Selected Ambient Works 85–92 – Aphex Twin – Released 9th November 1992, Apollo Records / R&S Records
Selected Ambient Works 85–92 (or SAW I for short) is the debut album from Richard D. James, better known as Aphex Twin. 30 years on from its release this chillout classic remains his most beloved album and regularly tops lists of the greatest electronic music albums of all time.
It certainly tops mine, but really, that’s only scratching the surface of how much this album means to me.
I bought Ambient Works 1 on tape back in the day and from the moment I put it in my Walkman it was love at first sound.
And for every moment since it’s been there, spanning various mediums and devices, plus I always make sure I have a copy on my phone at all times for musical emergencies.
From my late teens to present, SAW I has always been there. For every freakout, at the end of every night out, chilling me out, calming me down. From manic Mondays to bleary after parties and for just those moments when I go, “what’ll I put on?” then I spot that black on white Aphex logo, lift up the LP and everyone nods, “yeah!”
Every morning cleanup of clinking roach-filled bottles, powdered tabletops and clattering cans. Every end of night mission, every disco bus of gurning gobshites or staggering and jabbering through the morning rush, on the London Underground, the U-Bahn and the Barcelona Metro, earphones in, Aphex on, time for some Tha. (Good ole Tha.)
From the mists of Ireland to the dusty Australian outback, SAW I was there. When 90s Americans who said Green Day was alternative and thought 2 Unlimited was techno were in need of schooling, SAW I was there.
“Wow that’s really neat” they said.
Of course it is, sez I, it’s Aphex fuckin Twin! Ambient fucking works yee philistines.
30 years on this album still rocks and Green Day are still shite.
It’s not just an album, it’s one of my oldest and dearest friends, sharing life’s journey with me every step of the way. Every road trip, bad trip, doomed relationship and bullshit job.
Every disappointment, every death, every lost job, lost cause or lost friend. Every build up, every breakdown, every breakup, every meltdown, every single hihat, bassline, 808 cowbell and snare, every muted channel, every blast of bass distortion, I know every moment of this album better than I know myself.
So 30th happy anniversary you gorgeous fucking album and here’s to 30 more, that’s if I miraculously manage to live that long. And if not, fuck it, we’re sure to have some more crazy times before then and I’m sure if the world ends in the meantime, you’ll be the first and last album I’ll put on before during and after the apocalypse.
Teenage Kicks (Snares, Claps & Hihats)
The first thing to mention, of course, is that this ain’t ambient.
Rather it’s Richard D James’ attempt to subvert the genre by hijacking the term to create a musical Trojan horse. Ambient in the traditional Brian Eno sense is background music, non-intrusive, non-threatening, completely devoid of rhythm and purposely created to be soothing, rather than challenging.
SAW I, on the other hand, demands your attention right from the beginning and holds it throughout with rhythms and melodies which seem simple at first, but each relisten reveals further layers of complexity, bringing a greater appreciation each time.
It certainly wasn’t ambient, though it was, and remains, the perfect post-club chill-out album or, as Mixmag once called it, “the underground Dark Side Of The Moon.”
If you believe the hype, young Richard D James (gonna just call him RDJ from here on) was a child prodigy and electronics geek who began experimenting with tape loops before graduating to exotic chemicals and synths.
He was also hustling from a young age, winning Sinclair Spectrum competitions, selling self-made synth sounds on disc, using the proceeds to buy more gear and then tweaking the electronics to create his own Frankensynths.
A recurring topic of interviews, particularly the early ones, is how he regularly altered the electronics of his synths to make them sound different and sometimes even created his own circuits from scratch.
Another recurring topic was his insistence on never using presets and either creating synth sounds from scratch or sampling obscure everyday sounds and voices. (Or failing that, some Willy Wonka and Robocop.)
SAW I was created on limited equipment, which has always been part of its charm. For sampling I’m reliably told he used a Casio FZ-10 sampler (he also namedrops this sampler on Syro) as well as a Roland TB-303 for the acid (obviously) and a Roland R-8 drum machine (packed full of 808 drum samples) providing the drums.
Most of the pads come from either a Yamaha DX-7 or DX-100 (or maybe he already owned both).
This is, of course, just a brief summary which I’ve hastily combined from multiple sources. You could easily spend a whole afternoon geeking out to the numerous articles and forum posts on this topic as I did.
Though much of this album was carefully sequenced, it still sounds like much of it was performed live, with lots of little hands-on touches that help give this album its charm.
Always keep in mind this isn’t a studio album. All of these tracks were composed by a teenager still living at his parents’ house, in a bedroom studio he called Lannerlog.
The tracks were all recorded to cassette tape and later shared with friends. These lucky friends then picked some of their favourites and these were apparently the tracks which were included on the album.
