Last year, Richard D. James came out of what often seems
as a semi-retirement to offer the most talked-about
electronic records of the year. His first proper new
material since 2001’s Drukqs,
the Analord series of EPs was made up of forty-one
tracks spread over eleven volumes, only made available
on vinyl and all collected in a specially commissioned
binder, the lot released on Rephlex, the imprint he
co-founded some thirteen years ago with Grant Wilson-Claridge.
This remarkable series had fans talking weeks before
the first volume was released, and the quality of the
material collected reasserted, if needed, James’s
place as one of the most forward-thinking and influential
musicians of his generation.
While James released a considerable amount of material
during the first few years of his career, he has, since
the mid-nineties, been far more elusive, carefully managing
his image by remaining slightly out of the limelight.
Yet, his influence can be felt in most contemporary
electronic records in one way or another. His work has
taken him into a variety of genres and styles, from
the lush Detroit-infused techno ambiences of Selected
Ambient Works 85-92 and Surfing
On Sine Waves to the dark isolationist tones
of Selected Ambient Works Vol. 2, the earthy
post-industrial scope of …I Care Because You
Do, the drill’n’bass of the Richard
D. James Album and the classical influence of Drukqs.
Quite surprisingly for such a gifted musician, the Analord
series, a title borrowed from a track by long-term friend
and fellow Cornwall native Luke
Vibert, didn’t instantly appear to break grounds
in the same way as previous releases. The ten tracks
collected on this album-size condensed version reinforce
this sentiment. There are hints of almost every single
periods James has gone through in the last fifteen years,
but nothing that appear to bind them together. On repeat
listening though, James’s overall style emerges
once again triumphant. The melodies are complex, often
unpredictable, and yet catchy. Similarly, the beats
are surgically cut, assembled and positioned to work
either in or against the groove, unequivocally supporting
the post-acid generic theme which imperceptibly develops
over the length of the album.
The sonic scope of these tracks is instantly familiar.
Said to have been created on James’s many bespoke
machines, the tracks all display variable amount of
razor-sharp metallic percussive noises, acid squelches,
hyperactive bass lines and analogue soundwaves. While
Fenix Funk and Reunion find James
totally immersed in AFX territory, the ghost of Polygon
Window comes in and out of focus on Pitcard
and that of early Aphex becomes more palpable as the
convulsive shocks of Boxing Day, Batine
Acid or Cilonen wax and wane, and the
melancholic touch of PWSteal.Ldpinch recalls
some of his best moments.
If this album fails to show a real progression from
past recordings, the reception reserved to the vinyl
series of last year, each EP going to sell into the
five-figure quantity, is a clear enough sign that Richard
D. James has lost none of his appeal. This first new
material in five years might only serve to demonstrate
James’s relevance on the contemporary electronic
scene, but it is also a confident proof that he remains
a totally unique and unpredictable artist who continues
to cast a strong shadow on a genre he has so carefully
modelled.
4.1/5 |
