As far as TikTok trends go, ‘corecore’ might be the hardest to explain or rationalise. These nihilistic and pessimistic videos amateurishly splice together unrelated clips, touching on topics such as loneliness and feeling unattractive. Some go further to explore ideas including parental neglect, capitalism and even the negative aspects of being a professional footballer.
They’re almost all soundtracked by “QKThr”, the sweetly crushing and emotional accordion track from Aphex Twin’s 2001 Drukqs album. But it’s not the only Richard D. James cut to be continually looping on the platform: “aisatsana [102]” and “#3” also soundtrack corecore videos. “Xtal” is another favourite choice for ‘fit checks and day-in-the-life compilations, while “180db_ [130]” is a popular pick for make-up looks. “Alberto Balsalm” has taken on a new lease of life with a reverb-drenched fart edit. Many users post explainers of the producer’s history and lore, while others bake bread with Aphex logos on it, use his tracks to upload Adam Curtis-style documentary footage, or produce Chief Keef mashups.
Gen Z, it would seem, are big Aphex heads. Tiarna, who is 23 and from London, first discovered his music through watching an old runway show: AW12 Dior Haute Couture, where Raf Simons used the songs “Jynweythek” and “Windowlicker”. “It’s my go-to music to consume passively, I wrote my entire dissertation with Aphex on repeat,” they say. That interest was compounded by “a recognition of how pivotal his work really is,” they explain. “You know, he pioneered an entirely unknown experimental sound. I can recognise how that influence is so crucial for other artists’ work and the entire genre of ambient music and beyond.”
But why has Aphex’s music struck such a chord with younger audiences on the platform, beyond the plainly obvious ‘his music is good’? Often sweetly downcast, sombre and nostalgic, Aphex’s sound has a contemplative quality which – when you’re learning who you are and figuring out life – is pretty potent. “Because a lot of his music is ambient or mood music, it works sped-up or slowed down, as people tend to do on [TikTok],” suggests Beau Waddell, a 17-year-old author who has just published a book on Aphex Twin. “His music is quite versatile, so it appeals to a lot of different people.”
For a hyper-online generation forced to digitise their lives, could Aphex Twin’s infamous reclusiveness and refusal to play the social media promo game also be part of the appeal? “Even now with his new single he’s got a new, distorted version of his face,” says Beau, referencing “Blackbox Life Recorder 21f”, the Cornish artist’s first new music in five years, and the jarring images of his face, squashed and cube-like, that accompany it. “He’s trying to go against the idea that [music] should be faceless because there is a face, and he’s proud to show that. But it’s also mysterious at the same time, so it’s never fully a picture of him – there’s always something wrong with it.”
Gen Z is known for its absurdist humour, which some see as the byproduct of an uncertain, crisis-filled future. Take the latest Grimace shake trend, where TikTokers make mini horror movies out of sipping the purple drink, for example. A renowned trickster, Aphex Twin has continually trolled his fans and pranked journalists with similarly dark, gallows humour (see also: the nightmarish video for “Come To Daddy”). “Although I think memes have helped [Aphex] stay popular in recent times, I think his branding has always meshed well with internet humour,” says Sarah, a 25-year-old elder Gen Z and Aphex fan based in Montreal. “Superimposing his face onto people where it doesn’t belong, for example.”
The explosion of PC Music and hyperpop could be linked to younger audiences getting into Aphex’s music, with pathways such as A. G. Cook’s cover of “Windowlicker”. Drum & bass is also huge among late teen audiences, and Aphex’s frenzied drum programming has always seen him orbiting that genre. Sarah adds that there’s been a shift in how Gen Z approach music, saying they embrace it “seemingly equally” and “without judgement” – there simply isn’t the tribalism that there once was, thanks to the internet’s democratisation and near-evisceration of localised scenes. “It feels like Richard is just filling a void that can’t be replaced by anyone new since we’re in this weird place culturally where no one can achieve star power the way they did in the 20th century”.
Another important shift, Sarah thinks, is that there isn’t any “distinctive pop culture or an underground any more”, which has led her to feel “increasingly distant from anything and anyone that defines itself as ‘underground’ or ‘mainstream’”. “Everything is accessible now, so why do these labels matter?” she adds. You can see that overlap in current pop culture and fashion, which is currently rife with Aphex references: Rosalía and Peggy Gou were recently snapped in Richard D. James-adorned outfits, while Yoon Ahn’s Ambush label took direct inspiration from Aphex for its Autumn 2023 collection, and Sports Banger unveiled an Aphex Hello Kitty hybrid tee. “Aphex Twin T-shirt is the new Unknown Pleasures T-shirt,” a recent tweet reads, nodding to the ubiquitous Joy Division design and a similar blurring of mainstream and underground.
Although clumping a whole demographic together is impossible, there’s a stereotype of Gen Z rejecting authority and the status quo. Which has seen them actively moving away from more commercial music and seeking out more complex, challenging sounds – Aphex’s art will always have that outsider appeal, even if it’s widely known. Some have suggested that his music particularly appeals to those who are neurodivergent, and Gen Z are much more tapped into these attributes. Others say Aphex’s music has similarities to the video game sounds they grew up on.
Although some of his music came out three decades ago, Aphex Twin has kept himself at the forefront of electronic music. As recent DJ sets and selfies with Arca prove, he’s very much on the pulse in terms of new sounds, genres and styles. But, as with most music that’s considered ‘cool’, there’s always somebody who want to gatekeep it. Waddell’s book, Aphex Twin: Every Album, Every Song, is an in-depth analysis of the producer’s vast back catalogue. When news of the Watford-based writer’s release emerged, one contributor to The Wire wondered whether it was a prank: “Hate to judge a book by the age of its author, but really? … Something smells funny here.”
Beau Waddell says that he’s found people questioning whether he’s too young to have written a book on an artist who was prolific in the 90s and 00s. “It feels like a redundant argument to me, because that’s like someone writing about The Beatles and not being alive when they were around, saying that they couldn’t do that. I think everyone should be able to get into Aphex Twin, no matter their entry point… even if it is through TikTok.”