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Aphex Twin in New York Times
 

Xanatos from NYC on 2001-11-04 23:56 [#00048498]



Him and Richard Hawtin had a full page article in the Art
Section of the new york times, there was a crazy picture of
him. They talked about how they are the masters of
electronica reverting back to old instruments which are
becoming obsolete. A long review of Druqks and how he's
combining prepared piano with the crazy drums & shit.
Stumbled upon it randomly...Anyone else read it?


 

Xanatos from NYC on 2001-11-04 23:57 [#00048500]



Unfortunately phobia I can't scan it for you because the
page is too wide for my form-feed. Maybe you can get it
otherways


 

Xanatos from NYC on 2001-11-05 01:48 [#00048525]



Here's the article thanks to MutantDeathPengwin

APHEX TWIN and Richie Hawtin, two of the most important
figures in contemporary electronica, have spent a decade
celebrating software. On their intriguing, often mysterious
records, they've created their own sonic vocabularies
through electronic experimentation. Now both producers are
back with ambitious new albums that betray an unexpected
fascination with hardware. Aphex Twin's "Drukqs" is a
two-hour panegyric to the piano, while Mr. Hawtin's "DE9:
Closer to the Edit" expands the musical horizons of a more
modern instrument: the turntable. Each album takes the
producer's chosen musical instrument as its starting point,
then follows the trail of inspiration out into the world of
electronics.

Aphex Twin is Richard D. James, a producer from Cornwall,
England, who makes music that both suggests and precludes
the possibility of dancing: twisted bass lines fissured by
stuttering percussion; catchy tunes that melt into white
noise, only to reappear just when you've given up hope. In
1996, he released "The Richard D. James Album," an
excellent, pop-friendly disc of dense rhythms and
picturesque melodies. A year later, he returned with the
single "Come to Daddy," a screaming, splintered tantrum. (In
the 1999 movie "8mm," "Come to Daddy" is what's spinning on
the psychotic killer's turntable.) Aphex Twin is a
reclusive, acerbic figure, and this persona has only
increased his appeal among fans and critics: in 1999, the
British music magazine NME called him "the most original
composer of our time."

"Drukqs" (Sire/Warp 31174-2) is the first Aphex Twin album
since "Richard D. James," and the new album consists of 30
tracks on two discs, most of which have cryptic names like
"Jynweythek." The cover photograph depicts the inside of a
piano, and indeed, the ill-tempered auteur has fallen in
love with his well-tempered clavier. There are quiet études
for acoustic piano, built around small clusters of notes
that never quite congeal into chords. And a handful of songs
could be solo works for one of John Cage's prepared pianos,
with objects inserted between the strings. In an interview
by e-mail — the only kind of interview he would consent to
— Mr. James waxed rhapsodic (and perhaps parodic) about
his favorite piece of hardware. "I want to live inside my
piano; it's my fantasy," he wrote. "Maybe I will build a
giant one, someday."

Mr. James also fills "Drukqs" with noises that not even Cage
could have coaxed from one of his pianos. Aphex Twin's
melodic sensibility is both complex and instantly
recognizable, and he's a virtuoso with a drum machine —
"Mt Saint Michel + Saint Michael Mount" has a rhythm track
that's so busy it almost stands still. That's the mixed
blessing of "Drukqs," which does so many things at once that
it sometimes does nothing at all. Simultaneously familiar
and opaque, it often threatens to devolve into a pastiche of
Aphex Twin's favorite tricks.

It doesn't, thanks largely to the ubiquity of the piano,
which serves not just as the album's muse but also as its
chief design element. "Drukqs" seizes on the sharp attack
and long decay of a piano note, and almost every sound is an
explosion that drifts slowly down to earth like a spent
firework. One song, "Kladfvgbung Micshk," uses a prepared
piano for both the rhythm and the melody, and this
suggestion — that a rhythm instrument can have a melodic
value, and vice versa — creates a sense of ambiguity that
hovers over the whole album: we're often not quite sure
whether we're hearing a beat or a tone. The last three songs
are a journey back to the acoustic realm, from drum machine
madness to brittle electronic melodies to prepared piano,
ending with a piano unadorned — brittle melodies played on
an 18th-century drum machine.