In a weird way, it works – the atmosphere these tracks create sound more authentic than 99% of the electronic music recorded today. And besides, what does a little tape hiss matter when so much of the music here is drenched in oceans of reverb anyway?
Tape may be a lossy, noisy and often infuriating medium, but it’s also an analogue one which lends saturation and warmth to recordings. If anything the format helps to add to the atmosphere this album conveys.
That of a young prodigy in his room jamming with electronics to conjure forth dreamy soundscapes the likes of which we’d never heard before.
It might not be high fidelity, but it oozes authenticity.
We Are The Music Makers…
Xtal is the first track on the album and one which always has an instant pacifying on me.
As I said, I never leave the house without a copy of this album on my phone and Xtal has been my go-to chill out tune for three decades now.
Given that it’s such a chill choon, you’d be surprised to learn there’s a bit of aggro surrounding this one. The track is based around another piece called Evil at Play by Steve Jefferies, Mary Carewe and Donald Greig.
Steve Jeffries is quoted as saying, “we’re still waiting 30 years later for some recognition that we came up with that tune.”
Which is correct to a point; Xtal samples Evil At Play, however Jeffries’ assertion that RDJ lifted the track “in full” isn’t entirely accurate since RDJ’s arrangements are (quelle surprise!) quite different.
But even if that wasn’t the case, it’s similar to the James Bond theme controversy, Monty Norman may have composed the original melody, but it was John Barry’s arrangements which made the song so popular.
Xtal exists as an artefact from the rave era, when sampling was more commonplace and royalties never mattered since nobody ever expected songs to be released commercially anyway.
As for the track name, many refer to it as “X-tal” when in actuality it’s an abbreviation for “crystal”.
That’s one of the few things I do remember from electronics, but unlike RDJ I’m no electronics expert so don’t ask me to come around to help you rewire your synths.
Ah… Tha!
Oh how I love Tha! What’s it about? Fuck knows.
They’re waiting for a train or something, or at least that’s what it sounds like to me. Also someone may or may be fucking around with someone called Chris, or with a packet of crisps. (Or maybe Chris has some crisps?)
Honestly, you’ve no idea how many times I’ve tried to understand what the conversation is about, though it’s reassuring to know I’m not the only one as it’s a perennial discussion online.
I’m assuming this conversation was recorded on a cassette while RDJ was out and about, the recording is replayed over the track various times, fading it in and out, with RDJ occasionally adding reverb to it in places.
The track itself consists of a muted kickdrum, almost like a 4/4 heartbeat, accompanied by soft dreamlike pads and a bassline that will stay stuck in your head all day.
Tha is another alpha chillout tune for me, musical Xanax, one of the ones I’ll put on when I’m stressing out, freaking out or in danger of losing my temper. Xtal comes first to cool things down, then this follows shortly after to help me regain my composure and momentum.
Right, ok I’m good, let’s get moving.
Maybe that girl’s not waiting for a train, maybe it’s got nothing to do with trains but that’s what I associate it with so it’s the track I always play on visits to London, perfect on a packed Tube, hanging at the back with the window down, head tilted back, air rushing by as I try to keep my cool, carriage clattering along, foot tapping to Tha…
Pulsewidth is another instance of RDJ repurposing melodic elements for his own ends, this time from the Neutron 9000 track Butterfly Holocaust.
Unlike the vocal samples on Xtal, there might be more of a case here since he’s essentially lifted the track’s chord progression, but the genius here is in how he’s reinvented that, turning those chords into a main riff with more of a house feel, then building the track around that new groove.
In fact, this is perhaps the closest RDJ ever got to making a “hands in the air” tune. It’s certainly one of his most danceable, especially with that nice big rubbery bassline.
Ageispolis, another gorgeous piece of music this. Love the low subby bassline on this one and how the snares and hihats snake around it.
The main melody was sampled by Die Antwoord – remember those twats? – easily the third worst thing to come out of South Africa, yeah less said about them the better.
Instead let’s just sit back and enjoy some proper music…
i – not much to be said about i, other than my spellchecker keeps capitalising it and I keep telling to fuck off. It’s apparently the oldest track on the album, dating back to James’ early teens.
Makes sense really, as it seems to be just one synth with no other equipment used.
It’s also the closest thing to actual ambient music on the whole album, in that it’s got no beats whatsoever, just a melody created with those distinctively Aphexy pad chords.
Green Calx – so I’ve just Googled what calx is, because for years I hadn’t a clue.
According to Wikipedia, “Calx is a substance formed from an ore or mineral that has been heated.”
Good to know. Why is Richard D. James obsessed with the stuff? That much I may never know.
In any event Ambient Words II would later feature a track called Blue Calx and the 1996 Richard D. James album has a track called Yellow Calx.
Perhaps it’s inspired by all the smelted circuit boards on his various DIY synthesizers that have oxidised in various pretty colours. So assuming this one was copper-based.
