Along with “When I Get Back From New York,” there’s nothing that sticks – Lopatin is known for eschewing drum machines in favor of letting rhythm reveal itself in other ways, but most of Pessimistic Romanian philosopher Emil Cioran once said: “I’ve invented nothing; I’ve simply been the secretary of my sensations.” It’s telling that Cioran — a nihilist confounded by simple beauty — would be a figure of fascination (and something of a kindred spirit) for Daniel Lopatin. It’s the aural equivalent of a computer’s 3D rendering of a middle finger to anyone who lets haughtiness obscure understanding. He elevates sounds otherwise considered cheesy by putting them in a formal philosophical context. Andro 02. Lopatin may be mining the sounds of the past (or the past’s ideas about what the future would be like), but there’s plenty of distance and disquietude, too. It congratulated Berry on the fact that the rollicking guitar riff on “Johnny B. Goode” was now hurtling through space via NASA’s Voyager Golden Record project, as an example of the very human sound of rock ‘n’ roll. If you took all the sounds on that Voyager Golden Record — thunderclaps, bird songs, whale noises, political speeches, Azerbaijani folk music — and mashed them up, perhaps you’d have something that sounds like That’s because Daniel Lopatin, the man behind OPN, is almost more of a philosopher/sound-collagist than he is a musician. OPN’s music can seem overly sterile on the first few encounters, but to dismiss it as simply pretentious would be ironic given the sonic palette Lopatin uses.
Next two years (especially 2009) were productive for Oneohtrix, with tapes and LPs released on Arbor, No Fun Productions, NNA Tapes and similar labels, including his own Software Records (Mexican Summer sub-label, operated by Lopatin). Main recording alias of Brooklyn-based experimental musician, composer and producer Daniel Lopatin. Discover releases, reviews, credits, songs, and more about Oneohtrix Point Never - Replica at Discogs. The Pitchfork Readers Poll features your picks for the best (and worst) in the world of music, including your choices for Top Albums … Lopatin’s Each of these tracks, including the LP’s final offering, “KGB Nights,” utilize undulating crescendos to build a nondescript narrative.
You can’t dance to it and you can’t fuck to it (or at least it would be lousy for either of those activities). Certain tones, like the baseball stadium organ on “Boring Angel” and “Americans” feel totally out of place. He wants you to think about why you have aversions to certain tones and timbers, and why others immediately bring childhood impressions screaming back into your brain.
From there, though, the album begins to sound like B-movie pastiche. Complete your Oneohtrix Point Never collection. 01. He maintains a fatherly, sensible sympathy about the coming-of-age ordeal that everyone who’s made it to adulthood has experienced, and even though these songs are presented from the view of a fictitious avatar, it’s Lopatin’s most autobiographical work.Oneohtrix Point Never’s earliest critics quickly connected the project to hypnogogic pop, a term used to describe the inherent longing for unrealized futures that dominated Lopatin’s output.
The skittering synth of “Zebra” meshes well against coasting bars of distorted vocals, blips of horns, and gonging bells, rippling together like the black and white-striped hide of the beast for which its named. Click the image at the bottom to begin.
Lopatin admits that he was driven by a desire to wrestle with “crass elements” and “clichéd sounds” to see what would result, and while the juxtaposition can be intriguing, it doesn’t always gel, giving tracks like “Still Life” and “Problem Areas” a haphazardly-assembled feel that belies the work Lopatin put in to composing them, like free jazz but devoid of soul or intuition.There are some success stories, though.
In 2013, Daniel Lopatin wrote Most of these tracks manifest in gasping, gusty bursts — like the weird airy puffs and choral snippets of “Inside World,” or the disembodied banjos and growls of “He She.” The effect can be jarring, a disruption of the elemental flow that characterizes Lopatin’s best work. “Along” returns listeners to the meditative quagmire that characterized the best moments of Similarly, the glassy overture of “Sand Partina” expands that sonic motif, interlacing its tubular echoes with brassy, Arabian-inflected synth projections. Up 09.
“A Pact Between Strangers” suffers the same fate as “Terminator Lake,” feeling hopelessly cheesy almost from the get-go, with some eagle and wolf noises thrown in for good measure. Oneohtrix Point Never Articles and Media. His homage to Cioran appears on As with many of Oneohtrix Point Never’s albums, it’s hard to know if Lopatin is making a serious inquiry into repurposing New Age sounds or if he’s making tongue-in-cheek references to them; the likely conclusion is that he does a bit of both.