In some ways, Mr. Hawtin's career has paralleled that of
Aphex Twin. Both earned acclaim in 1993 for their
contributions to "Artificial Intelligence," a series of
albums on Warp Records: Aphex Twin, recording as Polygon
Window, released "Surfing on Sine Waves"; Mr. Hawtin,
recording as F.U.S.E., released "Dimension Intrusion." In
the years since, Mr. Hawtin, using the pseudonym Plastikman,
has made music that builds on the minimalism and
adventurousness of Detroit techno. His most recent
Plastikman album, "Consumed" (1998), was a toneless
collection of hums and clicks, electricity echoing across an
empty dance floor.

In 1999, Mr. Hawtin — recording under his own name —
released "Decks, Efx & 909," a mix of other people's music
(and a few tracks of his own). "Decks" refers to the
turntables he used to do the mixing, "Efx" refers to the
processors he used to manipulate the records as they played,
and "909" refers to the Roland TR-909 drum machine, which he
played alongside the records. The disc included a diagram to
explain which of the 38 records was being played and when
(there was lots of overlap). The result was a rousing
collection of sparse, hard-hitting techno that moved from
one style to the next through a sophisticated process of
addition and subtraction.

The sequel, "DE9: Closer to the Edit" (Novamute 3064-2),
takes this approach one step further. Mr. Hawtin has been
working with a system called Final Scratch, which allows an
old-fashioned turntable to play digital audio files stored
on a computer. Final Scratch includes a 12-inch vinyl record
encoded with digital information, not music. A standard
record player turns this information into an audio signal,
and the computer uses that signal to figure out where the
needle is and how fast the record is moving. Final Scratch
treats the record like a spinning mouse pad and a standard
stylus like a mouse. As the disc jockey manipulates the
vinyl record — speeding it up, slowing it down, playing it
backward — the computer manipulates whatever sound or
snippet has been selected. This technology might finally
liberate disc jockeys from record collections, and that's a
big deal for anyone who has learned to use a turntable as a
musical instrument.

Final Scratch has already liberated Mr. Hawtin from the
linearity of old-fashioned records, which can only be played
forward or backward. For "Closer to the Edit," he broke down
75 tracks into hundreds of snippets and then reassembled the
snippets into an hour of minimalist pounding. There are some
moments of high drama, especially near the end, when a
buoyant organ cuts in, swiped from a record by Philippe Cam.


Reached by telephone at his home in Windsor, Ontario, Mr.
Hawtin said that Mr. Cam's track was originally "a sweet
ambient record" — nothing but an organ note for about 10
minutes.

"It's like a dance classic now, the way it worked out in the
mix," he said.

It's a shame there aren't more surprises like that. Too much
of "Closer to the Edit" rushes by without making much of an
impression; its amalgamated thump never shows any signs of
letting up.

Mr. Hawtin has compared his mix CD's to jigsaw puzzles, and
Final Scratch allows him to make the pieces smaller. But how
small can the pieces get before the puzzle becomes a
painting? As Mr. Hawtin put it, "What is the difference
between me turning on a drum machine and sequencing a number
of drum sounds, and me resequencing a number of samples from
records?" Much of "Closer to the Edit" was mixed without the
help of a turntable, and yet Mr. Hawtin would never have
made it without the influence of Final Scratch. He has taken
a disc jockey's approach to organizing his samples, sliding
from one to the next without stopping to catch his breath.
The rhythm holds constant while tone and timbres shift —
it's essentially a solo album put together like a D.J. mix.
Like "Drukqs," "Closer to the Edit" borrows its internal
logic from the instrument that inspired it.

We're used to seeing old-fashioned piano keys on the latest
synthesizers. And Final Scratch could do for the turntable
what synthesizers did for the piano, revamping age-old
hardware with brand-new software. Paradoxically enough, the
threatened obsolescence of these instruments has made their
musical value clearer than ever: the piano and the turntable
suggest not just two sounds, but two different approaches to
making music. As Aphex Twin and Richie Hawtin demonstrate,
instruments can also be organizing principles, concrete ways
of thinking about abstract sound. For electronic musicians,
these "ways of thinking" function as virtual genres: a
musician who thinks like a pianist makes a different kind of
album than a musician who thinks like a disc jockey, even
though they both have access to the same infinite library of
sounds. And so "Drukqs" and "Closer to the Edit" are
tributes to the importance of hardware in an age of
software. They are testament to the staying power of
yesterday's musical instruments, reborn as tomorrow's
musical metaphors.



 

Phobiazero from Sweden on 2001-11-05 07:35 [#00048586]



Ah, cool! Thanks Xanatos....


 

Phobiazero from Sweden on 2001-11-05 07:38 [#00048587]



...and thank you, MutantDeathPengwin! :-)


 


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