It's been a fairly long time since musicians have begun to recycle old sample CD's for music production following their widespread archival and subsequent redistribution, particularly as a number of the original companies behind these have long since closed their doors and the rights to these samples strewn into the air, but none of them have truly eschewed the impulse to remain anchored to their original contexts, most examples remain strictly influenced by the music they would have originally assisted in the production, whether that be Jungle, R&B or whatever. The resulting music may be fine, of course, but it is not particularly inventive, their influences being clear and their production following the lines of imitation rather than pure creative output.

In a similar spirit to the esoteric 80's television commercial sampling present in Replica, Lopatin eschews the context behind these samples, their collections, and intended use cases, now seemingly working via intuition and creativity. I personally spotted a few samples that I have either previously used or stumbled upon browsing the CDs folders, but the manner in which they are used removes any sort of context, and holds them in a bubble whilst employing their complete expressive power, underlining the incredible sounds that some of these samples provided and which were until now underutilized.

Even things that could at this point be considered trite; the choirs, elaborate synth pads, and stationary acoustic recordings, for instance, all enjoy a second life and newly shine beautifully both as single, individual entities, and in the large group of sounds which Lopatin has eloquently arranged, drafting some incredibly dense yet coherent and beautiful passages throughout the tracks, for however dense the record gets, it never fails to remain tranquil, perhaps even meditative, and certainly enthralling.

Despite the background of the record being one centered around the fragility of archives and subsequently culture in the digital age, there seems to be a lack of any real melancholy, instead seemingly being a celebration of these samples and their importance, all in a distinctly OPN manner. The flaws present, whether that be clicks from wonky loops, the low sample rate, or whatever, are all appreciated, exalted, and repurposed. Eventually of course, it all seems to find a chaotic climax, a point where the density goes beyond the limit and shatters, at times in a blur of sound, at times with a whimper.

Daniel Lopatin isn't the first one to rediscover, reconsider and recycle the sample packs of the 90's, but he is seemingly the first to truly remove them from their context.