The gap between Richard D. James records is easily exaggerated. It’s true that with this week’s phenomenal Syro, Aphex Twin has released his first proper album under that name since 2001’s Drukqs. But he has long put out music under various aliases, and the past 13 years’ interregnum, if not quite matching James’s early-1990s prolificacy, has still brought at least a dozen singles and EPs and—depending how you count, and including this year’s long-shelved Caustic Window LP—no fewer than three full-lengths from the pioneering electronic musician. A couple of songs even saw release under the Aphex Twin name.
Here are the five best tracks from the years when Aphex Twin went relatively quiet:
Aphex Twin: “XMD 5a” (Analord 10, 2005; Chosen Lords, 2006)
Richard D. James may not have issued an Aphex Twin album between Syro and Drukqs, but he did use the name for one two-track single. Analord 10 was, confusingly enough, the first in a series of what turned out to be 11 Analord singles and EPs. Even more confusingly, its two tracks (the A-side is the spastic, buzzing “Fenix Funk 5”) were the only Analord material not attributed to James’ AFX alias. What’s easier to understand about the series is that, as its title suggests, it leans toward the messier tones of analogue synths rather than computer software. At nearly eight minutes, B-side “XMD 5a” comes close to being the longest Analord track, and it uses that sprawl for a fidgety tour de force worthy of the Aphex Twin logo. As with Syro, it’s an endlessly mutating track, shifting from synthesized bells to shaker-backed squiggles and then veering off after a ghostly piano reframes the song altogether. It all comes together for a gritty yet grand conclusion that also caps off Analord compilation Chosen Lords—and should’ve served as some warning that James was not to be counted out just yet.
AFX: “Crying in Your Face” (Analord 4, 2005; Chosen Lords, 2006)
RDJ’s music has often had a futuristic quality, especially at the dawn of the online era, but he can do retrofuturism, too. The Analord series tended to revisit the squishy sonics of TB-303 acid bass lines, and “Crying in Your Face” certainly does that. But there’s a certain fragile moodiness that might draw a different set of comparisons if used by an icy synth-pop revisionist such as John Maus. And though there are other Analord tracks with vocals, the incomprehensible jabber here foreshadows the frequent use of cryptic voices on Syro. Most of all, however, there’s an affecting sense of melancholy: Best to think of it, YouTube commenters seem to agree, as crying in your own face. Because you’ve got no one else’s on which to dry your tears.
AFX: “PWSteal.Ldpinch.D” (Analord 8, 2005; Chosen Lords, 2006)
As if the track titles on Syro weren’t abstruse enough, James gave all the material on Analord 8, 9, and 11 names that looked like computer viruses. As legend goes, some antivirus software would quarantine or delete the tracks if they were downloaded or ripped to a hard drive. It can’t escape notice that “PWSteal.Ldpinch.D” is also among the most conventionally catchy of the Analord cuts, with a nu-disco thump and dusky atmosphere that make it a rare track from this period that you might actually put on if you wanted people to dance. Add a low-affect female vocal and it might even fit in on one of Johnny Jewel’s After Dark compilations.
AFX: “PWSteal.Bancos.Q” (Analord 9, 2005)
When James compiled the Analord tracks as Chosen Lords, a constant theme in fans’ responses was that he didn’t really choose the best stuff. The problem is that there’s little agreement to be found about which stuff, really, is the best of Analord. “PWSteal.Bancos.Q” missed the cut, but it would have been a fascinating complement to its near-namesake “PWSteal.Ldpinch.D”. Like that one, this is among the most uptempo and hypothetically dancefloor-friendly of the Analord work, but here James has taken a busier and odder tack, with acid squelches in the foreground rather than that cool disco glide, and plenty of insistent clatter. An old-school RDJ deep cut is “Pacman (Power-Pill Mix)”, recorded under the Power Pill alias; “PWSteal.Bancos.Q,” too, feverishly conjures that old joke: “If Pac-Man had affected us as kids, we'd all be running around in dark rooms, munching pills and listening to repetitive electronic music.” At the very least, you wouldn’t want this infecting your PC. It'd be next to impossible to get work done.
The Tuss: “Last Rushup 10” (Rushup Edge, 2007)
In the press cycle for Syro, James has finally confirmed he’s behind the Tuss, a pseudonymous project long suspected to be his doing. When Pitchfork reviewed Rushup Edge in 2007, we called it an EP, but given that it spans three 12” records, it’s easy to see why online resources such as discogs.com characterize it as a full album. You could stake a claim for putting either of the release’s first two tracks on this list: “Synthacon 9” and “Last Rushup 10” are both expansive, ornate pieces of techno that are far tidier and more overtly virtuosic, à la Syro, than what you’d get from Analord. “Last Rushup 10” wins out, though, for the sheer journey of it: It’s never easy to predict what’s going to happen next, but what does happen never feels forced. And once you’ve arrived amid a gently descending blanket of synths, by way of a jagged left turn that transforms the whole proceeding—all from humble beginnings within some sort of drum-and-bass video game, sprinkled with vocoder-like murmurs—there’s little reason to doubt whose unique sensibility must have been the guiding force. The title might help explain the long wait for a proper Aphex Twin album, though. When you’re playing near the edge, why rush up?