Aphex Twin – Selected Ambient Works Volume II (1994)
By Rafi Mercer
It begins not with a beat but with an atmosphere. A low hum, a shimmer of tone, the sense of space expanding in all directions. There is no rhythm to grasp, no melody to follow, just sound unfolding like mist. This is the world of Selected Ambient Works Volume II, released in 1994 by Richard D. James under his Aphex Twin name, an album that stretched the definition of ambient into something uncanny, unsettling, and unforgettable. Where his earlier Selected Ambient Works 85–92 was rooted in dancefloor pulse and rave euphoria, this second volume stripped away rhythm almost entirely, leaving only texture, resonance, and mood. The result was divisive, confounding many listeners, but for those willing to inhabit it, the record became a masterpiece of deep listening.
James has always been an enigmatic figure, equal parts recluse and provocateur, equally at home crafting club anthems or unsettling noise experiments. With Volume II, he presented a set of 23 untitled tracks (later identified only by images in the liner notes) that resisted categorisation. Inspired, he claimed, by lucid dreams, the pieces feel less composed than conjured. They do not develop in the way songs do; they hover, they unfold, they shift imperceptibly, as though you are listening to weather rather than music.
Some tracks are luminous, built from glowing synth chords that seem to hang in the air forever. Others are darker, filled with dissonant drones, metallic clangs, textures that suggest unease. A few hint at melody, fragile figures repeating like half-remembered lullabies. None of them resolve. They simply exist, each a sound-world unto itself, an environment to enter and to leave when you choose. It is music that resists narrative, resists time, resists the need to move forward.
On vinyl, the experience is heightened. The analogue warmth softens the digital edges, the surface noise becoming part of the haze. Each side is a landscape, each track a plateau to explore. Played in a listening bar, the album transforms space. The brighter tracks create stillness, conversation falling away as people lean into the glow. The darker tracks fill the air with tension, the room becoming charged, expectant. Together they create a journey that is less about progression than about immersion, less about movement than about presence.
What makes Volume II endure is its refusal to compromise. James did not provide easy entry points, did not concern himself with accessibility. Instead he offered a world and trusted listeners to find their way. That trust has paid off. Three decades on, the record is considered a landmark, not only in ambient music but in electronic music more broadly. It has influenced generations of artists, from minimal techno producers to sound artists, from film composers to experimentalists. Yet despite its influence, it remains singular, unmistakably Aphex Twin.
There is a strangeness here that cannot be explained, only felt. The music is not comforting, not decorative, not background in the usual sense. It unsettles even as it consoles, it hovers at the edge of beauty and disquiet. Drop the needle and you are not transported to a place you recognise; you are taken somewhere else entirely, somewhere dreamlike, shifting, half-lit. It is music that demands patience, openness, surrender. And in that surrender lies its power.
Rafi Mercer writes about the spaces where music matters. For more stories from Tracks & Tales, subscribe, or click here to read more.
