Oneohtrix Point Never - Zones Without People
Toby Frith Tuesday, December 1, 2009 at 08:59PM 
ONEOHTRIX POINT NEVER - ZONES WITHOUT PEOPLE (Arbor)
The very embodiment of the bedroom producer, Boston-based Daniel Lopatin has released a prodigious amount of music within the last two years, but I must admit that this gorgeous 30 minute opus is the first I’d heard of his material. He follows a rich line in beatless synthesizer material that has recently seen a rise in stock, eschewing digital software in favour of analogue hardware, and whilst it’s difficult to argue with the fact that nothing particularly new is being etched out with these layered soundscapes, there’s something to be said for the emotions that he pours into his compositions.
“Zones without People” is on the whole, an album that doesn’t depart too much sound-wise from synthesizers but thankfully doesn’t outstay its welcome. Indeed it’s actually something of a rarity, cutting short at half an hour when perhaps one or two more songs may have helped to give it extra character. The central piece is ‘Format and Journey North”, a 9 minute pastoral epic that starts out with field recordings of bubbling brooks, but soon mutates into a delightfully majestic piece winding its way in and out of several key changes and moods. It demonstrates Lopatin’s ear for change and his ability to take the listener in and out of textures with ease. By the end the peaceful summer harmonies are being replaced by something even more ecstatic. The following title track provides contrast with its deep minor keys and somewhat ambiguous theme, slivers of melody accentuating melancholy.
The flip side of the album starts off with the careering “Learning to Control Myself”, embryonic synth lines which rapidly dissolve into dissonance before ending abruptly, and then regurgitating a new melody. It almost provides an entire revolution from melody to noise, and back again. There’s time for a quick nod to the Cosmic masters Tangerine Dream with the piquant glory of “Disconnecting Entirely” before we’re again launched into analogue overload with the crescendo-like “Emil Cioran”. Frustratingly for me, it ends far too soon, and “Hyperdawn”, which whilst providing light relief, seems to disappear as soon as it appears.
Lopatin provides us then with a fleeting glimpse into his sonic oeuvre, and I must say it’s a distinctly polished one. Whilst “Zones Without People” is indebted to the likes of Warp, Tangerine Dream and Vangelis, at the same time his songs have their own distinct identity, and his ability to condense a range of emotions and textures into compositions that often only last 4 or 5 minutes is a definite skill in an age where many producers are content to ply us with only a limited number of sentiments. Time to raid that back catalogue I guess!
Toby Frith
Reader Comments (1)
Nice post,
Keep up the good work,
Thanks