12.21.14
Aphex Twin - Syro
The Richard D. James Album from Aphex Twin was---along with Mouse On Mars' Autoditacker---my first exposure to electronica beyond Moby cassettes at the mall. You never forget your first. A mathemusically inclined friend of mine was giddy over "Milkman," so at his insistence I took a headlong dive; my introduction to Richard D. James was hearing his distorted grunts which sounded like a possessed corpse. Accompanied by a delicate tinkling noise, he began to sing modestly about his not-so-modest fantasy involving the milkman's wife and drinking milk from her bosoms. That wasn't the shocking part. The real mind bender was the sudden drill beats: what can best be described to the uninitiated as a woodpecker rhythmically assaulting someone's metal siding.
Contrary to the stereotype of electronic music, Aphex Twin is far from being soulless. Alien at times, yes. But never without some measure of life. RDJ's sense of humor often results in mundane vocal fragments becoming track fixtures, or seemingly out of place details and unusual production choices confounding listeners. This entropy is carefully balanced against the precision arrangement of tracks that grow and evolve like organisms, tracks that are beautiful in their strangeness of proportion. Because of this, RDJ was the first personality I could ascribe to electronica. His is a truly memorable face in a music scene that is often faceless. Literally: his smiling visage has been the main visual component for Aphex Twin, appearing in everything from album covers to music videos, often twisted into something vaguely unsettling. It's nearly impossible to separate the man from his music. More specifically, it's nearly impossible to siphon off his cultivated image: whether he drives a decommissioned tank around the English countryside and is a conspiracy truther or whether he's just having a go, trolling, or trying to cloak himself in oddness and half-truths is uncertain. That uncertainty is what's most compelling of all, though. It's symptomatic of a time before the Internet was widespread, when pockets of fans would develop rumors in insolation of one another and when these rumors would gain more enigmatic appeal as they spread and distorted through a game of telephone. None of this would mean much if it weren't for the already compelling case his music presents.
Syro is no different. It's a restless album that spans a bewildering number of production techniques, electronic instruments, different genre cues; its an album that also tells the story of an eccentric virtuoso's creative process. Each one of its tracks was supposedly recorded with a different arrangement of studio equipment, and with each new track RDJ would start rebuilding everything from scratch again. The extended track names give some clue as to what equipment was used in these recordings. It's a procedural approach that sets up the parameters in advance, and what follows sounds like it's continually evolving. Listening to these tracks, it's evident to me that they've been composed by an expert hand; the arrangements are extremely meticulous but often subtle in their brilliance. I've seen some complaints about a lack of visceral impact or Sryo's underwhelming nature given its status as Aphex Twin's "comeback" album. Fair enough. It doesn't feature him haphazardly blowing through a straw to make beats like he did for Trent Reznor's commission or anything like that. To me, RDJ seems less concerned about being a prankster now, less concerned with bewildering his listeners. His focus seems to be on the means just as much as the ends, on building studios and exploring ways of creating sounds. On taking the language he developed early in his pursuits and interpreting different genres with it, all while using various production techniques.
That's not to suggest this record isn't playful or even challenging in spots. RDJ's sense of humor really shines through in the ridiculous swagger present on some of these bangers. The dancing-on-the-tips-of-your-shoes charm of "produk 29" with its swelling synths and mindless chatter about whores and clubs is one of my favorites. Despite being a fairly reclusive fellow, he's keenly aware of club culture and how ridiculous audiences can be; after all, he likes to DJ at small venues under an assumed name every once in a while. In this same vein is "180db_" which is simultaneously obnoxious and glorious with its insectiod bass bumping fit for rattling car windows. "4 bit 9d api+e+6" is nestled between the two, and it presents a lovely picture of dancefloor mystique complete with nostalgia-pining synth pads and jingles that sound like they were taken straight from an early Fromsoft Playstation title, all woven up in AFX analog beats. Tracks "PRAPAT4" and "s950tx16wasr10" in turn have a definite
Richard D. James Album vibe to me, though the latter infuses a healthy dose of interplanetary space travel. This leads into the final track's offering of ultra-analog mesmer wherein RDJ revisits a live performance piece involving a piano suspended from the ceiling. Evoking the name of his wife (but not quite), this track is perhaps the most haunting moment of the album.
Present throughout
Syro as well are the left-field vocal samples for which Aphex Twin is known. Culled from various family members as well as the man himself, these unintelligible vocal smears add an extra human element, albeit a warped one. I find they add an element of mystery to the album. They seem familiar, yet they can't
quite be discerned. The mumbling on opener "Minipops 67" even sounds like some kind of bastardized version of autotune at times, all warbled yet somehow sincere despite sounding like gibberish. At the end of the track there's an alien abduction. Meanwhile title callback "syro u473t8+e" opens with a woman's foreign tongue before proceeding straight into a quirky electro-funk number.
It's worth noting that RDJ has been working on a lot of material since his last full-length. Syro is only part of that. One that is said [by him] to have the most "mainstream appeal." Apparently he's been experimenting with sustained tones and electronic organ music, among other things. Based on recent interviews, I get the impression that Syro's tracks might have just as well not been released had the crowd funding campaign for one of his 'lost' LPs not given him feels. This suggests he's been tinkering away in private for the sake of exploration. Then again, it could all just be part of his cultivated image. We'll never know for sure.