Anyways, Green Calx is an odd track for me, I absolutely adore the main melody/acid line combo but those synth toms drive me crazy.
Truth be told my synth tom tolerance has always been low. I do enjoy a lot of 70s funk but tend to flinch when I hear them – buh-boo! – the only exception being when I hear them on reggae tunes (Black Uhuru can use all the synth toms they want for example and for whatever reason it doesn’t seem bother me. I’m a weird fucker like that.)
The curious thing about Green Calx is that synth toms were already on their way out at the beginning of the 80s and this track was definitely made at the end of the 80s.
How do I know that for sure? Because of the two Robocop samples.
Midway through the track we get a second breakdown which features the Robocop samples. One being the “boing!” sound of the dinosaur’s eyes popping (from the 6000 SUX car advert) and the other being the sound of ED 209 trying to traverse the stairs. (American engineering at its finest.)
Although the movie came out in 1987, it didn’t come out on video in the UK until the end of 1988, so unless RDJ was in the cinema with a tape recorder (tbh I wouldn’t put it past him) this track would have had to have been made late 1988 or early 89.
Robocop’s been sampled a few times by RDJ, including one on the famous Soundcloud dump which originally contained a track called Bob Morgan (though the character’s actual name is Bob Morton.)
You might say I’m obsessing over small details, but then remember we’re talking about Aphex Twin here, and this is surface-level obsession compared to other fanboys, trust me.
There’s some delightful little DIY flourishes on this track also. Note how, just near the end, he flicks the fader a few times, while the main synth melody is playing so it cuts in and out, it’s a classic DJ effect but you’ll hardly ever hear it used in recorded music except maybe on old skool hiphop albums.
I’ve listened to this album so many times I know exactly when it happens and without realising, I mime this fader cut every time. It guess it’s kinda like previous generations playing air guitar.
After this bit there’s another recorded conversation faded in. Again I’ve no idea what it’s about, the only words I can make out are “like right over there.” Shortly after this the track ends.
Of all the Aphex Twin tracks I have to say this one is the most electro-sounding. With its b-boy beats and Robocop samples it’s practically a tribute to the 1980s.
Heliosphan is another one of the Twin’s more uplifting tracks, while the driving breakbeat also makes it another one of his more danceable pieces.
Never fails to bring a smile to my face this one, instant good memories, good vibes… classic choon.
We Are The Music Makers is a slow head-nodder anchored by a steady, pervasive bassline and a languorous hiphop-type beat.
RDJ then starts jamming with a Fender Rhodes-alike electronic piano sound fluttering along on top.
This one it just rolls along nice and steady and as you listen all your troubles just melt away. It’s like a musical comfort blanket.
The name of this track (and vocal sample therein) comes via Gene Wilder in his unforgettable role as Willy Wonka.
I’ll never forget the moment that particular penny first dropped during a dozy, bloated xmas coma. I’d never made the Aphex Twin/Willy Wonka connection before.
The words Gene Wilder speaks are actually taken from a poem called Ode, by Arthur O’Shaughnessy, essentially a tribute to the artists and creatives, the first verse being:
“We are the music makers
And we are the dreamers of dreams
Wandering by lone sea-breakers
And sitting by desolate streams
World-losers and world-forsakers
On whom the pale moon gleams
Yet we are the movers and shakers
Of the world for ever, it seems.”
I like this poem because it reminds is that, without the dreamers and music makers (and oddballs and nutters), our world would be a horrible static and hopeless place.
Schottkey 7th Path features more of those classic Aphex pad sounds. Not sure what it is about those sounds but they always have a soothing effect on me, like a cozy duvet on a cold winter’s night.
No idea who or what a Shottkey is either or how many other paths there might be, but the seventh one is definitely a melancholy one. It also hints at a trend found in future RDJ compositions, contrasting calming melodies with more involved percussion.
Ptolemy ups the tempo and serves as a perfect upbeat counterpoint to Schottkey 7th Path. It’s got a steady 4/4 beat, a driving bassline and a snappy choral riff on top.
There’s not really much else to the track, just some variations on the beat, with various percussive and melodic elements dropping in and out.
Midway the bassline drops out and we just get drums and a solo, of sorts, with a soft pad sound… this section drifts for a while, allowing us to appreciate the soft soothing pad sound in full, before the riff and bassline return to intensify it.
What it’s got to do with an ancient Greek astronomer? Fuck all near’s I can tell.
Hedphelym is hands down the weirdest track on the album. It’s also a sign of things to come as far as future Aphex releases are concerned.
Its sonic pallet is more like its successor, Ambient Works Volume II, while its driving industrial techno beat has more in common with early Joyrex and AFX releases.
And as far as the actual melody’s concerned, this one’s a psychedelic mindfuck, twisting and folding like origami, drowning in layers of echo so each note folds in on top of the next until we don’t know where one note starts and the other begins.
