ByteNoise

Analogue Bubblebath 3

Analogue Bubblebath 3
Analogue Bubblebath 3

Artist AFX
Label Rephlex
Year 1993

The first track, the aptly named .215061, is made up of frantic synth drums, chord stabs and a bubbling bassline. Towards the very end a bittersweet lead melody is introduced, albeit arguably far too late in the song to really get going. It seems as if, had the track featured less intro and more lead melody, it could have progressed into a much better piece.

.1993841 simply consists of eerie pads and synthesiser percussion. Both of these feature strange, alien timbres, and are likely custom patches. The overall feel is appropriately unsettling.

.942937 features beautiful, shimmering pads, and more custom synthesiser percussion. It's a good example of James's fondness for juxtaposing the sublime with the harsh, and works better than it seems like it should, given that the vibes of these two parts are somewhat contradictory. Contrast this with .1993841, or The Garden of Linmiri, which combines scary pads with harsh drums for a more unified and cohesive effect.

.000890569 is pretty similar to the first track, in as much as both seem designed to fill a dancefloor.

CAT 00897-AA1 is another showcase of beautiful, shimmering pads and custom drums. This time, they're joined by the use of white noise as an instrument in its own right, and a xylophone (or at least an approximation of one). A xylophone is also used in Jelly Fish and Redruth School, probably recorded the same year, whereas white noise makes a reappearance in Batine Acid over a decade later. Outside of James's work, both of these instruments seem vastly underrepresented in popular music. Given the popularity of rock music in particular, the sustain on electric guitars, and the lack of it on acoustic drums, it's all too easy for many musicians to forget entirely that noise can be sustained and pitched instruments can be percussive. By coming at music from an electronic (and occasionally orchestral) angle, James has eschewed such limitations of conventional instrumentation. (Covering the electronic classic Popcorn probably helped.) Despite what you might imagine, the white noise doesn't sound at all harsh, and all the elements work together towards a cohesive emotional whole, this time another beautiful one rather than a scary one.

Track eleven features ominous, scary pads along with intermittent, unpredictable enharmonic synth noises. It would appear that these are entirely unrelated to each other, except for the fact that in combination they heighten the listener's unease. Again, the result works much better than it might seem from a mere description. Listening to this track, it sounds like it either paves the way for Selected Ambient Works Volume II, or was perhaps recorded in the same sessions, and prematurely released before James had decided to release the whole album. At any rate, it would sound much more at home there than on this release.

Using these earlier releases to gain insight into James's later work, it's clear that his unique vision stems from his origins, which seem to indicate that he started making music almost from first principles, ignoring much of the collective wisdom of the rest of the culture. What's most telling is the flat out absence of verse/chorus structures and lead melodies, in favour of enthusiastic experimentation with rhythms, harmonies, and most of all, the timbres themselves.

Already, Analogue Bubblebath 3 starts to show patterns emerging in James's taste: the use of soft pads to impart either a warm, glowing beauty or outright fear; pairing these with homebrewed synth drum sounds, especially harsh ones; and as a result, combining the serene and the abrasive in a unique manner. At this point, the main things holding him back are the lack of structure in his arrangements, and the lack of actual melodies, both of which he later masters with Melodies From Mars.