It's not easy to describe Aphex Twin's revolutionary nature in words. Perhaps some of his works no longer sound novel today, but back then, you could hardly find another electronic musician who could create such sonic rhythms, completely changing the rules of the game. Even if you don't like it, you have to admit his influence on the genre. And "...I Care Because You Do," as a way station, on a blurred boundary, outlines how an artist embraces contradiction, tests possibilities, and ultimately finds his own language.
Many have long regarded this album as a transitional period in Aphex Twin's career: not as sacred as his early ambient period, nor as ferociously energetic as his later digital breakbeats. However, this "in-between" characteristic is precisely what constitutes its strength. It shows how Richard D. James dismantled and collaged elements like techno, ambient, acid, trip-hop, and drum'n'bass within the existing electronic dance music context, creating a perfect embodiment of his own spiritual core: uneasy, chaotic, insane, beautiful, and avant-garde.
Most of the tracks on "...I Care Because You Do" were created between 1990 and 1994, a period of rapid evolution for British electronic music. At that time, James had already become a genius in the eyes of fans with "Selected Ambient Works 85–92." This album brought serene ambient soundscapes into the electronic dance music scene, and its influence is still undeniable today. At the same time, he also released "Surfing on Sine Waves" under the name Polygon Window, as well as a large number of EPs and limited edition vinyl.
Against this backdrop, "...I Care Because You Do" appears both familiar and strange. On the one hand, it continues the texture of early analog synthesizers, drum machines, and tape recorders; on the other hand, it also hints at James's growing interest in computer recording. This album is often considered his last "purely analog" album, but a careful listen reveals that many sounds already have the characteristics of "digital deconstruction," such as distortion, dislocation, and excessively processed layered tracks. This ambiguous state is a microcosm of the mid-nineties electronic music scene, where no one could clearly draw boundaries between various styles.
At that time, the British media's attention to electronic music reached its peak. Bristol's Massive Attack and Portishead brought trip-hop into the mainstream; the wave of drum'n'bass was also sweeping in. But James's attitude was always maverick. He never treated techno or electronica as fixed templates, but rather as abstract concepts that could be subverted and deconstructed at any time. Mixmag once described him as "the jester in the crowd," a statement that was not derogatory but pointed out his instinct for playing with conventions and forms.
Therefore, "...I Care Because You Do" is not a dance album intended to please the market. Instead, it is more like a time capsule, recording how James repeatedly struggled between the sound field of ambient music and the rhythm of dance floor bombardment. His face was printed on the album cover for the first time, distorted and sinister, as if the self-portrait itself had become an extension of the sound. This strategy of building a personal brand on unsettling visual symbols also foreshadowed his later playful use of his own image in music videos and promotional materials.
If there is a core that runs through the album, it is a "sense of contradiction." It has both extremely violent sounds and delicate, moving melodies; it has the rhythm of the dance floor and a contemplative space for pure listening. James no longer pursued a unified aesthetic here, but used fragmentation and disharmony to create a unique kind of integrity. This technique was later magnified in "drukQs," but there it appeared more fragmented. In comparison, "...I Care Because You Do" still retains a certain cohesion.
The album's opening track, "Acrid Avid Jam Shred," is a signal. The title is an anagram of "Richard D. James." In its nearly eight-minute length, the melody is simple yet constantly circling, and the drum beats are trembling and unstable, like a slow trip-hop beat being twisted and stretched. It is in no hurry to build a climax, but slowly brings the listener into a state of suspenseful trepidation, which seems to correspond to the eerie self-portrait on the cover: you are attracted, but you also feel hesitant.
The following tracks thoroughly showcase James's split personality. "Ventolin" is said to be inspired by the tinnitus symptoms listed as side effects of asthma medication. Musically, it both invites you in and forcibly pushes you away, simulating tinnitus with sharp, piercing high-frequency white noise, coupled with a heavy, industrial-like rhythm. It sounds almost like a dentist's drill hitting the brain directly. On the dance floor, it is a violent invasion, a test of the auditory limits of the mainstream audience, until the distortion of the sound completely engulfs everything in the final stage before returning to calm.
Other tracks on the album wander between different extremes: "Come On You Slags!" under its playful title, has a bouncy breakbeat that scatters like a pinball machine against a backdrop of synthesizer tones, appearing childishly innocent amidst the bombardment; "Start as You Mean to Go On" goes to the other extreme, with intense percussion that sounds like a factory production line in busy operation, pushing the album's aggressiveness to its peak.
"Icct Hedral" creates an almost cinematic atmosphere with strings and hazy reverb, with a strong gothic color. It opens with nearly a minute of blurry, indistinct reverb, then gradually layers strings, synthesizers, and a bass that constantly expands and contracts, eventually reaching a magnificent climax. This track was later adapted into an orchestral version by Philip Glass. Although many people prefer the latter's arrangement, many fans believe the original version is more concise and powerful, avoiding the heaviness of excessive ornamentation.
On the other end, works like "Alberto Balsalm" showcase James's keen intuition for melody. Soft ambient tones and chords are overlaid on a suppressed drum'n'bass rhythm, often regarded as one of Aphex Twin's most beautiful musical pieces. The equally gentle "Next Heap With" sounds like a work from another world, with no beat, relying solely on strings and ambient sounds to slowly unfold, as if suspended outside of time, symbolizing the final transcendence after the album's constant alternation between fierceness and tenderness.
Just 18 months after the release of this album, James released the "Richard D. James Album" and the accompanying EP "Come To Daddy." The whirlwind of digital breakbeats and unstable time signatures brought him almost into contact with the mainstream world. Although the reputation of "...I Care Because You Do" as a "transitional album" will probably not change, the amazing ingenuity and boldness it displays, even when not at his best, are still more creative than most artists.
For him, without this album, there would be no subsequent explosion of digital chaos. It is like a bridge, connecting the introspection of ambient music with the ferocity of jungle and techno and placing them on the same stage. Therefore, looking back, the distorted face on the cover is a microcosm of the album itself: ugly and grotesque, yet impossible to look away from. Aphex Twin hides beauty behind layers of noise, conflict, and mischief, challenging you to see if you are willing to keep digging. And after all that has been said, perhaps it all comes down to one sentence: "…I Care Because You Do."
