Contrary to the album’s name, Richard abstains from direct Eno worship, instead turning the thumping sounds of techno and inventing something very distant, more head-driven than hip-driven. By wrapping derelict atmospheres in the sheath of techno beats, the individual experiences that sculpt SAW are like stepping into different rooms of a recently-abandoned warehouse, each painted with a different pastel and haunted with the remnants of human life. Not to say that the music here is lifeless; nearly 30 years removed from initial impact it may now seem rudimentary, though back in ‘92, alongside similar releases from the Orb and Biosphere, Aphex was inventing new viscera from the bones of dance music.

But further branching off from this inward-looking arm of his work, there is a particular soft face to the much-fabled man. A tiny world of prepared piano, caressing melodies, and sweet emotion that truly tells of his full range and aural prowess. Though Richard is known to be a maverick, the sparks of this intangible energy of his are what completes him.

Chronologically, the first hints of it appear on the interlude-length ‘i’, one of the earliest compositions he’s released, being as young as 14 if going by the recording dates woven into his debut album’s title. Early experience with creating audio programs and being a resident DJ developed his skills to produce something so refined and matured, it was almost like what he was doing was nothing new. The type of timelessness that feels like the dust and smoke surrounding it is there from laying dormant for thousands of years, and songs like ‘i’ are the most potent examples of that, flowing as naturally as the wind itself. Standing abstractly with distant synthesisers, it pops out of the tracklist as one of the only moments breathing as true-blue ambient.

Continuing to hone on softer ground on the post-SAW single, ‘On’, he guises synths and keys that sound ripped from SAW underneath the kind of abrasive production seen on later works, acting as a bridge between two worlds. But despite opening up his discography with more meditative works, these were only flashes of James’ most eloquent side compared to what appeared in 1995's I Care Because You Do. Holding potential to be the black sheep of his album library, on the project he runs a defective laboratory that tags its subjects with anagram variants of his name. He tests out more carbonated sounds (‘Start As You Mean to Go On’), clunkier percussion styles (‘Cow Cud Is a Twin’) and the very frequencies of the human ear, for better or worse (word to ‘Ventolin’). I Care is not his most identifiable album - unless the criteria is the cover art - nor the most accessible but it still firmly holds its place as a wildly versatile ground that bred freakish, and at times grippingly dangerous, concepts.

Deep within the foul swamp of this experimental ecosystem, however, hides a silky trip-hop emerald: 'Alberto Balsalm'. The track glides like a river, obtaining momentum from the deep, gravitating synthesisers. Carrying along with it a careful beat that sounds disarmingly organic, the shampoo-referencing song erodes any palpitations with splashes of metallic drum fills. In the asphalt jungle that is his musical archive, ‘Alberto Balsalm’ sits in the suburbs as a track brick-laid from completely foreign elements, yet comes together stunningly to finish off a very Gothic sonic hovel.

This tendency for advancing his sound flowed into his manic descent into drill ‘n’ bass, the Come To Daddy EP. Like mixing the contents of Aphex Twin’s fridge into a singular entity, it’s a project that ranges anywhere from unnerving to mortifying. Drum hits spray out amongst the fray of synth sequences that unsettle; it should be no surprise that the disc was released in anticipation for October’s spooky season, but hidden in the forbidden forest are brief moments of bliss. Following the gruesome industrial display of the title track, 'Flim' juxtaposes nimble percussion with glass piano twinkles, while the just-as-optimistic 'IZ-US' again pulls from the trip-hop world for its steadily rustling drums.

On another key short release during the period - the ‘Windowlicker’ single - is a B-side whose title is an impenetrable mathematical formula, as well as the dainty appendix that is ‘Nannou’. Dedicated to his girlfriend, it plays like a music box rendition of a contemporary, D&B-style Twin cut. However, before a contemporary Twin cut was drill ‘n’ bass, he constructed his largest holistic environment ever. Two years after Selected Ambient Works 85-92, he saw fit to succeed it. Yet instead of visiting ambience to bring some of its characteristics back to techno, James upped sticks and moved there, opening himself up to explore the sonics of nature and from it, luring out his soft side.