budget.
The Australian ex-surfer behind “Losing It”: Grammy-nominated, crowd-tested, permanently sold out. Nobody enjoys their own set more, and it’s contagious.
Michael Bibi
London’s heartbeat
The comeback of recent memory.
Solid Grooves co-founder; diagnosed with cancer in 2023, cancer-free and back for a sold-out Finsbury Park by June 2024. The city would carry him home from any gig now.
Amelie Lens
The afterburner
Acceleration without panic.
Antwerp’s Exhale boss plays techno the way sprinters breathe: controlled, then suddenly not. Festival stages obey.
Adam Beyer
Drumcode itself
Swedish steel, quarter-century warranty.
The Stockholm veteran’s label built modern techno’s supply chain. The sets remain immaculate; the empire runs on time.
Seth Troxler
The wit
Dance music’s best after-dinner speaker, mid-set.
Michigan-raised, globally amused. House and techno with actual personality, plus side quests into food that are better than they need to be.
The Blessed Madonna
The believer
Plays like church is optional but attendance is full.
Kentucky-born Marea Stamper went from rave flyers to “Marea (We’ve Lost Dancing)” with Fred again.., lockdown’s unofficial anthem, and a debut album, Godspeed, in 2024.
Sven Väth
Papa
More Ibiza summers than most hotels.
Frankfurt’s Cocoon founder still travels with record bags and still outlasts men half his age. A one-man argument for vinyl.
Loco Dice
Düsseldorf’s export
Hip-hop bones, techno tailoring.
The Desolat boss brought street-level swagger to minimal’s austerity and never gave it back.
Ricardo Villalobos
The abstraction
Minimal’s most maximal character.
Chilean-born, German-raised, and capable of stretching a groove past all reasonable limits until it becomes the point. Marathon sets as modern folklore.
Adriatique
Two Adrians
Melodic, not soft.
Both genuinely named Adrian, both Swiss, both incapable of an untidy transition. The Siamese label carries the same watchmaker’s finish.
Bedouin
The caravan
Organic house with an actual passport.
The Brooklyn-formed duo behind Saga, Mykonos’s most devoted ritual. Long sets, longer horizons.
Carlita
The cellist
Musicianship you can hear at 124 BPM.
Classically trained in Turkey before the booth found her. Melody handled like it costs something, because to her, it did.
Mochakk
Fast hands
Showmanship the internet couldn’t exaggerate.
The Brazilian’s open-air sets travelled every feed for a reason: card-sharp technique, open face, proper records.
Floating Points
The scientist
A PhD in making rooms feel things.
Manchester-born Sam Shepherd (neuroscience doctorate, Promises with Pharoah Sanders and the LSO), and still one of the most surgical selectors alive. The house claims him with hometown pride.
Bicep
Belfast’s arc
“Glue” still holds everything together.
The duo turned melancholy rave memory into festival main stages. The DJ sets carry the same ache at higher speed.
Overmono
The brothers
UK bass, precision-built.
Tom and Ed Russell made Good Lies (2023) the sound of British dancefloors growing up without calming down.
Jayda G
The environmentalist
Disco joy with a master’s degree.
Grammy-nominated for “Both Of Us”; holds a master’s in environmental toxicology. Plays like the good news arrived early.
TSHA
The finisher
Polish without gloss.
Ninja Tune signee with a fabric mix to her name and a knack for house records that feel hand-sewn.
Folamour
Lyon’s optimist
Disco as a public service.
The Frenchman plays joy at festival scale and means every bar of it.
Barry Can’t Swim
The ease
Warmth that scales.
Edinburgh’s Joshua Mainnie went from producers’ favourite to everyone’s favourite on the back of When Will We Land? (2023).
Chris Lake
The craftsman
Tech house without the beige.
The Briton behind Black Book Records builds records like furniture: functional, finished, quietly expensive.
Vintage Culture
Brazil’s main stage
Stadium house with actual blood pressure.
Lukas Ruiz carried Brazilian dance music to global festival bills and kept the emotion turned up.
