Polymath Daniel Lopatin's most well known alias as Oneohtrix Point Never (a pun on Boston FM radio station Magic 106.7) is, like much of the music he produces, a name that initially is not all that easy to come to terms with.
Appearing during Illuminate Adelaide as part of the Unsound festival, Oneohtrix Point Never was supported by fellow electronic artist Corin, her opening set consisting of an unbroken performance of her just released (14 July) album 'Lux Aeterna'.Commencing as a monastic choral piece with synth-emulated vocals, the music being gradual layered with the addition of Corin's own sampled ghostly, wordless vocals. The looped visual of an eclipse like an ever-changing gigantic halo an appropriate accompaniment.
Corin - image © Saige Prime
The meditative, new-age quality soon gave way to a distorted clattering, brush-like driving percussion that overpowers the earlier ambient introduction.
Corin loses herself in 'song', rocking back and forth like a classical pianist, her hands seemingly playing and conducting simultaneously. The composition builds into tense, overwhelming drama late in the performance heightened by the pounding repetition of the percussion and bass drones before a sequence of synth stabs give way to a buzzing coda.
In creating (or indeed writing about) this 'genre' of music, it's unavoidable not to make reference to forebears Popol Vuh or Jean-Michel Jarre, and in fact the opening introductory piece by Oneohtrix Point Never does bear some similarities to the latter's 'Oxygene Part 1'.
The music performed is transformative, playing with time, speeding up, slowing down, the shape and form of the composition in flux. The wow and flutter of tape, and the pops and crackles of vinyl are representative of a somewhat imperfect, broken future that the music encompasses.
Oneohtrix Point Never - image © Saige Prime
For over an hour we are treated to a masterful layering of sound, periods of ambience consisting of the minimalism of reverbed twittering alternating with an at times impenetrable assault of percussive effects.
Latterly the songs are almost teased into a popular rave style before being pulled back into abrasive, jarring experimentation.
Elements of new age and sound bathing are employed, and there are echoes of late Kraftwerk and, of course, Vangelis' soundtrack work; the repetitive sequences are like the Philip Glass soundtrack to 'Koyaanisqatsi' rendered as techno.
Apart from the traditional set up of keys and sequencers, at a couple of points during his set it appears as if Daniel is attempting some mid-set carpentry when employing the use of an obscure instrument known as a daxophone with a bow.
Oneohtrix Point Never - image © Saige Prime
An enormous, die-cut-like layered screen stage set up displays visuals that work in tandem with the music, similarly subverting pop culture with elements such as childhood family photos and long forgotten cartoons that are nearly familiar but distorted out of recognition like a retrofuturist 'Fantasia'.
For an encore, Daniel says he's going to have some fun and proceeds to construct a song live from nothing. It's like a retroactive primer for the set that went before, not quite a master class for his eclectic performance but certainly enough to appease a grateful audience.
