Jeremy Boyle
Songs from the Guitar Solos
[Southern]
Rating: 3.0
Inspired by the highly- advanced Millennial state we exist in today, I
thought it would be wise to try and embrace space-age technology. Just
yesterday I emptied my IRA retirement account and purchased a domestic
robot. It's an Electronic Jeeves model A-OK2000. (I'm from Texas, and I've
got still connections to them good 'ol boys down at NASA, see.) Much to my
surprise, this Electronic Jeeves is a jolly and very obedient box of circuits
that enjoys listening to, not surprisingly, lots of electronic and ambient
trance. In fact, the ol' metalhead has already formed some basic thoughts on
his favorite musical genres. Unfortunately, his hardheaded old master isn't
too sold on the idea that ambient trance and electronic are legitimate forms
of music. Then again, I'm always willing to have an open mind about such
tuneless crap. Oh, here comes 'ol Jeevsy now...
Me: "So, Jeeves, what do you make of Jeremy Boyle's Songs from the Guitar
Solos? The track titles read as follows: 'Kiss' 'Van Halen,' 'Sabbath,'
'AC/DC' 'Zeppelin,' and 'Jimi.' Funny, I find that the composition sprung
from the mysterious 'Kiss' solo (or solos, as the case may be) sounds much
like the 'Sabbath' composition. 'AC/DC' sounds, oddly enough, similar to
'Zeppelin.' And 'Zeppelin' bears a certain likeness to both the 'Jimi' and
'Van Halen' pieces.
"What I'm trying to say is that, except in certain odd instances, each track
sounds like every other track. True, I've always suspected there was no
significant underlying difference between Van Halen, Led Zeppelin, Jimi Hendrix,
Black Sabbath, AC/DC and Kiss. Even so, my sad literal mind was still hoping to
catch even a slightly overt reference to something resembling a guitar solo.
What I hear are simply somnolent background atmospherics, and the ghostly sounds
of negation and nothingness. I guess I have neither the necessary perceptive
tools nor the Gandhi-like patience to solve these nebulous ambient riddles.
What dost thou sayeth, Jeevsy old boy?"
Jeeves the Domestic Robot: "Well, he's entitled the work Songs from the
Guitar Solos, which, I'm sure you'll agree, doesn't necessarily promise
you'll hear any actual solos, you crass simpleton. What he's done is
deconstructed and rearranged certain elements from divergent rock solos into
near-orchestral, sonorous ambient movements. True, all the pieces are
thematically similar, yet each is distinguished by a discernible structural
undertow that is very much its own."
Me: "What exactly are the differing structural undercurrents that give each
song its undeniable individuality here?"
Jeeves the Domestic Robot: "Ah, can't compute that just now. I'm not sure,
actually. Ask again later. Let's move to another topic, shall we? How about
a game of 'Tetris,' sir?"
Me: "I must be true to my human emotions and feelings, Jeeves. The lack of
contrast the non-rhythmic foundations and blatant non-musicality exhibited
by these solo-based sonic manipulations all conspire to fill me with existential
dread, not to mention crushing anxiety. They make my epiglottis itch, too."
Jeeves the Domestic Robot: "Musicality? Are you kidding? Simply by virtue of
declaring his album an 'ambient' or 'electronic' product, Boyle circumvents
any danger of being deemed musically fraudulent by the average homogamies
rock critic. Also, if you'd done your research, you'd see that his full-time
job is playing in Joan of Arc. As plagued by bad reviews as that band is,
it's easy to see why Boyle chose such a genre for his solo record. And spare
me this elitist 'I have feelings and a heart' humanistic garbage. Trusting your
primal emotions and feelings will always prevent you from experiencing the
mechanistic joys of pure bogus pseudo-intellectual exercise.
"Boyle's Songs from the Guitar Solos, my flesh- encased friend, is the
product of a much more advanced mode of conceptual thought than most limited
human brains are capable of. Boyle's compositional approach is much like taking
a piece of Silly Putty to the black newsprint of a Sunday comic. Once the comic's
impression has been successfully transferred to the surface of the silly putty,
one may stretch it, elongate it, and mold it into something that, compositionally
and substantially, remains the same, yet is in an advanced, post-structural state
of distortion, as well as being very oddly-shaped. It's all too much for the lay
human mind to process. Boyle is also obviously a great student of the dialtone--
which, by the way, is the only truly worthwhile musical innovation the human race
has ever stumbled across. By the way, all this talk about Silly Putty has made me
crave a scrumptious piece of Silly Putty between two fresh floppy disks. And please
fix me a glass of WD40 and water."
Me: "Well, wait. Then what's the real value of such a radical silly putty-ish
stretching, distorting or reinterpreting of otherwise conventional rock music?"
Jeeves the Domestic Robot: "Like Mr. Boyle, we robots must scramble and reshape
outdated human constructs, particularly in the realm of music. This sort of ambient
trance near-music puts humans in a state of prolonged introverted stasis. It renders
them soulless and volitionless, so as to be easily manipulated. It gives us robots
strength and inspiration to embrace and fulfill our technological Manifest Destiny.
Robotic universality is key. And the rampant uniformity off all cultural stimuli will
lead to uniformity of life for everyone-- humans and robots alike. Soon, all music
will sound like Comrade Boyle's compositions. He is one of us.
"And, no, the historical archives will not go untouched by our metal digits. We will
destroy all recordings of conventional melody-based human music and revise musical and
cultural history to fit the robotic paradigm. We won't stop until every piece of music
since the dawn of time is recreated to sound like the insistent monotonous hum of Jeremy
Boyle's anti-musical LP. Boyle has fashioned the Rosetta Stone of the free-floating,
formless repetition that will eventually serve to perpetually stabilize the auditory
pseudo-pleasure of both robots and humans alike. Then the world will truly be as one.
Music, being the international language that it is, is a good place to begin subverting
and overthrowing human diversity and selfish, superfluous individuality."
Me: "So, using the building blocks of nothing more than Boyle's Songs from the Guitar
Solos, you and your wired brethren will create a universal state of robotically-
revised sameness, wherein all humans are eventually coerced into accepting this android-
governed, techno-based totalitarian state of music?"
Jeeves the Domestic Robot: "You make that sound like a bad thing."
Me: "But you're just an Electronic Jeeves model A-OK2000. I bought you to clean my toilet,
wash my dishes and answer the goddamn door."
Jeeves: "Quite."
-Michael Sandlin