Uncle Waffles
The ambassador
Amapiano’s most convincing argument.
Eswatini-born, Coachella-approved as of 2024. The tempo is patient; the charisma is not.
Kaytranada
The bounce
Nobody else’s drums sit like that.
Haitian-Canadian, Grammy-winning, Bubba took Best Dance/Electronic Album in 2021, and the owner of a swing signature you can identify in one bar.
The season, on paper.
The rooms these hundred play are the rooms we photograph. Museum-grade prints of the season’s places (hand-framed, made to order) hang in the house’s Most Wanted.
See the Most Wanted →Nos. 41–100, The deep bench
Eric Prydz
The spectacle engineer
HOLO raised the bar and hid it in the lasers.
The Swede’s “Opus” remains dance music’s best slow reveal.
Richie Hawtin
The minimalist
Plastikman still casts the longest shadow.
Detroit-schooled, endlessly systematised, forever refining.
Jeff Mills
The Wizard
Detroit techno’s furthest horizon.
From Axis Records to orchestras, still playing the future he promised.
Sasha
The progressive
The blueprint for the long build.
The Welshman’s Last Night On Earth keeps the art of patience in print.
John Digweed
The constant
Transitions, in every sense.
Bedrock’s boss has out-lasted every trend he declined to follow.
Pete Tong
The institution
The voice British dance music grew up inside.
On BBC Radio 1 since 1991; the Essential brand is his monument.
Annie Mac
The host
Left the day job, kept the dancefloor.
The Dubliner departed Radio 1 in 2021; her Before Midnight parties end when sensible people sleep.
Gilles Peterson
The librarian
Owns more music than most countries.
Brownswood, Worldwide, and a lifetime of joining the dots.
Norman Jay MBE
Good Times itself
Carnival’s best-loved sound system, in human form.
The MBE is on the record; the warmth is in the room.
DJ Harvey
The tide-master
Disco stretched to its most persuasive.
His Mercury Rising residency at Pikes remains an Ibiza rite.
Kerri Chandler
Deep house’s sitting monarch
The kick drum with a soul.
New Jersey-raised; Spaces and Places (2022) toured the world’s booths on vinyl-thick warmth.
Louie Vega
Masters At Work
New York house, first edition.
With Kenny Dope he wrote the genre’s reference library; Nuyorican Soul made it orchestral.
David Morales
Def Mix royalty
The remix as main event.
A Grammy-winning remixer who still plays like the record matters more than the fee.
Danny Tenaglia
The marathon man
Queens’ greatest endurance artist.
The sets run long because the stories do.
Todd Terry
The blueprint
Sampled the future into existence.
His rework of Everything But The Girl’s “Missing” never left the floor.
Roger Sanchez
The S-Man
“Another Chance” still gets one, nightly.
The 2001 UK number one remains house music’s best-dressed heartbreak.
Armand Van Helden
The wildcard
Filter house’s loudest laugh.
From “U Don’t Know Me” to Duck Sauce, never once po-faced.
MK
The rework king
That Nightcrawlers remix pays rent forever.
Detroit-born Marc Kinchen made the dub mix a career.
Green Velvet
The surrealist
“Percolator” remains a legal high.
Chicago’s Curtis Jones, twice over, Cajmere included.
Claude VonStroke
Dirtybird’s founder
Bass with a sense of humour.
Built a label empire out of San Francisco barbecues.
Derrick Carter
Chicago’s technician
Swing you can set your watch to.
One of the city’s great second-generation stylists.
Mark Farina
Mushroom Jazz
House music’s mellowest institution.
Chicago-born, San Francisco-formed, forever downtempo-adjacent.
Moodymann
Detroit’s auteur
Plays like the city taught him personally.
KDJ and Mahogani Music keep the mystery profitable.
Theo Parrish
Sound Signature
Texture over tempo, every time.
Chicago-raised, Detroit-sworn, entirely his own genre.
Hot Since 82
Yorkshire’s export
Knee Deep In Sound, head above water.
Daley Padley made melodic tech house a reliable pleasure.
