Aphex Twin ProfileThere’s always been something quasi-mystical about the acid-weened, ginger Cornishman Richard D James, better known as Aphex Twin.
Fuelled by his apparent disdain for fame, fans, journos and other hyped artists alike, he’s generated over the years the image of an insidious, shadow-dwelling mad scientist who inspires so many rumours that separating fact from fiction is essentially futile.
But there are other reasons for James’ infamy, not least his grandmaster level technical mastery and an imagination that seemingly knows no kerb. Whilst his once Promethean output has dwindled over the years, the seemingly endless supply of new material being premiered at gigs suggested that he might still be sitting on a goldmine. Syro is officially his first album in 13 years, and bears unsurprisingly lofty expectations.
While not quite as revolutionary as some of his previous works, Syro is still a mind-mangling affair. Stupefyingly complex, it romps through maximalist jungle and hyperventilating rave to the restful, dreamlike acoustic piano of aisatsana. It’s characterised by James’ increasingly skewed take on the barely human voice, as exemplified on the impish gargling of minipops 67 (Source Field Mix) and the ecstatic infant chatter on XMAS_EVET10 (Thanaton3 Mix).
Perhaps it’s the protracted gestation, but Syro has more microscopic attention to detail than any other Aphex Twin release to date. As such, it sounds much like James’ most ‘finished’ album and as close to a definitive statement that we could wish for.