As this happens notes are tuned and detuned, pitches warbling unsteadily introducing us to what will eventually grow into another one of Richard D. James’ obsessions, non-Western tuning and finickity microtonalities.
In a way this one foreshadows RDJ’s ongoing journey as he endeavours to explore the space between the notes.
After the headfuck that is Hedphelym, Delphium returns to more familiar territory; a steady four-four house-type track with a driving bass arpeggio and strings which can only be described as lush (a word RDJ’s used a lot in interviews back in the day.)
Delphium is one of the highlights for me for various reasons, the percussion, the strings…
But if I’m honest the main reason is those goosebump-inducing little splashes of 808 cowbell at the midpoint when all the other melody layers are dropped out for a while. Then just after the track reprises in its entirety.
Dunno why, I just love it, like I said I have mapped out this album’s various idiosyncrasies long ago and have come to find them all calming and reassuring.
The album ends with Actium, a track which sounds like it might be one of the older pieces on the album.
It’s also one of the tracks which possibly benefits from being recorded to cassette tape since the drums are drenched in reverb anyway and the analogue saturation helps make the bassline even more warm and fuzzy. All the while the Rhodes-like melody tinkles along on top like raindrops.
This one doesn’t feel like it was sequenced to me, or if it was, it was only partially sequenced using hardware. I can’t envision this being done on an Atari.
RDJ’s clearly jamming along in real time while stopping, pressing buttons, adding and dropping elements, occasionally stopping to drop the bassline an octave then resetting it, letting the highhats in…
At one point the bass distorts so I’m guessing his inner perfectionist decided just then cut the track short. But honestly, I could listen to this track even if it went on twice as long.
The Dreamers Of Dreams
There’s a lot of hype and mythology around this album which has only crystalised (or should that be xtalised) over the years.
The first myth tells of how RDJ was tripping balls when he signed on the dotted line, because that was the only way his friends could get him to agree to an album deal.
Having secured the deal with R&S he then asked his friends to select which tracks he should put on the album, because allegedly he didn’t seem to care care either way.
And thus began the career of Aphex Twin, piss artist.
The career of Aphex Twin musical artist was already several years in the making by this point.
Both personas then ran concurrently for decades. Richard D James the musician was more than happy to geek out and discuss technology.
Richard D James the piss artist existed as a press-repelling forcefield, using disposable identities, playing with masks and spinning yarns. That way the journos were always guaranteed to have some crazy shit to write about while RDJ could leverage the publicity and enjoy increased album sales while still keeping his personal and public personal compartmentalised.
It didn’t stop the press from being peevish about it though.
So when the follow-up album was released and it sounded completely different, many music critics and journalists savaged it.
Because they missed the point completely.
Selected Ambient Works 1 is beloved because of its authenticity and innocence, though it’s also far less complex and technically accomplished than RDJ’s later works.
The reason is right there in the album title – some of these recordings date back to when RDJ was in his early teens.
As an adult, no doubt he listens back to these with more critical ears. This is a man known for his painstaking attention to detail when it comes to sound design and OCD beat programming.
So all the little flaws I find endearing, the warbles and distortions, the hiss and the DIY live performance elements which make it sound so raw and authentic, probably make him wince.
I also imagine the mixed reception to its successor, 1994’s Ambient Works Volume 2, was a source of disappointment. He tried to go even deeper and was savaged. One minute he was the “MDMA Mozart”, next he was a pretentious poser. Ambient Works 2 would therefore be the last time RDJ attempted to do anything so thematically cohesive.
And by the time the world caught up with Ambient Works 2 and were finally able to appreciate it for what it was, he’d moved on again to fresher sonic frontiers.
Subsequent albums were far more divergent in terms of the tone and, quite often, quality of tracks. Each new release was also more complex rhythmically, for better or for worse.
Although I love a lot of the subsequent material it does often feel as though RDJ is wary of repeating a pattern for more than four bars, particularly where percussion is concerned, for fear his obsessive fanbase denounces him.
And personally I have always preferred the simpler, more minimalist tracks which give the melodies and grooves the space to breath, without the frantic micromanagement.
Which is one of the reasons I continue to hold Selected Ambient Works Volume 1 in such high esteem.
It’s hands down the most simplistic and accessible of all the Aphex Twin albums, but it’s also the least flashy. It’s the least polished, but it’s also raw and honest and not trying to impress anyone.
It’s the sound of a burgeoning talent, a teenage genius on the cusp of finding his true voice, doing what he loves and proudly proclaiming, “I don’t give a fuck what any of you think.”
Just jamming away in his family bedroom, lost in that musical trance painting pictures in his mind with melodies and wishing he could do it forever without ever needing to get a real job.
This was the album which made that dream happen. A time capsule containing the hopes and dreams of the rave generation and all our lives’ highs and lows.