Features
Kozlow: “A good dancefloor is a good dancefloor, no matter where it is”
We caught up with Kozlow and discussed how ANTHR FCKNG PARTY evolved from a basement party into a label, the curatorial thinking behind AFP releases and what the current New York club sound means to him
Kozlow has gradually developed ANTHR FCKNG PARTY from a basement-led New York party into a broader platform that now connects events, releases and a growing network of DJs and producers. What began as a physical nightlife experience built around trust, risk-taking and dancefloor energy has recently expanded into recorded form with the launch of the AFP label and its first compilation, “Pleasure Pack Vol. 1”. Rooted in the city’s club environment, the project aims to capture a collective moment within New York’s DJ community while maintaining a balance between club functionality and an underground sensibility.
In our conversation, Kozlow reflects on the thinking behind the label, the role of dancefloor-tested tracks in shaping his productions, and the importance of building a party-led ecosystem where releases and events reinforce one another. He also touches on how his background across classical training, studio work and club spaces informs his approach as both a producer and curator. The discussion further looks at the collaborative spirit behind the compilation and a recent run of releases, including “No Sleep” with CHASKE, as AFP continues to develop its presence within the New York scene throughout 2026.
ANTHR FCKNG PARTY has existed as a physical, sweat-on-the-walls experience long before it became a label. What made now the right moment to document that energy in recorded form rather than letting it live only on the dancefloor?
Hey hey! Thanks for having me :)
I don’t really believe there’s a perfect moment to break out of a shell—you just grow when you’re ready to grow. I try every day to be a slightly better version of myself than the day before, and AFP has followed that same path.
Throwing a great party isn’t that complicated: you need a vision, you need to take risks, and you need to execute. The label came from two places. One, it lets me release music on my own timeline without being held to someone else’s schedule. And two, it gives me a platform to give back—to showcase DJs and producers I genuinely believe in.
Honestly, I wish I’d started sooner. Becoming a label head just feels like the next iteration of shedding old identities and stepping into new ones.
The very first compilation on the label, Pleasure Pack Vol. 1, feels deliberately communal. What do you think a crew-led first compilation communicates that a solo release wouldn’t?
It says: this is what we’re building in New York right now. These are the DJs, these are the producers, and this is the sound.
New York is the great melting pot. I love discovering niche sounds from obscure corners of the world, and this compilation felt like a chance to broadcast a return signal—like, hey, we see what you’re doing, and here’s our response. It’s less about any one person and more about capturing a moment, collectively.
You’ve described the tracks as “pressure-tested” in real rooms. How does music behave differently once it’s been shaped by actual dancefloor reaction rather than studio logic?
As I’ve grown as a DJ, I’ve gotten much better at visualizing how a track will actually feel on a dancefloor while I am producing. I then test everything on myself—if it doesn’t make us move, I’m not releasing it.
I’ve spent a lot of time in very different dancefloor contexts, and bringing that experience into the studio changes everything. A big challenge for me is figuring out how to translate string recordings and more musical ideas into something that actually works in a club. I’ve got a whole folder of demos that are compelling pieces of electronic art—but they’re not weapons.
The fun, and the frustration, is sitting down and solving that problem.
The artists featured are all working DJs embedded in NYC nightlife. What does this compilation say about the current sound of the city, and what does it push back against?
Honestly, that’s not really for me to decide—it’s for listeners and DJs to interpret. I’m just trying to present what we’re doing here right now. Maybe we’re leading, maybe we’re following, maybe it’s just our take on what excites us at this moment.
What I do feel strongly about is the opportunity to collectively take risks and push boundaries. Curating this compilation—and refining my own productions alongside it—helped clarify where I want this sound to go.
It’s always a balance: music that can be received broadly, that works in clubs, but still feels underground enough that we actually want to play it ourselves. Maybe people say it’s too safe, maybe they don’t—but until it’s out in the world, you never really know.
What I can say is that since releasing Pleasure Pack, the DMs have been flooded with incredible demos. A lot of that music is already lined up for release in the coming months. Each release feels like another chance to reinvent ourselves and show what the larger NYC crew is about. And soon, we’ll be throwing AFP release parties featuring artists from all over the world.
