the hussalonia robot singers. review by alan haber. buhdge

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The Hussalonia Robot Singers Hussalonia No. 2 (2002) Keep the caffeine away from Jesse Mank, the brilliant son of a gun behind the way-out-there-but-closer-than-you-think, ever-growing series of Hussalonia Home Fabricated Compact Disques. The last thing Mank needs is to be wired, for God's sake, and here's the proof: 20 minutes of auto- and otherwise-biography of everybody's favorite walking, talking hunks of junk: robots, coming at ya not to stomp and destroy but merely to be understood. Understand? Mank does, and it is only because his mind works in mysteriously creative ways that he can make 20 minutes worth of songs sung by robots work, and work it does, and in ways that really aren't so mysterious after all. Opening with a robot chorus essaying the traditional hymn, "Abide with Me," and segueing smoothly into a world populated by an hallucinogenic turning-inside-out of something on the order of Brian Wilson's "Fall Breaks and Back to Winter," a robotian crooner laments the loss of love and promulgation of neglect in "Neglect has Turned Me Orange and Brown, but You Have Made Me Blue." Taking root in Stephen Foster territory, a robot sets his sights on the spiritual by admitting his desire to be a beautiful bird (easier to escape your confines that way) in the pretty, thoroughly charming "I Want to Be an Owl." Fans of the fourth Hussalonia Disc by Percy "Thrills" Hussalonia will be familiar with Mank's ability to come up with striking, new ideas, seemingly at the drop of a hat. Here, the new idea is the kernel of "The Questioning Machine," in which a robot's answering machine greets a caller with a plurality of questions dealing with the bigger issues of his life: loneliness, death ("Is that normal?"), and love. It's really quite touching. A female robot pleads with someone to buy her; sweet turns to sour and back again; the wheels of machinery turn and breathe life (and lament not being outfitted with a human heart) in the experimental "You Are a Girl, I'm a Machine"; eerie voices sit comfortably atop delicate acoustic work (in the decidedly-not-by-Buddy-Holly "Rave On!"), and a male robot pines for the comfort of home in a bizarre, faux-cowboy reworking, against a background of machine age noises, of "Home on the Range." That's a lot for 20 minutes, and it would normally take the prayers of a legion of worshippers to make it all happen, but Mank's much more than a capable sort, and he's made these robots sing. This kind of thing is, admittedly, not for everyone, but every one of you would be enriched after a spin of Hussalonia. Go on...do the Hussalonia with me! (The only copies of The Hussalonia Robot Singers available can be had from CD Baby...hurry, before they're all gone!) Alan Haber April 30, 2005
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The Hussalonia Robot Singers
Hussalonia No. 2
(2002)

the hussalonia robot singers Keep the caffeine away from Jesse Mank, the brilliant son of a gun behind the way-out-there-but-closer-than-you-think, ever-growing series of Hussalonia Home Fabricated Compact Disques. The last thing Mank needs is to be wired, for God's sake, and here's the proof: 20 minutes of auto- and otherwise-biography of everybody's favorite walking, talking hunks of junk: robots, coming at ya not to stomp and destroy but merely to be understood.

Understand? Mank does, and it is only because his mind works in mysteriously creative ways that he can make 20 minutes worth of songs sung by robots work, and work it does, and in ways that really aren't so mysterious after all.

Opening with a robot chorus essaying the traditional hymn, "Abide with Me," and segueing smoothly into a world populated by an hallucinogenic turning-inside-out of something on the order of Brian Wilson's "Fall Breaks and Back to Winter," a robotian crooner laments the loss of love and promulgation of neglect in "Neglect has Turned Me Orange and Brown, but You Have Made Me Blue." Taking root in Stephen Foster territory, a robot sets his sights on the spiritual by admitting his desire to be a beautiful bird (easier to escape your confines that way) in the pretty, thoroughly charming "I Want to Be an Owl."

Fans of the fourth Hussalonia Disc by Percy "Thrills" Hussalonia will be familiar with Mank's ability to come up with striking, new ideas, seemingly at the drop of a hat. Here, the new idea is the kernel of "The Questioning Machine," in which a robot's answering machine greets a caller with a plurality of questions dealing with the bigger issues of his life: loneliness, death ("Is that normal?"), and love. It's really quite touching.

A female robot pleads with someone to buy her; sweet turns to sour and back again; the wheels of machinery turn and breathe life (and lament not being outfitted with a human heart) in the experimental "You Are a Girl, I'm a Machine"; eerie voices sit comfortably atop delicate acoustic work (in the decidedly-not-by-Buddy-Holly "Rave On!"), and a male robot pines for the comfort of home in a bizarre, faux-cowboy reworking, against a background of machine age noises, of "Home on the Range." That's a lot for 20 minutes, and it would normally take the prayers of a legion of worshippers to make it all happen, but Mank's much more than a capable sort, and he's made these robots sing.

This kind of thing is, admittedly, not for everyone, but every one of you would be enriched after a spin of Hussalonia. Go on...do the Hussalonia with me! (The only copies of The Hussalonia Robot Singers available can be had from CD Baby...hurry, before they're all gone!)

Alan Haber
April 30, 2005