In the age of many tired attempts at a Y2K revival, no generation has found a greater kinship with the Y2K era than the one born during it. The appeal of the turn of the millennium isn’t very much about whether the coveted Gen Z audience likes sequins and flip phones again. Rather it is the undeniable essence that both the early-2000s and the post-2020 world share: the unchained optimism at dawn after some once in-a-lifetime harrowing events. There is not a lot of tolerance for snark in a generation that survived and moved forward as crucial years of their late-teens and early twenties were muddled up in a bad cocktail of unprecedented times. A generation fostering arguably the most hyper-aware and politically charged since the advent of the Internet doesn’t have a lot to say in rooms that peddle in manufactured oppression and satire for satire’s sake. They would rather all take their earnest wins and good days as they come and cut their losses.
Dorwin John paints a soundscape brimming with that very same earnest optimism, regardless of the odd unrequited crush confusion/heartbreak that might make up a song lyrically. A 24-year-old self-taught songwriter and producer, with a background in classical Indian vocals, it is evident that the artist’s vision stems from technicolour dreams rather than a starting line. He has his earnestness to thank for the beginning of the ride he is on, when, in his late teens, he posted a cover of a favourite song (“Sage” by Ritviz) in 2019, seemingly leaning into his training and adding the texture he gleaned from the original. In typical Internet-baby fashion, the cover made the rounds, and he would go on to be co-signed and even collaborate with the artist. He continues to share covers on social media, ranging from Papon to RD Burman to AP Dhillon, all accentuated with the same care and reverence, and hashtagged with “#FlipWithDorwin”. He honed his production skills in 2020 (apt and prime to try something with all the time spare) and has since worked on creating a consistent presence as an independent musician, all culminating in a whirlwind, three years later.
2023 was a banner year for that presence. Fresh off of releasing his debut solo single in December of 2022, “Aasha”, he would go on to release two more solo singles. The first, heavily inspired by his late grandmother, housed another first, as he added elements and lyrics in Marathi, after her urging. He stayed regular with the releases, with “Jaga De” following quickly in January (a track which in his own admission had a long gestation process, having started working on it in 2021), and “Parinaam” and “Gaya Gaya” releasing in the latter half of the year (the artwork for which was a joint collaboration with his father). Somewhere in the middle of establishing his individual catalog, he supported Ritviz on his nation-wide tour for the launch of his album “Mimmi” (where he was asked for an autograph for the first time ever – another landmark), featured on a track on Shah Rule’s new album, soundtracked a Tinder advert and a teaser for the international Netflix breakout hit “Money Heist”, made the line-up of the Bacardi NH7 Festival in Pune as well as the Orange Festival of Adventure and Music in Dambuk, and squeezed in a Sofar Sounds gig as well – all before dropping his debut EP, which he did in June of this year, 2024.
“Haan, Ohkay” follows through on the sound he set out to create on his previous singles – an unabashedly pop outing that is as intricately put together as anything by any of his influences. A combination of an already-deft hand at production and composition and playful vocals harkening back to his classical training, it is a collection that feels whole and complete on the first listen itself. All three tracks name John as the sole songwriter and producer (the project was mixed and mastered by Ayan De), and they benefit from the solitary influence. The EP, clocking in at 7 minutes and change, opens with “Naksha”, a composition that blends sounds inspired by video games and ringtones with lush instrumentation by the end of track. The second track, “Moze” – the first to be released and conceptualised – is a clear frontrunner in terms of streaming hits at the time this was being written. Joining his many international peers in reviving and reimagining the punk-rock sounds of the early 2000s, it plays with his vocals as the song progresses, blending his influences with his now-trademark electronic treatment. The closer is the titular track, which opens with the sounds of keyboard keys tapping into a phone, typing a sentence with three words and eight letters, and hitting send. “Haan, Ohkay” the song cements John’s ambitions as first and foremost a visual writer, and it is a no-brainer to imagine any of his tracks scoring someone else’s picturesque meet-cute or heartbreak on Netflix. Dorwin John’s tracks aren’t pretending and posturing to be something more macro than they really are, and instead rely completely on his skills as a layered composer and producer to paint a picture which is all-encompassing and universal, from the jitters before speaking to a crush to the regret when you don’t to the resigned acceptance of everything they do. “Haan, Ohkay”, the EP, offers a tease to the cinematic vision of young love capable by the artist, who appears to be just getting started.
