Daniel Lopatin's latest offering, "Tranquilizer," released under his acclaimed alias Oneohtrix Point Never, presents a captivating journey through soundscapes built from forgotten digital artifacts. Much like his seminal work "Replica," which famously repurposed vintage TV commercial audio, this new album finds its genesis in esoteric commercial sample CDs unearthed from the Internet Archive. The artist's fascination with the ephemeral nature of online content, particularly its tendency to vanish and reappear, deeply influences the album's core aesthetic. "Tranquilizer" emerges as a less overtly conceptual endeavor compared to some of his prior releases, instead embracing an intuitive approach to sound manipulation that yields an unexpectedly accessible and engaging auditory experience.
Lopatin’s previous works have frequently explored the intricate relationship between memory, cultural detritus, and the fluidity of digital information. Albums such as "Magic Oneohtrix Point Never" delved into the transformative "format flips" within radio broadcasting, while "Again" engaged with the dialogue between different phases of his artistic self. "Tranquilizer," however, diverges from these more explicit conceptual frameworks, opting for an immediate and visceral engagement with its source materials. The album stands out for its less academic and more emotionally driven construction, resulting in a work that is both profound and refreshingly direct.
The sonic palette of "Tranquilizer" is remarkably rich and diverse, marrying ambient new-age synthesizers with powerful, expansive bass tones. Orphaned fragments of traditional instruments like strings and flutes are woven into the fabric, alongside percussive loops that, through their clunky truncation, generate unexpected and compelling rhythms. Unlike typical sample-driven music that might focus on the cultural implications of specific genres or eras, Lopatin here prioritizes the sheer expressive potential of the sounds themselves. This intuitive assembly contributes to the album's immediate appeal, making it one of the most instantly gratifying Oneohtrix Point Never records in recent memory.
The album commences with delicate sounds of wind and chimes, soon joined by a twelve-string guitar. A deep, distorted voice utters the sole identifiable words, "For residue," which can be interpreted as a celebratory nod to enduring remnants of the past. As the piece progresses, digital pads illuminate the soundscape, and a choir of synthetic voices emerges, mingling with sounds that evoke seagulls or distant cries. This initial track sets a mysterious and anticipatory mood, its structure mimicking the flow of weather, seamlessly transitioning into subsequent pieces. These feature soft tonal clouds, fluctuating arrhythmic pulses, and a vibrant array of acoustic and electronic elements, from piano and harp to cinematic strings, jingling bells, and even ambiguous barks or cello bounces. The track "Lifeworld" further exemplifies this chaotic beauty, starting with scattered percussion reminiscent of infinite monkeys at typewriters, before blossoming into an ecstatic burst of easy-listening reminiscent of the Avalanches' "Since I Left You," albeit filtered through OPN's distinctive, elusive style.
The music on "Tranquilizer" defies easy categorization. It's too dynamic to be purely ambient, too unpredictable for conventional song structures, yet possesses a surprising catchiness that transcends typical experimental classifications. The sounds, often abstracted from their original contexts, wash over the listener in immersive waves. Its inherent unpredictability and dense layering make conscious analysis challenging, with countless elements constantly appearing, disappearing, and subtly shifting. Despite this intricate complexity, the album lives up to its title, maintaining a consistently calming and unintimidating atmosphere. Even at its most avant-garde, "Tranquilizer" effortlessly guides the listener through its musical currents, presenting a coherent and compelling grammar of tone and pulse that remains profoundly musical, even without traditional melody, harmony, or rhythm.
While inspired by the fragile nature of cultural objects and identities in the digital age, "Tranquilizer" is notably less melancholic than one might anticipate. Moments of wistfulness emerge, such as the clear piano melodies of "Cherry Blue," which subtly nods to Cocteau Twins, or the pulsating chimes and distant echoes of "Modern Lust," cherishing a muted jazz trumpet snippet. The album also displays surprising grace amidst its sensory abundance, as heard in the sci-fi synthscapes of "Measuring Ruins," the Weather Channel-esque funk of "Fear of Symmetry," and the elastic ambient trance of the standout track "D.I.S." The album also features playful elements, notably in "Rodl Glide," which dramatically shifts from ghostly R&B to vibrant rave stabs and Detroit techno chords, offering a glimpse of fully formed musical ideas beyond Lopatin's usual sonic universe. The closing track, "Waterfalls," blurs the boundaries between his world and ours with rainsticks, soprano sax, harpsichord, and tabla. Far from expressing worry about cultural precarity, Lopatin conveys an undeniable sense of joy and liberation, embracing the present and delighting in his creative process.