Underworld
Karl Hyde's stream-of-consciousness vocals over Rick Smith's builds — 'Born Slippy' was only ever the doorway into a much stranger catalogue.
Miami's art-and-music sprawl across five Wynwood blocks — Underworld, Flying Lotus and Four Tet over a deep local B2B undercard.
III Points is the least classifiable festival on this list. It takes over Mana Wynwood — five Miami city blocks of warehouses and yards — for two October days, and books across techno, experimental rock, hip-hop, drone metal and Latin club without treating any of it as a novelty. Underworld, Flying Lotus and Four Tet headline; SUNN O))) and Bone Thugs-n-Harmony are also on the bill.
What makes it distinctive is the undercard, which is enormous and heavily local. Well over a hundred of the billings are b2b pairings drawn from Miami's own DJ community, which is why the lineup runs past 200 names. Day splits haven't been published.
Expect electronic, house, dance and techno across 218 acts.
October 16–17, 2026 — Friday and Saturday.
Mana Wynwood, a five-block venue in the heart of Miami's Wynwood district.
Underworld, Flying Lotus and Four Tet.
218 billings, though many are b2b pairings drawn from Miami's local DJ community.
Not yet — the festival has published one combined lineup.
Type a few artists you already love into the search at the top of this page and you'll get ranked matches from this lineup, with reasons.
Lollapalooza lineup →Hopscotch lineup →The Fest lineup →Rebellion lineup →Lost Lands lineup →Louder Than Life lineup →All Points East lineup →Aftershock lineup →End of the Road lineup →ARC lineup →Warped Tour Orlando lineup →Austin City Limits lineup →Reading & Leeds lineup →EDC Orlando lineup →Bourbon & Beyond lineup →Riot Fest lineup →Outside Lands lineup →Green Man lineup →HARD Summer lineup →Osheaga lineup →Bass Canyon lineup →Hulaween lineup →Honcho Campout lineup →Portola lineup →Furnace Fest lineup →Shaky Knees lineup →Sick New World Texas lineup →Hinterland lineup →All Things Go DMV lineup →Raleigh Wide Open lineup →Oceans Calling lineup →Darker Waves lineup →Bumbershoot lineup →Ohana lineup →Sea.Hear.Now lineup →Iron Blossom lineup →All Things Go NYC lineup →
Going to III Points 2026? Get tickets ↗
Karl Hyde's stream-of-consciousness vocals over Rick Smith's builds — 'Born Slippy' was only ever the doorway into a much stranger catalogue.
Brainfeeder's founder — jazz lineage, hip-hop drums, and electronics that keep dissolving into each other, with Coltrane family blood and a 3D live rig.
Kieran Hebden's glowing folk-tronic universe — patient builds that hit like revelation, two decades of textures that make dance music feel handmade.
Dev Hynes's velvety art-R&B — '80s soul textures, jazz chords, and quiet heartbreak from one of pop's most sought-after collaborators.
Melodic-rap architects — the first to make harmony singing and double-time flow one seamless thing, with 'Tha Crossroads' still landing like a hymn.
KNTXT founder and the most visible face of modern hard techno — relentless, acid-inflected, absolutely locked in, headlining the global boom she helped create.
Neuroscientist-turned-producer moving between orchestral ambient and genuinely propulsive dance floors — equally at home with Pharoah Sanders and a peak-time rave.
Chicago house pedigree carried onto fashion-world stages — a DJ who plays for dancers, not the camera, with Grammy-winning production credits to match.
Avant-R&B's velvet futurist — club pressure and whispered intimacy in one voice, every reappearance treated as an event.
Queen Bee — the blueprint a very large share of modern women in rap are still working from, hard-won Brooklyn royalty status intact.
Caribou's Dan Snaith in club mode — joyous, loop-drunk house edits that chase the exact moment a groove becomes euphoria.
Detroit's most distinctive voice, literally — a yelp deployed over production nobody else would touch, from grimy underground tapes to festival-scale experimentalism.
Quebec trio making impossibly smooth bedroom dream-pop — bass-forward, hushed, and quietly enormous online, a headphone act that scaled to festivals.
Megan James's high, clear voice over Corin Roddick's pitch-shifted, chime-heavy production — future-pop that invented a sound the 2010s ran with.
Robed drone metal played at physically overwhelming volume — less a concert than a weather event, fog machines running from doors.
Trip-hop's shadow king — the whispered menace of 'Maxinquaye' live, Bristol paranoia thickened by three decades.
Daft Punk-approved Aussie disco — immaculate grooves, live-band tightness, five-part harmonies over four-on-the-floor, played tight enough to pass a studio audit.
Michigan-born, Berlin-forged — a selector as known for his opinions as his exceptional record collection, and both run deep.

