NYC-via-San Diego producer London O'Connor is not your typical anything. He both raps and sings over his own wonky production, but it's difficult to cast him into any particular mould.
O'Connor's debut album, O∆, originally saw a Soundcloud release back in 2015, but in his eyes, it was still unfinished. So when he signed with True Panther Sounds, he felt it necessary to fix those imperfections by hiring esteemed mastering wizard Vlado Meller (Channel Orange, Yeezus) and give it a re-release.
Though it isn't the kind of album that shows off a professional remastering job — it still flaunts a raw and DIY sheen over every inch of the album — O∆ definitely merits a wider audience. O'Connor's process is no doubt modest but he knows how to make a song pop, using rippling synths, languidly bouncing beats and poignant lyrics, even when his falsetto coo makes him sound like he's half asleep.
It might be easy for some to pass his songs off as obtuse, but O'Connor appears destined to become a voice of a generation. His songs are certainly stylish, but they aren't without substance: on "Guts," he addresses the object of his aversion with a liberating sing-along chorus; he uses his lazy-ass uncle as motivation to do something with his life on "Oatmeal"; and he criticizes his friends for being slaves to technology on "Nobody Hangs Out Anymore."
London O'Connor could become one of pop music's great weirdoes. He has the knack for cramming hooks into the unlikeliest places and ending up with unforgettable songs. If this is what he made with nothing, the potential for his music when he has everything at his disposal seems limitless.
(True Panther Sounds)O'Connor's debut album, O∆, originally saw a Soundcloud release back in 2015, but in his eyes, it was still unfinished. So when he signed with True Panther Sounds, he felt it necessary to fix those imperfections by hiring esteemed mastering wizard Vlado Meller (Channel Orange, Yeezus) and give it a re-release.
Though it isn't the kind of album that shows off a professional remastering job — it still flaunts a raw and DIY sheen over every inch of the album — O∆ definitely merits a wider audience. O'Connor's process is no doubt modest but he knows how to make a song pop, using rippling synths, languidly bouncing beats and poignant lyrics, even when his falsetto coo makes him sound like he's half asleep.
It might be easy for some to pass his songs off as obtuse, but O'Connor appears destined to become a voice of a generation. His songs are certainly stylish, but they aren't without substance: on "Guts," he addresses the object of his aversion with a liberating sing-along chorus; he uses his lazy-ass uncle as motivation to do something with his life on "Oatmeal"; and he criticizes his friends for being slaves to technology on "Nobody Hangs Out Anymore."
London O'Connor could become one of pop music's great weirdoes. He has the knack for cramming hooks into the unlikeliest places and ending up with unforgettable songs. If this is what he made with nothing, the potential for his music when he has everything at his disposal seems limitless.