The Soft Side of Aphex Twin
Written by Nathan Evans
Featuring artwork by Becky McGillivray
Additional editing by Anouska Liat
Few other names in the stadium of electronic music ring as potently as Aphex Twin. The brainchild of Richard D. James, it is his most recognisable and successful moniker, and has taken many forms through many transformations. The identity of Aphex Twin is scattered and far-reaching, a tall order in the dimension-spanning field of electronic music. The visage is ever-shifting, not just wearing but clashing styles such as techno, glitch, ambient, and jungle, leading to moods and energies that are lands apart, but live under the same domain. Yet, it seems that most have heard only a fraction of that.
When discussing his work, many bring up his chart-successful singles such as the woozy trip of 'Windowlicker' or the psychotic drill ‘n’ bass of 'Come to Daddy'. Both cracked the UK top 40 charts (with Windowlicker even stretching up to #16), and both were helped by outlandish, Chris Cunningham-directed, music videos that perfectly complemented each track. Firstly, there is 'Windowlicker'’s profane use of limos, narcotics and scantily clad women donning the chilling grin of Richard himself. Now an iconic face, it again appeared in the onslaught of disturbing images that visualised 'Come To Daddy', easily besting contemporary shockers like Marilyn Manson and Nine Inch Nails in terms of fear factor. Few have come close even today, and these moments set Aphex to become a by-word for ‘impenetrably weird’. Few could imagine that he also made some of the most emotional and humane material under the ‘dance music’ umbrella.
In the age of the internet, however, the world is unturning his other, more introspective side. His first full-length, Selected Ambient Works 85-92, seeps dance music past the eardrums using ethereal synth-work and vast dreamscapes. It also sits at 12 million YouTube views on a single full stream of the record.
1985 to 1999
Contrary to the album’s name, Richard abstains from direct Eno worship, instead turning the thumping sounds of techno and inventing something very distant, more head-driven than hip-driven. By wrapping derelict atmospheres in the sheath of techno beats, the individual experiences that sculpt SAW are like stepping into different rooms of a recently-abandoned warehouse, each painted with a different pastel and haunted with the remnants of human life. Not to say that the music here is lifeless; nearly 30 years removed from initial impact it may now seem rudimentary, though back in ‘92, alongside similar releases from the Orb and Biosphere, Aphex was inventing new viscera from the bones of dance music.
But further branching off from this inward-looking arm of his work, there is a particular soft face to the much-fabled man. A tiny world of prepared piano, caressing melodies, and sweet emotion that truly tells of his full range and aural prowess. Though Richard is known to be a maverick, the sparks of this intangible energy of his are what completes him.
Chronologically, the first hints of it appear on the interlude-length ‘i’, one of the earliest compositions he’s released, being as young as 14 if going by the recording dates woven into his debut album’s title. Early experience with creating audio programs and being a resident DJ developed his skills to produce something so refined and matured, it was almost like what he was doing was nothing new. The type of timelessness that feels like the dust and smoke surrounding it is there from laying dormant for thousands of years, and songs like ‘i’ are the most potent examples of that, flowing as naturally as the wind itself. Standing abstractly with distant synthesisers, it pops out of the tracklist as one of the only moments breathing as true-blue ambient.
Continuing to hone on softer ground on the post-SAW single, ‘On’, he guises synths and keys that sound ripped from SAW underneath the kind of abrasive production seen on later works, acting as a bridge between two worlds. But despite opening up his discography with more meditative works, these were only flashes of James’ most eloquent side compared to what appeared in 1995's I Care Because You Do. Holding potential to be the black sheep of his album library, on the project he runs a defective laboratory that tags its subjects with anagram variants of his name. He tests out more carbonated sounds (‘Start As You Mean to Go On’), clunkier percussion styles (‘Cow Cud Is a Twin’) and the very frequencies of the human ear, for better or worse (word to ‘Ventolin’). I Care is not his most identifiable album - unless the criteria is the cover art - nor the most accessible but it still firmly holds its place as a wildly versatile ground that bred freakish, and at times grippingly dangerous, concepts.
Deep within the foul swamp of this experimental ecosystem, however, hides a silky trip-hop emerald: 'Alberto Balsalm'. The track glides like a river, obtaining momentum from the deep, gravitating synthesisers. Carrying along with it a careful beat that sounds disarmingly organic, the shampoo-referencing song erodes any palpitations with splashes of metallic drum fills. In the asphalt jungle that is his musical archive, ‘Alberto Balsalm’ sits in the suburbs as a track brick-laid from completely foreign elements, yet comes together stunningly to finish off a very Gothic sonic hovel.