Balearic disco lifer whose sets run long, loose, and completely against the grain of modern festival programming — a cult figure worth rearranging your day for.
Breakcore-punk duo whose live shows are closer to a hardcore gig than a DJ set — stage dives at 200 BPM.
Digicore prodigy turned noise-pop auteur — abrasive and gorgeous at once, walls of distortion hiding devastating melody.
British tech-house producer with a knack for the rolling bassline that empties the bar and fills the floor — label-boss instincts tuned for peak time.
Dominican rapper whose raw, deliberately provocative dembow made her a genuine cultural flashpoint — underground Santo Domingo carried to global stages.
Italian duo whose acid-drenched, punishingly fast techno is performed live on hardware, not laptops — improvised 303 lines and kick drums that treat 150 BPM as a starting point.
Keinemusik co-founder whose polished, Afro-tinged melodic house helped turn the Berlin label into a global brand — warm, percussive, and engineered for golden-hour sets.

Snarling internet-era electroclash — bratty vocals over blown-out bass, reviving the genre's trashy Berlin glamour for a generation that missed it the first time.

Shane Lavers's project — smeared, sample-strewn pop that keeps resisting a clean shape, beloved by the corner of indie that prizes texture over tidiness.
New Zealand oddball making woozy, sensual guitar-pop that sounds slightly melted — whispered falsetto and bent notes beamed in from a stranger dimension.


Technicolor disco-house — relentless fun, zero pretension, hooks big enough to convert whoever wandered past the stage.




UK underground rap's internet-native riser — lo-fi menace and offhand melody built for the timeline, low-lit tracks that travel by repost.


Australian-born, London-based — psychedelic, live-leaning sets that resist an obvious genre label, texture-heavy techno with a crate-digger's curiosity.
UK bass with a dancehall bounce — the sound of a soundsystem set rather than a festival drop, 'Skanka' the breakout.

Berlin's masked 'farmcore' phenomenon — giddy barnyard-trance house played dead serious, 'My Barn My Rules' as manifesto.
Manchester producer who co-wrote the garage revival's biggest crossover single — 'B.O.T.A.' bounce with deep scene credentials.
Miami duo making raw, hardware-driven Latin club music with genuine local roots — dembow and techno melted together live.
The trio who effectively invented halftime — drum and bass slowed to a swaggering crawl, sound design that rewards headphones and necks alike.
Montreal producer whose chopped-vocal house helped define a whole strand of the 2010s — 'Another Girl' glow, still radiating.




Tokyo cult selector Yousuke Yukimatsu — genre-shredding DJ sets that went from viral clips to worldwide bookings, anything-goes technique with total joy.
Irish producer whose G-Town Records sound sits between rave nostalgia and modern hard house — Galway warehouse energy gone international.

Amsterdam's hard-trance revivalist — acid lines and 150 BPM joy, rave classicism played with total exuberance.




Genre-agnostic selector moving between breaks, house, and hip-hop in a single set — turntablist chops under the party instincts.
Brothers back-to-back — UK tech-house's cheekiest rising pair, trading grooves with sibling telepathy, four hands and one groove.
Andrea Tirone's Italo-disco project — glossy, bass-forward dance-pop with a distinctly Mediterranean streak, engineered for strutting.
Danish artist building weightless guitar-pop out of processed tones and near-whispered melody — uncanny-valley beauty rendered in high definition.
Disco Halal founder blending Middle Eastern melody into slow, hypnotic dance music — cosmic disco with a wanderer's ear.
UK garage revival heat — skippy drums and low-end pressure, two-step engineered for the new generation of dancefloors.

Australian house heater — half of the HYPERBEAM b2b with OMNOM, flip-happy edits with festival-scale bounce.

Solid Grooves regular with a lean, percussive take on tech-house — groove stripped to its most effective parts.


Mexican producer trading in slow, druggy cosmic disco with an outsized sense of drama — leather-jacket mystique at 105 BPM.
Israeli duo whose live sets bring guitars and post-punk grit to a dance stage — Tel Aviv cool with krautrock stamina.

German producer with a thirty-year catalogue and a taste for the deliberately odd — house and techno with an art-school wink.
Madrid's blissed-out bedroom-pop futurist — Spain's new wave in full flight, autotune used like watercolor, bedroom experiments gone continental.



Montreal's arch electroclash survivor — deadpan vocals, filthy synths, and a sense of humor most techno lacks, 'Sunglasses at Night' included.




Polish techno provocateur — fast, hard, and gleefully irreverent, rave intensity with an internet-native sense of humor.
NYC's most confrontational new band — spasmodic percussion-punk that levels rooms in twenty-minute bursts, and nothing else sounds like it.