November 24th, 2011
Oneohtrix Point Never
Helm
Babe Rainbow
Thursday evening - St Giles in the Fields replaces its altar with an electronic array of keyboards and controllers. The pews hold the hunched over faithful. Out of the sound system, twisted electronic music fills the chamber. At a superficial hearing many people seem to think that Oneohtrix Point Never is just another name drop in the ocean of nostalgic pop and chill wave that dominates the short-term memory of hipster IPods. What I saw at the beginning were a more geeky crowd getting up to take pictures of the various audio devices that were ready to power up on stage. Having arrived early I was able to enjoy the atmosphere and the brilliantly eclectic playlist that served the interludes, artists ranging from Screwball to Japan.
Babe Rainbow took to the stage with a call for no applause, which he got anyway – classic audience. I find with these kinds of laptop gigs the stage acts like a window into the artist’s bedroom. You get to watch the process of creation in the performance, even if that amounts to mainly clicking a mouse and staring at a screen. There were some really beautiful moments to the set, with songs I have failed to track down since, which in itself sums up the general vibe of his music - half remembered sounds slipping through your fingers in failed Google searches. It was the perfect warm-up for the night, with a set that eased into the ambient sound world most people were no doubt expecting. Twenty minutes of noise later…
After five minutes of industrial, grinding samples attacking your ears, you begin to realise that this is it. No chords, no progressions, you are listening to this and you don’t know how long its going to last. Upon this realisation the Spanish group next to me became increasingly agitated, to the point of fury. You’re not in Sonar anymore Dorothea. Helm’s set really forced the audience into submission, and it was a masterstroke. At first I had some sympathy for my disgruntled neighbours; it grated against the previous set, and seemed to start off so slow. But then he began playing with the sounds some more and it became something else completely. I guess it’s like stepping away from a pointillist painting after trying to dissect every single detail, and perhaps feeling like every single point of the brush had been poked into your eyes. Whether or not you choose to connect the works of people like Oneohtrix and James Ferraro under a Hypnagogic Pop label (courtesy of the Wire) their music still builds on the principles of noise. The sounds are still ones of outmoded mediums and forgotten technology. If Helm’s application of this was brutal, it was still as emotionally charged as the ambient works. By the end of the set I felt as if I would break down at the touch of a pinprick.
Lopatin’s music has always stuck with me for some reason, both as a solo artist in Oneohtrix Point Never and in his shared project, Games. I first heard “Physical Memories” on his MySpace page and played it on loop while replaying GTA Vice City. I felt that the two went together perfectly, as no matter how pretentious the genre can become, Oneohtrix Point Never’s music always stays real, retaining the grittiness of a used universe. For me this amounted to listening to backwashed 80s synth sounds while wasting pixellated goons under the neon skies of an outdated videogame. The concert showcased music from his latest album, Replica. Once again laptop positions were assumed, this time with accompanying video projection involving kitsch, prehistoric internet icons and cold digital artifacts, with some cartoons spliced in at some points. It made a slightly disjointed impression, that didn’t always work, but was effective in mirroring the explorations of the brave new world being amplified out of Lopatin’s machines. The church added a murky reverb to all the sounds, the beautiful piano chords on “Replica” particularly resonating with the venue. The album itself follows the same format as Returnal (2010), a more focused development on Rifts (2009), if not as comprehensive. There’s a great track commentary, highlighting the minimal approach to the album's haunting textures here:
http://www.dummymag.com/features/2011/11/04/technique-oneohtrix-point-never-replica/
Another stand out track for me was “Andro”, though I cant remember whether he actually played it in the concert, or if my memory has confused listening to the track beforehand with the event itself. If you don’t read the rest of the review I guess its all summed up in that last sentence. I went home and before falling asleep read Borges’, The Night of the Gifts:
> > >
Replica review: http://pitchfork.com/reviews/albums/16031-replica/
P.S. London audiences: when the performer is playing you don’t talk.
