Aphex Twin - Windowlicker (Director's cut)

Artist	Aphex Twin
Song	Windowlicker (Director's cut)
Album	Windowlicker EP
Director	Chris Cunningham
Director of Photography	James Hawkinson
Music	Richard D. James
Editor	Chris Cunningham
Genre	Electronica (Techno, Ambient, Jungle,...)
Intro	Yes
Outro	Yes
Production Company	Black Dog Films(Cinday Burnay), Rob Machett(Executive), Steve Beckett(Executive)
Choreography	Vincent Patterson
Costumes	Danielle King
FX Makeup	Paul Calling (Character masks sculpted by)
Intro runtime	4:22
Location Manager	Michelle Latham
Outro runtime	0:50
Publishing	Warp
Runtime	5:21
Runtime	10:33
Set Location	Los Angeles, California, USA Santa Monica Beach, California, USA
Sound Mix	Stereo
Technical Specifications	colour - format unknown
VFX Company	Glassworks
VFX Supervisor	Chris Cunningham, Pasi Johansson(Flame Operator), Sally Mattinson(Glassworks Producer)
Release date

Wiki

Plot Summary

Two men spend an extended Los Angeles roadside encounter trying—and failing—to impress two women. Their routine is interrupted by an absurdly elongated limousine carrying a grotesquely grinning, extravagantly wealthy version of Aphex Twin. Richard D. James emerges, dances with an Aphex-branded umbrella, and effortlessly attracts the women, whose faces later transform into exaggerated versions of his own. The action moves to a surreal beach party, where champagne, synchronized dancing, and one particularly disturbing buck-toothed revelation turn a familiar R&B-video fantasy into grotesque comedy.

Factoids & Trivia

Chris Cunningham directed the video, following his work on Aphex Twin’s “Come to Daddy.” He also created the single’s cover artwork, making the two releases part of the same grotesque visual universe.

Cunningham conceived the clip as an attempt to place Aphex Twin inside the visual language of late-1990s American hip-hop and R&B videos. The sunny Los Angeles setting, flashy limousine, male posturing, scantily dressed dancers, and choreographed beach finale all imitate that format—before the director’s surrealism takes it apart.

Cunningham said the video was intended as an affectionate parody rather than an attack on hip-hop. He acknowledged that the result was deliberately sexist in its exaggeration, while rejecting the criticism that it was intended to be racist. "It's not racist! It is sexist, but it's a piss-take of R&B videos which are all sexist. You can't take a piss without exaggerating." The controversy remains part of the video’s legacy because its satire reproduces many of the stereotypes it is trying to mock.

The faces on the dancers were not simply created by digitally morphing Richard James onto their bodies. The production used specially designed masks, makeup, and prosthetic work; the masks were fabricated by Amalgamated Dynamics, with sculpting and makeup contributions from Paul Catling and Jordu Schell.

The dancers’ end-credit names—“hoochies”—are another deliberate piece of genre parody. The men are identified as “homies,” while the women’s transformation into Aphex-like figures turns the usual music-video hierarchy inside out: the women are visually absorbed into the star’s identity rather than remaining anonymous accessories.

The limousine was built as an intentionally ridiculous prop rather than a normal stretch vehicle. Its extreme length becomes a visual joke in itself, taking long enough to pass through the frame that the men’s attempted seduction is completely overwhelmed before the musical section even begins.

The opening dialogue is unusually long for a music video and functions almost like a short comedy sketch. Because of its heavy profanity, broadcasters commonly used censored versions, removed the dialogue altogether, or restricted the full clip to nighttime programming.

The beach sequence’s choreography was handled by Vincent Paterson, whose credits include major pop and dance productions. The polished group routines provide a deliberately conventional surface, making the grotesque masks and James’s fixed grin even more unsettling.

The final monster-like face is based on imagery associated with Swiss artist H. R. Giger. Giger later produced a drawing titled “The Windowlickers,” extending the video’s visual concept beyond the screen.

“Windowlicker” was nominated for Best British Video at the 2000 BRIT Awards. The clip’s combination of expensive-looking pop spectacle, crude comedy, body horror, and electronic music helped establish it as one of the defining music videos of the 1990s.