AI music poisonous counterfeit

Music is an expression of humanity, not technological artifice. Composition begins in thought. Instrumental realization is most honestly performed by human beings.

There were no wind-up keys in the plaid-shirted backs of Jimmy Bryant and Speedy West.

Machines are not capable of independent thought, creativity, or interpretive production. True, artificial intelligence programs can in a twinkling assemble ideas fed into them by humans -- and they certainly can arrange those per typed request -- but no cold contraption ever had a brainstorm.

While penning these words, I asked an artificial intelligence program to compose Rockabilly song lyrics. Here's one verse:

Well, it's a cyber-billy boogie on the radio waves
Yeah, a cyber-billy boogie driving everyone crazy
Flip my toggle switch, baby, watch me go
Got a million gigabytes of Rock and Roll!

That's a far piece from Jerry Leiber and Mike Stoller.

Whether a song's author breaks fresh stylistic turf or embroiders upon already existent fashions, he cannot help but be (at least somewhat) reflective of cultural persuasions.  

Not only is artificial intelligence unaware of social permutations not generally accessible in the clouds -- it can't even flip its own ON switch.

Despite all that, manufactured music in sundry genres is seemingly ubiquitous. Persons exploring musics online must tread with caution as if in sketchy neighborhoods.

Understood is that a songwriter or producer might find it simpler to pour notions into machines, rather than enlist breathing players, that their visions assume form.

But the result reeks of sterility. It satisfies no discerning listener who truly loves music.

A factory construct can't feel exhileration, heartbreak, or rebelliousness. Those emotional phenomena -- which prompt creation and inject real, blood-surging life into music -- are exclusive to people. State-of-the-art components can no more cry or laugh than can store-window manniquins.

The battle between man and machine is hardly a new matter. John Henry, the steel-drivin' man of railroad-worker choruses' folk legend, was said to have pounded more spikes than his metallic, steam-powered competitor. 

Just so, human conceptions embody actual life sparks that doggerel issued from components simply does not. Man stands victorious.

I'll hand over a million dollars to anyone who can produce a mechanism that's known the blues.