You can do all sorts of things with Replica, the new album of eerie moodscapes from Oneohtrix Point Never. Its many synthesized woodwinds and occasional hooting sounds mean you can play it in your car and pretend that you're landing on the roof of a building in Blade Runner. If Phillip Glass becomes addicted to cocaine and moves in with you to try to clean up, you can give him the album so he has something to listen to when he comes home from group, looks at himself in the mirror and starts methodically doing cocaine. Or you can put on "Sleep Dealer" and get really scared.
What you can't do is dance to it. Replica is cinematic: Each track evokes a distinct mood, and together they create an almost narrative progression. They aren't really songs, though. Oneohtrix Point Never is 'round the house music, good for working or for cleaning a vaguely posthuman bathroom. It's not easy listening, and the many creepy tracks mean Replica won't replace Yo La Tengo in your rotation anytime soon. But it's beautifully produced and it sounds like nothing you've ever listened to. I am assuming you never really listened to Vangelis.