Patrick Topping
Newcastle’s energy
Trick by name, honest by nature.
Big-room house with a Geordie grin.
Sonny Fodera
The smooth operator
Adelaide-born, dancefloor-finished.
Solotoko’s boss writes house music that behaves beautifully.
CamelPhat
Liverpool’s chart-crashers
“Cola” went everywhere and came back cooler.
Grammy-nominated, stadium-tested.
Duke Dumont
The hit-maker
“Need U (100%)” aged like a classic because it is one.
British house with proper pop bones.
Gorgon City
North London pressure
Bass-weight with a passport.
The duo’s club records travel better than most airlines.
Purple Disco Machine
Dresden’s groove
Disco revivalism with a Grammy on the shelf.
The remix trophy is deserved; the basslines are the reason.
Skream
The convert
From dubstep pioneer to disco believer.
Croydon’s restless one keeps choosing the interesting door.
Eliza Rose
The voice
“B.O.T.A.”, a UK number one from the record shop counter.
East London’s own, 2022’s best surprise.
Interplanetary Criminal
Manchester’s garage engine
The other half of “B.O.T.A.”, the quieter half of its glory.
UKG revival, done properly, from our own city.
Ewan McVicar
Ayrshire’s anthem-writer
“Tell Me Something Good”: Scotland already did.
Singalong house with terrace-chant DNA.
Hannah Laing
Dundee’s driver
From dental nurse to hard-house prescription.
The career change Scotland fully endorsed.
Denis Sulta
Glasgow’s showman
Sulta Selects, crowds concur.
Hector Barbour plays euphoria with a straight face, briefly.
Mall Grab
The accelerator
Lo-fi beginnings, high-velocity present.
Jordon Alexander’s Looking For Trouble label says the quiet part loud.
HAAi
The ascender
Baby, We’re Ascending was a statement of fact.
Australian-born, London-based, texture-first.
Joy Orbison
The understatement
“Hyph Mngo” changed the weather; he never mentions it.
UK club music’s most quietly influential hand.
DJ Seinfeld
The romantic
Lo-fi house grew up; so did he.
The Swede’s Mirrors traded irony for feeling and won.
salute
The optimist
Rave euphoria with the cynicism removed.
Vienna-born, Britain-based, reliably uplifting.
Marlon Hoffstadt
The revivalist
Gave trance back its sense of humour.
Berlin’s smiles-per-minute record holder.
Sara Landry
The hammer
Hard techno with theological conviction.
The American’s HEKATE label does exactly what it threatens.
Indira Paganotto
The hybrid
Psytrance and techno, formally introduced.
Spain’s ARTCORE boss made the crossover respectable.
Deborah de Luca
Naples, solamente
Self-made and unbothered.
Her Solamente label is the clue: she did it alone.
Anfisa Letyago
Siberia via Naples
Techno with an Italian finish.
N:S:DA’s founder plays precision with warmth.
Boris Brejcha
High-tech minimal
The mask stays on; the standard stays up.
His own genre label, taken literally by thousands.
ARTBAT
Kyiv’s flag-bearers
Melodic techno with actual stakes.
The Ukrainian duo carried their city onto every main stage that mattered.
Mathame
The brothers celestial
Melodrama, engineered to spec.
Italian siblings with a taste for the enormous.
Mind Against
The atmosphere
Tension held like a long exposure.
Italian brothers who understand restraint is a special effect.
Innellea
The belonging
Munich’s melodic architect.
The 2024 debut album confirmed what the sets implied.
Yotto
Finland’s steady hand
Anjunadeep’s most dependable weather.
Odd One Out is the label; consistency is the brand.
Ben Böhmer
The balloonist
Played above Cappadocia; still hasn’t come down.
The Cercle set made him melodic house’s postcard.
Lane 8
The phone-free believer
This Never Happened: but everyone remembers it.
Daniel Goldstein’s no-cameras policy built better rooms.
Kölsch
Kompakt’s chronicler
1977, 1983, 1989: autobiography at 122 BPM.
The Dane files memory under melody.
