H, 1951: All of these songs are short and interesting, and there’s enough variety here to prevent monotony, and the entire collection is definitely a singular achievement. The overall experience of listening to the whole thing kept making me want to imagine a backstory to the collection. Something like:
It’s a comically overblown response to an agent’s question “Yes, but can you write a love song?”
It’s a soundtrack to a movie about a songwriter secretly employed by a tech entrepreneur whose latest startup is having problems living up to its promise that it can use AI to generate an infinite variety of perfectly listenable love songs.
It’s a project designed to convince listeners that all love songs, and perhaps all popular romantic notions of love, are entirely ridiculous, and to ensure that said listeners will never be able to thoughtlessly lose themselves in another silly love song without suddenly breaking out in a cold sweat, worried that the insipid sounds they’re hearing might actually be concealing a line as disquieting as: “my heart’s running around like a chicken with its head cut off.”
But whether any of these are true, or none of them, ultimately it feels like the joke wears a little thin before reaching the end of the endeavor. The whole thing is an impressive feat, but the lack of emotional authenticity either invested by the music’s creators, or solicited from the music’s listeners, finally ends up making the whole thing feel a bit sterile.
Undeniably clever, though. My favorite track is “Love is Like Jazz.”