“Able Machines” Go Rogue
“Mors certa, vita incerta”
The science fiction novel Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep? was first published in 1968. Set in a post-apocalyptic San Francisco, the dystopian novel focused on the nature of humanity and the ethics of technology. For those not of the literary persuasion, in 1982 the novel was popularized under another title — Blade Runner. In both the movie and the novel, the lead character, Rick Deckard, hunts rogue androids. In his hunt, the reader/moviegoer is brought to question if Deckard himself is an android or simply a compassionate human in a darker world. This subtle struggle infuses beauty into Dick’s written word and, by proxy, Ridley Scott’s cinematography. Would the beauty of wildlife mean more if you were staring at the last known owl in the world? Would you care about a robot who learned in its lifetime the nature of love? How much more would it mean to you to be “real” if the option of being an Android meant you were “artificial”.
Blade Runner brought with its groundbreaking “cyberpunk” realism, a heart-wrenching soundtrack supplied by Vangelis. The synth-driven futurescape was a character. Like the battle of humanity and android, those who watched the film questioned if they were attached to Deckard and the others or if they were lead to certain emotions by the film score. Darkness wrestles light, neither ever winning, just gently dancing into eternity.
On this esteemed foundation is built the palace of Able Machines. The electro-pop duo comprised of songwriter/producer Linus Dotson and singer/songwriter/actress Tay Côlieé, released their album Pathological on April 23, 2021. In its’ lyricism and accompanying music videos, the question of what is real and artificial in life is brought sharply into focus.
Take for instance the lyrics of “Selfmachine”:
Lonely robot in a wasteland
Rusting in a lonely harbor
Lonely robot in a wasteland
Rusting in the harbor’s water
I’m not a human if you say I’m not
I’m not a human if my hinges lock
And this motor that you call my heart
Is another machine that won’t stopAnd the impression of my selfmachine
The word was spoken and it was foreseen
Are we two worlds apart or in between?
A pixel lost on the computer screen
And again in the lyrics of “Picture the End”:
We’re not gonna feel this way forever
We’re not living in a movie
And I don’t even wanna pretend
That you and I could ever be together
’Cause I picture the end — the end
And I — I don’t even wanna beginYou know it’s just a temporary thing
We look good in the frame but the color always fades away
Let’s not wait for what the future brings
You’re gonna hate me tomorrow so I don’t wanna waste today
Listen baby when I say
Like Vangelis, Able Machines excel in developing intricate, synth-led electronic soundscapes. What sets them apart is their ability to layer Dotson’s shadowed lyrical imagery and pop sensibility on top. Côlieé’s vocals are sublime. Like the cinematography of Scott, the light of her clear, enunciated voice pierces and wrestles the darkness of lost love, neglect, and relationship ambiguity.
Pathological is a breathtaking auditory achievement. Mixed largely by Seth Earnest and mastered by Paul Logus, it balances pure synth atmospherics (“Pathological 0”, “Anticipation”, “Mannequin”, “Pathological 1”) with flights of electronic ballad (“Narcissist”, “Picture the End”, “Hope It Hurts (Blueprint)”) and concussive beat-driven dancescape (“Secrets and Lies”, “Can You Keep a Secret”, “Intentions”, “SelfMachine”). Instead of Deckard hunting and destroying Androids, Côlieé vocally and visually takes the point, hunts, and destroys the suiters of relationships past. It wraps nostalgic musical nods, technical innovation, and vocal purity into a fun, cohesive package worthy of binging on repeat.