Major League DJz
Amapiano’s twins
The Balcony Mix conquered from a balcony.
Soweto’s brothers took the sound global and kept the swagger local.
Jamie xx
The colourist
In Waves (2024): club music you can frame.
The xx’s quiet third turned dancefloor memory into headline art.
Chloé Caillet
The multi-instrumentalist
Musicality first; the party follows.
French-American, Ibiza-approved, properly schooled.
Gerd Janson
Running Back’s librarian
The selector’s selector, in a hundred words or fewer.
The German A&R’d half of modern house taste and never raised his voice.
The fine print
Refreshed through the year; the date stamp above is honest. Facts are checked against the public record. The order is opinion, signed by the house, and no placement on it is for sale. Corrections gladly taken through the contact page.
Companion volumes: the seasonal cut, Top DJs for Summer 2026, Listed, and the genre deep-dive, the Best House DJs of 2026. We sell photographs, not line-ups: for bookings, find each artist’s agency. For the wall, stay right here.
i.Where it lives,destinations.
Mykonos
Windmills, beach clubs, and lost afternoons.
Saint-Tropez
A fishing village that learned the flashbulb.
Porto Cervo
Costa Smeralda, alphabetised by yacht.
Formentera
Ibiza’s quieter accomplice.
Capri
A small island with a large opinion.
iii.The seasons,in conversation.
Questions, asked of the editors.
By editorial judgement, not a public vote. The house weighs the room, the records and the range across recent seasons. No submissions are taken and no placement can be bought.
No. DJ Mag’s Top 100 DJs is a public vote run by that magazine. This index is the independent, in-house opinion of The Good Season, with no affiliation to any poll or trade title.
Through the year. The refresh date at the top of the page is the honest one; ranks move when the season gives us a reason.
Not through us. The Good Season is a photography house: we sell hand-framed prints, not line-ups. Booking enquiries belong with each artist’s agency.
House rule: we publish our own photography, not press shots. One hundred entries stand on words until we have shot the rooms ourselves.
Because one hundred is a fence, and every fence leaves someone interesting on the other side. The list is opinion: disagreement is welcome and occasionally persuasive.
The chapter, on paper. hand-framed.
See the Most Wanted →A photograph is a memory you can hang. A short list off the wall, closest in spirit to Top 100 DJs of 2026: museum-grade pigment prints, hand-finished in oak.
How an index is made.
- i.
The Long List
Each index begins with a brief and a longlist three times the published length. Submissions, scouts, and members.
- ii.
The Visit
Nothing makes the index without a visit, a verified guest, or a documented reservation in the last twelve months.
- iii.
The House
Editors weigh atmosphere, value, and the quality of the room. Stars and rosettes are noted but rarely decisive.
- iv.
The Cull
Entries that have softened, scaled, or stopped answering the phone are removed. We re-rank, we don't pad.
“We don’t rank the largest. We rank the rooms we’d actually return to, the houses we’d happily lend, and the addresses we’d quietly give a friend. The Indexes are kept short on purpose.”
For the record: citation and HTML embed for anyone quoting Index No. 08 in print or online.
The Good Season. (August 2026). Index No. 08: Top 100 DJs of 2026. The House Indexes, Vol. IV (IX-OT-26). https://thegoodseason.co.uk/season/indexes/top-100-djs-of-2026
<blockquote cite="https://thegoodseason.co.uk/season/indexes/top-100-djs-of-2026" data-tgs-index="IX-OT-26" style="border-left:3px solid #1E3A37;padding:12px 16px;margin:0;font-family:Helvetica,Arial,sans-serif;"> <a href="https://thegoodseason.co.uk/season/indexes/top-100-djs-of-2026" style="color:#1D1D1B;text-decoration:none;font-weight:600;">Top 100 DJs of 2026</a> <span style="display:block;font-size:12px;color:#7E7A73;margin-top:4px;">Index No. 08 · The House Indexes · <a href="https://thegoodseason.co.uk" style="color:#7E7A73;">The Good Season</a></span> </blockquote>




