Thursday, January 27, 2005

Watching from the Back Row

It is summer in Rio
Warm and sultry
We are part of a huge music festival
The people have turned out in force
To see the Name Brand Bands
Not to see us
But we still have to play
The transition from American Winter
To Brazilian Summer makes me lazy

So I turn on the AI software
And free the Monkey Boy
They assemble the echoing thunder
I move to the back of the crowd
And watch my own show from the back row
The robot is going through the motions
He keeps the beat but there is no spontaneity
He stays in tune but can’t hit the emotional high notes
But as long as the beat is pounding
The crowd doesn’t seem to notice the difference
Robot gets the job done
And plays a solid set
I’ve programmed him well

Brad, from Boston, works his way through the crowd
He has identified me somehow from a distance
As a fellow American
But he doesn’t notice the resemblance between
Me and the robot
Brad takes off his wrap-around sunglasses
He offers me a sip from his beer
I decline

These dudes are the real cheese, says Brad
I met these dudes in Amsterdam
These dudes played a helleva show
My homeys at Big Europe Records are gonna pick them up
Big money
The real cheese, dude
Hey, if you give me a ride to this party across town
I can introduce you to these dudes
They’re the best Eurobeat band of the new century
Real cheese
Why you laughing, dude?

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