Aphex Twin
68 Million Shades
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Aphex Twin is the most recognized of Richard D. James’s numerous aliases (AFX, Polygon Window, and GAK among them), and under this name he was a club favorite in the late 80s. James, a true experimentalist, has drifted from unusually substantive techno (Selected Ambient Works 85-92) to spare and creepy soundscapes (Selected Ambient Works Volume II) to punishing, hip-hop-inflected attacks (…I Care Because You Do) to hypnotically relentless grooves (Donkey Rhubarb, which included a collaboration with Philip Glass). Like most of his previous output, James’s latest effort, the cheekily titled Richard D. James Album, giddily overlays serene, almost banal synthesizer melodies with harsh, jarring rhythmic programming. For the latter, this time James turns his attention to drum ‘n’ bass, the preferred underground style of the last few years–and he makes mincemeat of it.
Most drum ‘n’ bass either manipulates breakbeat samples or uses sophisticated drum programming. James, something of a cranky Luddite for the electronic music world, uses more primitive drum machines, many of them jury-rigged, to create his percussive front line. Unlike standard drum ‘n’ bass beats, which are both sharp and bass-heavy, Aphex Twin’s are squeaky and rubbery, recalling the squelchy rhythms of early Kraftwerk. Despite the sometimes triple-speed rhythms that distinguish drum ‘n’ bass, either the bass lines or a secondary rhythm provides the club-goer with something to dance to; such is not the case with the Richard D. James Album. While there’s a definite twisted funkiness to something like “Cornish Acid,” many of the tunes break down unpredictably, either radically shifting tempi (“Peek 824542,01”) or ditching fixed rhythm altogether in favor of wan synth textures (“4”). The dense percussion on a track like “4” does little but beat down the fragile little melody that flutters beneath it.
The album’s high-octane closer, “Take 3,” proves that SHJ can vie with hard-step heavies like Doc Scott, but as euphoric as their beats get, Coxon and Wales still manage to cram in an atmospheric interlude before the rhythms collapse under their own weight. It’s not all perfect–“Take 2” drags along without doing much of anything–but like Aphex Twin, Plug, Squarepusher, and a handful of others, on 68 Million Shades Spring Heel Jack broadens the scope and appeal of club music without toning it down for the lowest common denominator.
