Rooted in a chance moment, a routine visit to the dentist, lying beneath a fluorescent panel of blue skies and palm trees, Tranquilizer is a surreal, deeply textural record that asks what it means to escape into the past, and what we return to after. The album was sparked by Lopatin’s discovery that a vast archive of 90s sample CDs had vanished from the Internet Archive, a moment that left Lopatin creatively charged.
Drawing from those salvaged sounds, Tranquilizer conjures a sonic hallucination: ambient calm twisting into digital chaos; mundane textures giving way to emotional overload. It’s a record shaped by obscurity and obsolescence. Real and unreal blur. Samples melt into static. A door creaks open inside a dream.