Contrast is essential in music. As the boundaries of what is acceptable are stretched and moved every day, contrast is what keeps us invested as a listener . Producers, composers and artists show us the boundaries of their auditory world. And we are then much happier to walk around and appreciate our surroundings. If the musician leads us down a narrow path, with no room for interpretation, we leave. Starved and frustrated.

Daniel Lopatin (Oneohtrix Point Never) spent a lot of time discovering his sound on a Juno 60. He has expressed that his lack of equipment gave him a chance to get to understand textures and depth . Like a painter working with only one colour, you learn to use absence, sparsity and contrast to garner interpretation, rather than relying on shallow vibrancy or eclecticism of sound . This is clear throughout the EP. Lopatin forces the listener to wrestle with depth and intricacy, in the most minimalist of tonal and textural movements .

Contrast is the simple answer when understanding the beauty of ’Physical Memory’. The 10-minute track can be split into two main sections when it comes to sound. One dissonant and artifact-ridden, the other moving and melodic. These two parts which mingle and co-exist intermittently towards the end. Daniel Lopatin implements a new-age inspired, sonic palette in an abstract battleground of sound .

We arrive in the maelstrom of ‘Physical Memory’ as gently as Lopatin will allow. The soundscape is immediately introduced to us. Arpeggiated synth tones roll, duplicate, emerge and cascade before us. The space is boundless. The lower, structural parts of the song are as complex too. So, any attempt to ground yourself in any meaningful way, leaves you following spiralling synths that disappear into the chasm of noise . The depth created is reminiscent of the intricate descriptions of the post-apocalyptic worlds of Philip K. Dick . As well as the endless, fractal nature of the online world we all strive to carve out a home in.

Shattered, ever-changing sound waves cascade down meeting the thick underbelly of noise. A sharp, two-tone sound bobs in and out of focus, like a mast guiding us through the tumultuous layers beneath. The cacophonous nature of the soundscape almost causes you to squint just to hear it. It can feel as if we are only witnessing to a small piece of much larger proceedings. One narrow pathway in a palimpsestic tapestry. The lower frequencies move like thick, digitised sludge. The higher frequencies pour endlessly like glistening viscera from above.

The track invites interpretation. Personally , it’s hard for me not to envision traversing through the very centre of a perennial storm. You wade through, unable to see an end. The 3-minute mark is when Lopatin gives form and structure to your feelings of existential dread . An emotive, stringlike sound emerges out of the thick fog. It gives a definitive traction to feelings of defeat, at the hands of sublime size and depth.

What was chaotic becomes defined. What was large and intense becomes sad and melancholic. The depth of the track becomes emotional and existential. Two or three higher tones and a steady selection of lower, bass notes make up the melody. These bass notes push through the veneer created in the first act of the track with defiance, giving a form to the dissonant soundscape .

Certain cascading noises bob in and out of perspective intermittently . The cacophony of noise gradually fades away. This leaves the new, melodious sequence a destroyed and desolate landscape to fill. The higher toned notes of the sequence become more prominent. The slight bending of each of the note gives the melody a realistic sound. It is as if we are watching a panning shot of a storm-tossed landscape. The lightning soundtracked by a solemn, wavering pan-flute. Sharp, laser-like sounds cause the final note to ascend to a great height. Only for the deep bass note to signal the beginning of the sequence.

The rough, shattered sounds of the first act creep in again. Weaving in and out of the sad melody, emblazoning a cold nostalgia on proceedings. And as the track comes to a close, the higher notes become more dissonant and unkempt, as structured melody gives way to soulless noise .

The title is something to note here. Physical Memory is the Random Access Memory attached to the motherboard of the computer . It is also a part of the computing system that only the CPU can access. Lopatin has said before that his titles are often comedic, but this one feels somewhat austere . As if this song is an ode to that incomprehensible part of our digital lives that remains unseen. A part in which machine communicates with module through invisible means, hidden away from human eyes .