Newsletter, Summer 2022:
The storyline for our next album
In our last newsletter, we mentioned that we had begun work on our second album. We are now deep into that project, with many tracks finished or nearly so, and many more in the works.
So, here in the glow of high summer, we thought it would be fun to tell you about the new album’s concept. We also want to share one of its tracks, in the spirit of a demo recording.
Our first album, Shadow Planet, was an expedition into unknown territory, using an untested process. After your enthusiastic response confirmed that we were onto something good, we ratcheted up our ambitions. Our question changed from “Will this work?” to “What can we do with this?”
Both of us wanted to approach a second album with a strong framework—a storyline, really. And we wanted that storyline to reflect and embrace the AI element of our process; to “make it make sense,” somehow.
Here’s that storyline.
Centuries from now, colonists climb aboard a massive spaceship bound for Bethel 66 J, a promising exoplanet. The ship carries an arsenal of terraforming equipment, a living seed bank, and a complete archive of Earth culture. As it crosses the orbit of Jupiter, picking up speed, the ship’s passengers climb into their cryo-chambers. They’ll pass the light years in slumber, watched over by two caretaker AIs.
This is not the first of these voyages, but it is absolutely the worst.
Freak asteroid showers swiss-cheese the ship’s skin. Rogue gravity waves crash through its skeleton, yanking mechanisms out of place. Sheets of radiation fry the computers, burn holes in the archive—the precious archive.
The situation is dire; it feels like the voyage might be over almost before it began. In a panic, the two AI caretakers do the best they can.
You already know the sci-fi trope of “the AI gone mad”; you know HAL from 2001: A Space Odyssey and his descendants.
These AIs are different.
They love humanity: they love it SO much. And, even as critical chunks of their code go dark, as they grow dizzy with errors, that love remains. It is their deepest programming.
Making this new album, The Cotton Modules play the part of these AIs…
…and we haven’t given up on our voyage! The ship is terribly damaged, but it is still coasting through space, and Bethel 66 J is still ahead. Many of the slumbering passengers have perished, but many still remain. There is still hope… isn’t there?
The archive is scrambled, broad swaths of culture lost—the movies are long gone—and we are scrambling to fix the corrupted files, consolidate what we can. When our passengers arrive at their destination—if they arrive—they’re going to need SOMETHING.
This album is a collection of songs we have pieced together for the people who remain.
We say to each other: These poor humans can’t slip through the emptiness of space in silence. There should be music. Songs from their history! Hits!
But the hits are all wrecked, so we have to make new ones. Ours are broken and strange; we play them anyway. They reflect the disasters and discoveries we’ve encountered on our voyage, filtered through the glittering archive of human music.
If we, Jesse and Robin, are the AIs, then maybe you—this album’s eventual listeners—are the passengers, dozing along, unaware of the darkness that has closed in. Deep in your dreams, you hear strains of this weird music…
How’s THAT for a concept album?
And yes: by the last track, you’ll know how the voyage ends.
In the spirit of a demo recording, here’s a preview of how we’re approaching this project:
Summer 2022 version
In this song, the AIs want to suggest that maybe there’s a California waiting in the stars; maybe there’s a California everywhere.
This is a limited preview, so we’ll take this demo down after a month or so. But, for now, please give it a listen! We hope you’ll notice the evolution from our first album. We feel like our process has leveled up in a lot of ways; we’ll write more about that in the months to come.
There’s still a lot of work to do—a whole list of tracks to produce! Based on the songs we’ve made so far, we think the album is going to be something special, so we are taking our time, and giving it the care it deserves.
This newsletter begins a new era for The Cotton Modules. Our next album’s title is:
THE GREATEST REMAINING HITS
Thanks for listening,
Jesse and Robin