The Artificial Era is upon us, and there's no better source than Michael Ferentino's Bedtime Robots to deliver it.
I reviewed one of the album's seventeen tracks, "Godliness," in June: a marvelous submission, which Ferentino concocted with Grimes A.I. Its Philip K. Dick/Blade Runner vibe is inarguable, and such characterizes the entirety of Bedtime for Robots' newest queue, in particular the sleek "Godliness Smae Remix". (Roy Batty and Pris would definitely get down to this.)
Perhaps the next nearest to capturing the Vangelis mode is "Former Star," which implies dancing androids in a revived, disco bar. It also alludes to a desperate chase, perhaps with Rick Deckard on the lam to secure unrequited peace.
From there, the title track, "Artificial Era," welcomes the listener to a slow, sweet crawl. It's fidgety but melodious, calculating yet amicable. It's a tune for love making, if one by chance owns a Cherry 2000, and in the future, who won't?
"Normal," which uses fortifying, Love in Reverse accompaniment, drives a neat, shuffling beat: robotic like the album's other entries, but with "Simon says" demands. Ferentino's vocals are more than apt here, drilling away a Devo chant, but one that's a whole lot deeper (creamier) than one might expect.
"Wu Wei" acts an "Artificial Era" sequel, with squishy sounds and grinding, mechanical gears, projecting robotic acrobatics set to a frisky, Space Age jam.
If "Wu Wei" is implied sex, then "Jorogumo" is pure wildness. To rephrase, it's jungle-like, spurring android beasts in an electric, safari park, where drums and bells clang in lieu of snarls and roars. It's fun (maybe even a little silly), but on the other side of the coin, pent-up feral and as such, threatening and thrilling.
After "Jorogumo'"s unbridled gyration, one must "Play Nice," as Love in Reverse revisits. Ferentino's vocals compel one to comply with the opposition: that means one should never snatch the fruit that falls from a high-tech sky.
All the same, to achieve such a snatch (to even consider it) would be akin to a "Sensational Manifestation," which spews an anticipating verve, with a brush of eerie, Tangerine Dream unrest. It could be music for Frankenstein's lab or an assembly line in wait of Terminator construction. Either way, "Sensational Manifestation" is nothing short of aspirational great.
But "Hive Mind" carries the ambitious concept even further. Through its pinball-machine implications, it's easy to consider a Dalek or Borg invasion: cyborg linked to cyborg, preparing for an all-consuming assimilation.
"Scented" returns the listener to an amorous crevasse. The Tangerine Dream aroma returns, too, with maybe some John Carpenter and Neil Norman sprayed on top, forging a long, fumed passage to a place where only replicants roam.
At this point, one might feel a "Cool Hammer" strike one's brow. For this symbolic gesture, Ferentino croons it up big time, defining (and defying) the threat behind all mechanized fears. As such, his cog-sprung hammer does its job well, with an infectious trail that (if allowed) could buzz about one's ears for hours on end.
Of course, for all the hammering, there's joyous "Release," and it comes in a composition that sports a comparable thrust, but deploys it within a Miami Vice scope, where flesh and steel converse on a transplanted beach.
In contrast, "Grok" rekindles unabashed, primitive urges (a second "Jorogumo," if one will). It skids along (hops and chirps) like the grimy, lost youths of Logan's Run: rebellious and sequestered, but like rats to a catcher, bound to be caught, unless they dare venture into (drumroll, please)...
..."The Other Side," where contention ensues. It's a spy-like Peter Gunn, with a guitar twang that snaps like a rubber band amid wires, circuits and impassioned cries. It's robot versus robot, man against machine, questioning the rights of all cognitive things, though with no differentiation made.
I like to think that "Beatrice" is the result of such debate: a new and improved Cherry brand, but one designed not for lust, but compassion. This track is reminiscent of Whitman and/or Bradbury's "I Sing the Body Electric," establishing a purchased homebody who cooks, cleans...cares.
If "Beatrice" is intrinsic and warm, so is "The Melting Sky," which generates a Holodeck reverie: a placating, electronic bath or whatever a frustrated soul can conjure (salvation served at special request).
For "Voyeur of Ghosts" (the album's finale), the computerized component takes matters to a new frontier, with a militant march that sounds divine yet jingoistic at the same time. In this instance, Ferentino's vocals forge a prayer, a plea, a meditative closure that sees beyond accepted existence, beyond the forest and the trees, into the fabricated heart and soul of (un)humanity.
Artificial Era is an exclamation for the revisionist age upon us, albeit in its infancy, but growing ever stronger by the day. Ferentino, through Bedtime for Robots (and dear ol' Love in Reverse), paints a perfect picture that's at once counterfeit, but no less real.
Join the A.I. evolution at
https://open.spotify.com/album/1aewJubXvL2C3nKe89wozR?si=KYCVz9CbQhCqBPB13mfTsg&fbclid=IwAR2i7U8exXaCb9LZYO66Le5DTPU72pL8WUOdSwaLYnEmXT_3Q5TAoS_ryss&nd=1
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