10-something years on, when the man, the myth rises from his slumber, he's not reinvented himself, though he's not quite the same either. He's a man returned from war, honey left out to crystalize, a beach at uncharacteristic tide. Gone are the days of reckless reinvention, even the modified piano excursion of drukqs are gone (closing track aside), this is Aphex Twin in stride, master of his craft, making a plainold new Aphex Twin record, packed with disconnected stutters, ambient washes, bleaaaping skitters - the same tricks from new angles, in new combinations, with a couple new edges. There's something sad about that.
It almost distracts from the fact that from a pure listenability standpoint, from a pure consistency and craft standpoint, this is his best album ever. There's a contagious atmosphere that nothing of his ever had; this is by far the most cohesive album he's ever created.
And he does branch out - borrowing influence on beats, mixing new approaches with precocious abandon. But this is Richard James all grown up, out of his long teen age.
So it's pretty fucking great. And if you like his stuff you'll like this. But in deference to the core of this blog, fuck, I am too old or too stressed or too lame for this shit anymore. Even though I think its fairly brilliant I can't listen to it, and I can't reasonably go much higher than 3.5/5
Friday, September 19, 2014
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