RICHARD DAVID JAMES :: :: APHEX TWIN

Richard David James, or as the cool kids and their moms call him, Aphex Twin, apparently has the most groundbreaking strategy to intrigue the masses: not talking about his music. Revolutionary or not, who cares? Here’s a guy who builds machines, modifies others, writes code, uses open-source, twists knobs, and mashes buttons since the 90s to create sounds that some claim are sent directly from extraterrestrial beings, yet he clams up tighter than a drum when asked about it.

Aphex’s approach to public discourse is like that one friend who says, ‘You just had to be there,’ leaving you with a serious case of FOMO and a burning curiosity.

Witnessing his rare interviews is like attending a séance—you hope for profound revelations but just end up with more mysteries. It’s almost as if he enjoys watching us squirm as we try to decode the complexities of his tracks, which range from eerily melodic to the kind of beats that make you question the fabric of reality. His public engagements are a masterclass in evasion; he dives deep into the technical jungles of music production yet tiptoes around the emotional landscapes that his music often traverses.

I've been to several of his live gigs in London, orchestrated by Warp Records between 1995 and 2003, and let me tell you, each was an avant-garde circus. The performances were less about the auditory experience and more about being sucked into a vortex of sensory overload. The visuals? A psychedelic trip without the side effects. The unpredictability of his sets? More twists than a daytime soap opera. These weren’t concerts; they were full-blown experimental probes into the psyche of anyone willing to take the ride.

In his rare public utterances and these mind-bending gigs, Aphex Twin doesn’t just reject the conventional artist-audience chit-chat. He tosses it into a blender and hits pulverize. He forces us to interact with his art on its own wild, untamed terms—no hand-holding, no guided tours. Each encounter with his music or his musings is like trying to solve a Rubik’s Cube that changes patterns just as you think you’ve got it sussed. And honestly, isn’t that just the kind of enigmatic charm that keeps the cult of Aphex Twin alive and kicking?”