This tendency for advancing his sound flowed into his manic descent into drill ‘n’ bass, the Come To Daddy EP. Like mixing the contents of Aphex Twin’s fridge into a singular entity, it’s a project that ranges anywhere from unnerving to mortifying. Drum hits spray out amongst the fray of synth sequences that unsettle; it should be no surprise that the disc was released in anticipation for October’s spooky season, but hidden in the forbidden forest are brief moments of bliss. Following the gruesome industrial display of the title track, 'Flim' juxtaposes nimble percussion with glass piano twinkles, while the just-as-optimistic 'IZ-US' again pulls from the trip-hop world for its steadily rustling drums.
On another key short release during the period - the ‘Windowlicker’ single - is a B-side whose title is an impenetrable mathematical formula, as well as the dainty appendix that is ‘Nannou’. Dedicated to his girlfriend, it plays like a music box rendition of a contemporary, D&B-style Twin cut. However, before a contemporary Twin cut was drill ‘n’ bass, he constructed his largest holistic environment ever. Two years after Selected Ambient Works 85-92, he saw fit to succeed it. Yet instead of visiting ambience to bring some of its characteristics back to techno, James upped sticks and moved there, opening himself up to explore the sonics of nature and from it, luring out his soft side.
Selected Ambient Works Volume II
The second instalment to Selected Ambient Works is a wide valley littered with angelic moments; it is a different beast to the first, but a definite gentle giant. Growing up in Cornwall from a young age, those remote and pastoral surroundings influence him most potently on this record’s naturalistic take on electronic music.
Foggy synths and wailing drones power the cinematography of James’ world in an act of taking lessons from the school of Eno - the potency in what is left unfilled - and distorting the product at his leisure. Aphex reduces the pulses that dictate rhythm to the size of ripples, beating quietly to the point of numbness and becoming invisible to the listener. Melodically, his signature eeriness still comes through, alongside distant voices that scratch parts of the album like it were a battered, overgrown ruin, relating back to the very rustic cover artwork. Altogether, it’s a fully meditative experience so minimal, the tracklist can literally only be discerned from natural images, only adding to the openness to draw personal meaning from the music.
Volume II was inspired by Richard’s lucid dreaming, as well as his synesthetic tendencies that allow him to attribute colours onto sounds, shapes and symbols. This is apparent when listening to songs like '#17' (aka 'Z Twig') and '#20' (aka 'Lichen'), that see him control and shift these colourful, dazed settings into whatever forms cross his mind, revealing a spectrum of luminescent shades and tints. 'Blue Calx' is the only cut with an official title, and is the more settled half-brother of ‘Green Calx’. Fitting with its name, the track embeds a fittingly solemn chord progression underneath watery electronic waves, ebbing and flowing as if in control of its own tidal cycle.
Above all, Richard’s soft side is bare on the track '#3', also known as ‘Rhubarb’. Once again, it seeps out in shyness, but comes in the form of a short but poignant synth loop - it’s astounding what Twin can do with just five to six notes. Consistently compelling for seven minutes, many associate this piece with death and nostalgia, the repetition of such a resonant motif sticking to people like a good memory. The airborne weight of the atmosphere seems to eradicate time for many, stretching it to feel like the rare instance of a fully-formed dream, and that fade-out ending enhances the sense that the song could live on forever. ‘Rhubarb’ is one of Richard D James’ simplest songs, yet it has transcended even his incredible stature to become a place of solace for millions around the world.
However his ambient works would not be seen again on such a scale, as in Twin’s dextrous mind, his creative flow channelled into analogue modes.
2001 to 2013
In 2001, Aphex Twin delivered his most divisive record up to that point, Drukqs. Another double LP, Twin released it out of fear of a potential leak after leaving an MP3 player with over 200 of his tracks on a plane. This half-explains the bipolar structure of the project, switching restlessly from his most acidic drill ‘n’ bass yet to incredibly lavish prepared piano pieces inspired by John Cage.
On a side note, one interview saw James explaining his reasoning for the tracklisting order, inadvertently predicting the playlist culture that dominates music consumption today: “the way I listen to music now is that I buy a CD, put it on the computer and just take the tracks I want anyway. I’d hope that people would do the same with this CD.”
The odd cosiness of songs like ‘Petiatil Cx Htdui’ and ‘Nanou 2’ (a follow-up to the ‘Windowlicker’ B-side) stems from Cage’s ideas of altering the sound of the piano with different objects, like cutlery or screws, placed in betwixt the strings. This could slightly change the timbre of what comes out and to some, including James, it makes all the difference. With track titles being a mixture of his usual coded scripts and Cornish words, he somehow managed to top himself in creating his most impenetrable release, yet within the damp vestibule is one of his most heartfelt ballads.