Oneohtrix Point Never
Helm
Babe Rainbow
Thursday evening - St Giles in the Fields replaces its altar with an electronic array of keyboards and controllers. The pews hold the hunched over faithful. Out of the sound system, twisted electronic music fills the chamber. At a superficial hearing many people seem to think that Oneohtrix Point Never is just another name drop in the ocean of nostalgic pop and chill wave that dominates the short-term memory of hipster IPods. What I saw at the beginning were a more geeky crowd getting up to take pictures of the various audio devices that were ready to power up on stage. Having arrived early I was able to enjoy the atmosphere and the brilliantly eclectic playlist that served the interludes, artists ranging from Screwball to Japan.
Babe Rainbow took to the stage with a call for no applause, which he got anyway – classic audience. I find with these kinds of laptop gigs the stage acts like a window into the artist’s bedroom. You get to watch the process of creation in the performance, even if that amounts to mainly clicking a mouse and staring at a screen. There were some really beautiful moments to the set, with songs I have failed to track down since, which in itself sums up the general vibe of his music - half remembered sounds slipping through your fingers in failed Google searches. It was the perfect warm-up for the night, with a set that eased into the ambient sound world most people were no doubt expecting. Twenty minutes of noise later…
After five minutes of industrial, grinding samples attacking your ears, you begin to realise that this is it. No chords, no progressions, you are listening to this and you don’t know how long its going to last. Upon this realisation the Spanish group next to me became increasingly agitated, to the point of fury. You’re not in Sonar anymore Dorothea. Helm’s set really forced the audience into submission, and it was a masterstroke. At first I had some sympathy for my disgruntled neighbours; it grated against the previous set, and seemed to start off so slow. But then he began playing with the sounds some more and it became something else completely. I guess it’s like stepping away from a pointillist painting after trying to dissect every single detail, and perhaps feeling like every single point of the brush had been poked into your eyes. Whether or not you choose to connect the works of people like Oneohtrix and James Ferraro under a Hypnagogic Pop label (courtesy of the Wire) their music still builds on the principles of noise. The sounds are still ones of outmoded mediums and forgotten technology. If Helm’s application of this was brutal, it was still as emotionally charged as the ambient works. By the end of the set I felt as if I would break down at the touch of a pinprick.
Lopatin’s music has always stuck with me for some reason, both as a solo artist in Oneohtrix Point Never and in his shared project, Games. I first heard “Physical Memories” on his MySpace page and played it on loop while replaying GTA Vice City. I felt that the two went together perfectly, as no matter how pretentious the genre can become, Oneohtrix Point Never’s music always stays real, retaining the grittiness of a used universe. For me this amounted to listening to backwashed 80s synth sounds while wasting pixellated goons under the neon skies of an outdated videogame. The concert showcased music from his latest album, Replica. Once again laptop positions were assumed, this time with accompanying video projection involving kitsch, prehistoric internet icons and cold digital artifacts, with some cartoons spliced in at some points. It made a slightly disjointed impression, that didn’t always work, but was effective in mirroring the explorations of the brave new world being amplified out of Lopatin’s machines. The church added a murky reverb to all the sounds, the beautiful piano chords on “Replica” particularly resonating with the venue. The album itself follows the same format as Returnal (2010), a more focused development on Rifts (2009), if not as comprehensive. There’s a great track commentary, highlighting the minimal approach to the album's haunting textures here:
http://www.dummymag.com/features/2011/11/04/technique-oneohtrix-point-never-replica/
Another stand out track for me was “Andro”, though I cant remember whether he actually played it in the concert, or if my memory has confused listening to the track beforehand with the event itself. If you don’t read the rest of the review I guess its all summed up in that last sentence. I went home and before falling asleep read Borges’, The Night of the Gifts:
‘I’ve told this story so many times I no longer know whether I remember it as it was or whether it’s only my words I’m remembering.’
> > >
Replica review: http://pitchfork.com/reviews/albums/16031-replica/
P.S. London audiences: when the performer is playing you don’t talk.
