On a sticker large enough to obscure approximately 25% of the cover art, copies of Automato's self-titled debut proclaim "Produced by DFA!" in 48 pt font. Not to diminish the growing sales value of the DFA brand name, but the publicity angle seems a clumsy effort to avoid scaring off the hiphop-shy, as cynical as hyping their use of live instrumentation so that their audience doesn't have to rescind their "rap is nothing but samples and talking" arguments. Still, the idea of the men behind The Rapture's curtain tuning their antennas to supervising beats of a different nature tingles some curiosity, if not without a hefty side-dish of skepticism.
Indeed, there are lessons to be learned from Automato's debut, the foremost being that the golden touch of Mssrs. Murphy and Goldsworthy can't save a band from their own indie-rap dullness, horrible cybernetic-produce bandname, and absolutely atrocious MC. Given the consistent failing of history-fetishizing underground hip-hop to remember the genre's dance music ancestry, one might think that the DFA have the perfect resume to inject a little discoball back into this hangdog scene. But the duo seems mostly content to leave Automato's music sopping in echo, doing little to disguise the fact that-- surprise!-- real genuine instruments are not, in and of themselves, a virtue.
Nevertheless, had the instruments been the only thing making noise in Automato, the album would be a sporadically interesting, if Iowa-flat affair. "Capes Billowing" sounds a bit like M83 mashed up with "Airbag", while the jammed-out coda to "Hope" resembles a minor-league "Yeah" (via LCD Soundsystem, of course, not Lil Jon). For the most part, the band's background vamp is intricate, featuring layers of keyboard minuets, staccato guitar, and multi-textured drums, but devoid of fun in favor of atmospherics. Despite announcing "if it ain't soul music, then it ain't my music," Automato are distinctly lacking in that elusive thump.
Gagging at the lyric excerpt in the last sentence? Well, that's only a taste of what MC Jesse Levine has in store for you fronting this sextet. Since my keyboard's quotation mark key can only handle so much derisive use, here's a quick sampling of some other choice tidbits, in quiz form:
A) "If you see a chair sit in it/ If you see a bear don't hit it."B) "My Casio never told me there'd be times like these."C) You don't appreciate people 'til they die/ Then you wonder why you never smiled when they're alive."D) MTV generation/ Can't focus my attention."
It's a trick question; I don't have a 12-year-old nephew. All are Levine originals, and what's worse, they're all hooks, meaning these lines don't slip by once or twice, but are repeated and recited like Hail Marys. To Levine's credit, he does have an ear for crafting a catchy rap melody, although it's hard to judge whether that's a good thing when faced with the indie hip-hop cliché-bingo chorus of "Cool Boots": "All I ever wanted was truth, peace, harmony and anti-gravitational boots."
The weird piano chording beneath the chorus of "Cool Boots" help make the song especially unshakeable, and hippie Trekkie lyrics aside, the song is revealing of how the Automato formula is not without its potential. So it's almost more disappointing that the DFA couldn't blow that spark into a bonfire, taking the same cattle prod to the mopey ass of indie hip-hop that they've recently used on shoegazing frown-rock. On the evidence provided by Automato's debut, Jay-Z won't be ringing up Goldworthy & Murphy anytime soon, and no hip-hop fan who doesn't know the liner notes of Echoes will or should bother with the band's music.