‘Avril 14th’ is another of those piano compositions, but has the distinction of being flipped by Kanye West on his hip-hop opus, My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy. Yet Kanye’s reduction to a single loop negates the storytelling ability of the original; though only 2 minutes and change, it manages to string together an arced narrative so gentle, the surrounding air weighs it down.
The track tip-toes in with light steps, slowly growing in tenacity as the instantly-disarming main phrase repeats. Tension floats in as it alternates with a set of minor chord pitches and when the third act resolves the conflict, the hairs on the scruff of the neck arise involuntarily. There’s such a stillness to this relatively brief moment, a languor that allows the listener to soak in the details, such as the faint clicking of the mechanised Disklavier piano used in the recording. Though this piano can play itself, Richard played it by his own hand, in turn silently touching down on a theme that is present throughout Drukqs and his wider discography: the partnership of man and machine.
Drukqs was the ruminative final notes of Aphex Twin’s studio catalogue before being stored away for a 13-year cold period. Little is known as to why his output clogged up, but given that he had just entered his 30s, he most likely took reprieve to focus on family. Still, the releases came guised under a selection of his infinite pseudonyms; 3 compilations under AFX, a collaborative EP with LFO, and a silent release credited to the Tuss (which, in James’ adolescent spirit, is Cornish slang for ‘erection’. Fabulous.)
Moreover, the most buzzed-about project during this hiatus wasn’t even new, per se. In mid-2014, a test pressing of Caustic Window’s eponymous album was listed for sale. One of only five copies, it was originally a shelved LP from Richard that was recorded during his perceived “golden era” between the two SAW albums, and the excitement from fans sparked a successful Kickstarter campaign to buy the elusive pressing. Together they eventually bought it for $46,300, but the attention the story received reinvigorated people’s love for James’ work, as Pitchfork puts forward: “the backstory stands as proof of the connectedness of fandom in the digital era”. By September of that year, he made his grand re-entrance.
2014 to today
After completing his comeback with Syro, he made up for lost time by unloading a dense, messy web of ideas and soundscapes onto Soundcloud. Dumping nearly 270 tracks spread over 20 hours, trawling through the whole thing is a daunting task, but even here amongst reworkings of classics and tracks like ‘nqz3 singing chaos montage+6’ and ‘(throatie)’, his soft side makes some cameos. It’s nestled in the jauntily-ascending bass of ‘15 autumn travels’; tucked inside the 16-bit aesthetic of that and ‘5 Scorrier’. It can be found in the aptly-titled ‘18 mello punchy’, where it is pitted against a clattering AFX-style beat, very much in accordance with those earlier Come To Daddy tracks. Meanwhile, ‘13 high hats tune tamclap orig’ manifests his balmy touch into cosmic bleeps and synths that reverberate off the crunchy lo-fi drums in each eardrum. Reaching further into this emporium of scattered ideas, the most valuable golden nugget lies in the laidback stoner-ambience of ‘34 ibiza spliff’. The title itself makes explicit reference to its intentions as a breezy, almost jazzy, lead gently sparkles with the warmth of civil twilight. This, like many softer Aphex Twin songs, demands to be consumed horizontally.
NOTE: All of Aphex Twin’s Soundcloud tracks can be found on YouTube as well as the Internet Archive.
Elsewhere, his Computer Controlled Acoustic Instruments pt2 EP acted as a smaller continuation of the prepared piano cuts from Drukqs, especially on the Disney score-worthy ‘piano un10 it happened’. It’s something that would never be a music video or turn up in one of Twin’s blood-fizzing live shows, but that’s exactly what makes these moments of intimacy from him so special; the fact that it’s almost an unspoken part of himself, presented without further discussion, without need for further discussion. These rare comets are each a solitary experience that feels custom-fit for you, only strengthened by their omission from live shows and visual backdrops. These qualities and every other quality we’ve talked about; the way it stops time, how it suspends just outside of linear chronology, the way it appears from the ether and surprises you, the way it shuns from giving meaning and allowing you to imburse your own meaning, the comfort it gifts you - are what constitutes the soft side of Aphex Twin.
And, right at the very end of his comeback album Syro, he takes off the mask one more time without warning. ‘Asiatsana’ marries the intimacy of Drukqs’s piano sonnets with the simple motif-shaping and mighty aura-shifting of ‘Rhubarb’. Though Aphex is no stranger to melancholia, this song has a distinct sense of finality to it, as if it were a funeral dirge. Slow, sombre and with hinted sourness, there’s still a quiet sensation of hope that filters through, like the sole flickering street lamp in the black mass of a soggy night. It is the greatest sensation.
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