AFP started as a party brand but now operates as an ecosystem: events, residencies, releases. Do you see this as a response to how fragmented club culture has become post-pandemic?
That’s probably above my pay grade. I try to focus on the trees, not the forest.
For me, AFP is a party first—always has been. The label came second. Now that they’ve fused, it feels like a party label. If every party has a real reason to exist—celebrating a new release, a new artist—that feels meaningful. If we can keep making each one special, that’s the goal.
You move fluently between classical training, studio session work and club spaces. How has that hybrid background shaped your instincts as both a producer and a curator?
You have to be relentless and willing to wear any hat these days. I wasn’t a musician until I started playing violin. I wasn’t a producer until I started producing. I wasn’t a promoter until I started throwing parties.
I recently started cutting my own vocals, too—why not? Life’s short. The worst thing that happens is you fail, learn something, and get back up again. That mindset shapes everything I do, creatively and curatorial-wise.
I think I was raised this way, switching between multiple disciplines and interests - but I believe that makes for a compelling person - someone who can sing the words to a musical but knows and cares what kind of airplane they are flying on.
Playing violin alongside Carl Cox at Burning Man is worlds away from a New York basement at 3am. What have those extremes taught you about scale, intimacy and control in performance?
They’re closer than you’d think. A good dancefloor is a good dancefloor, no matter where it is.
The bigger contrast for me is corporate or private events, where people are on their best behavior. I’ve learned that I’m a terrible actor—I can’t hide how I feel. When I’m having the time of my life, that energy carries through. When I’m not, I still try my best to convey something honest. That awareness has become really important to me as a performer so the focus is usually about impressing myself. Because I often forget that people who aren’t familiar with me or the violin just enjoy the sound - whereas I’m wondering if I can play octaves with a cool bowing over this one break or something technical like that.
AFP has now reached over 10,000 attendees in a year. How do you protect intimacy and trust as a party grows without flattening its character?
The ultimate goal is no announced lineups—pure brand trust. That’s incredibly hard when you’re small. Asking people to show up without knowing who’s playing requires a lot of belief.
We’re getting closer. It comes down to effort: staying involved in decisions, working with people who genuinely care, and trusting that the passion translates. If we show up with intention, people feel it.
Many labels begin online and try to engineer community later. AFP seems to reverse that logic. Do you think labels built from real-world scenes have a longer shelf life?
I hope so. I’d love to do this for as long as I possibly can. The dream is a crossover moment where the parties and releases build real momentum and we can take this thing around the world.
There’s so much room to do exciting things! It takes effort and a bit of luck—and we’ve got plenty of the first. Fingers crossed on the second.
Following your solo production “Bark” within Pleasure Pack Vol. 1, you’ve released “Drive to Milan” and are about to drop “No Sleep” with CHASKE. Is this run of releases part of a broader narrative you’re consciously building for 2026?
Definitely. “Bark” sat on my laptop for almost two and a half years before the right new idea finally fused with it. That’s cool—but I have no interest in working like that anymore. I’m optimistic that I’ve hit that point where I can recycle old concepts and finish them and that my new concepts I can approach with more technical precision where I can eliminate the “stuck” period.
Now there’s momentum and self-imposed deadlines. “No Sleep” came out of two sessions with CHASKE in January, and it’s coming out in February. If it’s done and we believe in it, we’re releasing it. No waiting around.
Looking ahead to 2026, do you see AFP’s future leaning more towards documentation of a scene, or actively shaping what New York dance music becomes next?
I hope for the latter—that’s the real dream. I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about what that should sound like, and you’ll hear it in the upcoming releases. No more thinking! Stay tuned.
What’s next for Kozlow and the wider AFP world this year?
I’m fortunate to have a run of private events that keep the lights on and give me more time in the studio. That balance lets me finish music, handle the admin that comes with releasing it, and still focus on making each party special.
The next AFP is shaping up for March 27th—so keep an eye out, and an ear open.
See you on the dancefloor :)
Cheers.
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Explore some of Kozlow’s key tracks below.
