tuesdays robot by tuesdays robot

If ACTUAL robots pretending to be human (y’know my faves to pick on, the Britneys, Whitneys and Shanias of the world) can do their thing, why can’t a couple of red-blooded, fucked-up, wild-eyed humans pretend to be robots and androids? AHHHGGHH!! It’s sometimes all too much to bear … must … get … to … stereo … turn tunes up … LOUD!!

Ahhh … that’s better, eh? Now I can’t hear anything but the dulcet strains of Tuesday’s Robot and the comforting crackle of my about-to-shit-out-on-me left speaker. I feel at home, even if the walls of this particular waiting room are a bit sterile and cold at first contact. Ohhh! THAT’S why the band wanted to have “Another Cup Of Tea ...” Throw in some Xanax an’ a few mg’s of opiates an’ you’ve got a deal, Lucille. What’s your aura, Dora? Oops, gettin’ off track again, gonna start the lead cut over …

“Another Cup Of Tea” is an in-your-face, no-bullshit love ditty, Robot comin’ off like ‘65-era Dylan with a few guarded Roger McGuinn-isms and more than a spoonful of glittery ‘70s pop attitude thrown in for good measure. Bottom line, it’s a catchy, powerful intro to an album that I really, really, really wanted to hate at first sight. Nothing personal, I was just afeared that ol’ humor schtick was fixin’ to wallop me over the head again … no worries, Robot and Android may have overactive imaginations when it comes to presenting their work, but that work is viable, professional, REAL, and more human than human.

“And Then There Was Ruth,” my personal fave, is a spine-tingling, goose-flesh-inducing wamma-jamma of a love song, fired by Grain Belt an’ held together loosely by spit, rust and scabs torn from heart-shaped chest wounds. “Constitution Blues” lives up to the innuendo in its name, in every possible way, right down to the castigation of Guantanamo Bay, Bible-thumpers (“… some people don’t read it the same/ Well, they’re killin’ in Jesus’ name …”), television, prejudice, homophobia, mindless violence, needless cruelty, greed an’ a slew of other modern-day blights on society. The music is visceral, haunting and complex on one level, airy, light and deceptively simple on another—a further clue that these ain’t yer average white-boy blues monkeys, thank Christ, Buddha, Mohammed or any other long-dead male godhead figures currently tuned in to Radio HMAN up there in the ol’ cosmos …

They’re all good, solid songs, but I’d be remiss to not give a bit of ink to the nine-and-a-half-minute opus “Xmas Day Revisited” (I, as well, enjoy revisiting things, especially in music, and, well, how could you POSSIBLY emulate Bob Dylan without (A) Covering the three main points of this track—it’s almost 10 minutes long, contains original, socially-aware content, and of course, revisits that ol’ “revisiting” thang—and (B), Singin’ through yer nose?), which at first listen seems almost impenetrable but soon morphs into a riveting bedside horror story retold for the umpteenth time but somehow different, new, exciting and strange …

Naw, it don’t matter. It’s not really like a Dylan song other than those points—and the fact that, thanks to Bob himself, I’ll always hear echoes of his work in this style and presentation. Is it a good tune? Yeah, it is. Will I play it over an’ over? Naw. Not anymore than I do “Sad-Eyed Lady Of The Low-Lands” (she gets pulled outta her vinyl nightie once or twice a year, given a randy toss in the old hay and carefully returned to her cardboard nest) or the double-edged sword that is Roger Hodgson’s “Sleeping With The Enemy.” Either way, I am genuinely glad I heard it: I’ll use it on a few Xmas mix CDs next year, and you can decide for yourselves if you wanna jam it in yer space or not.

When all is said and done, it

doesn’t really matter whether this album and these songs were penned 40 years ago or last week, or if the writer is Jewish or Christian, or Republican or Democrat, male or female, gay or straight, or if they’re black or white, or if they really know what “The Blues” is any more than I or anybody else really do, or if they’re rich kids or wrong side of the track-ers, sinners or saints, poets, prophets or madmen. I have fun imagining they’re all of the above at different sections of the album.

What matters here is that this music is REAL, universal, honest, frank, forthright, fun, challenging, and leaves the listener with not only a sense of contentment and well-being, but also leaves a goodly portion of its lyrical wealth ensconced in his or her noggin, to be used at a later date. That’s Tuesday’s Robot. Sell by … as soon as humanly possible. Check ‘em out at www.tuesdaysrobot.com.

There’s the rub for this week, friends, knee-knockers, back-stabbers, monkey-backers, an’ slap-happy, dirty faced barn-burners … tune in again next time out for more of the same. Until then—make yer own damn news.

If you have local music gigs/events/CDs you’d like to see mentioned in this space, or you just have to share your own personal robot/android fantasy, send replies to: Tmygunn77764@yahoo.com. ||

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