When I called to schedule an interview with Massey Camp, elusive frontman for Chattanooga punk band Bed Kaczysnki, his publicist suggested we meet at the corner of Bailey and Orchard Knob.
I naively assumed that upon my arrival I would discover some unknown gem of a coffee shop where Massey Camp, cappuccino in hand, would greet me from a garden patio.
Instead, I found an empty litter-strewn parking lot. Turning back, I passed an unkept young man at the bus stop. Our eyes briefly met and as I prepared to inform him I had no spare change, he stood and greeted me by name. Apparently, this disheveled rapscallion was none other than Massey Camp. And as I would soon learn, he has logged many hours at Chattanooga’s various bus stops.
“But I don’t ride the bus,” Massey was quick to inform me. “I have a car. I only come to the bus stop for inspiration. I just sit here and wait and eventually the ethereal courts bless me with a new song... or at least they used to.” As he recalled the making of their new album – the endearingly manic ‘Art Breeder’ – his wistful gaze settled on a distant horizon in his memory. His voice cracked as he confided that unlike his band’s previous albums, he did not actually write this one.
“I would come out to the bus stop and sit and wait and nothing would happen,” he recalls. “I would go to another bus stop and another one and another one and wait all day and the ethereal courts refused to anoint me.” Massey was unsure just how many fruitless hours he spent waiting for a metaphorical bus that would never arrive, but he estimated it to be more than 500 and less than 5,000. It cost him more than his time and mental health: he was also hospitalized for third-degree sunburn and is still paying off medical bills.
Fearing for Massey’s declining state, Bed Kaczynski bassist Aidan Humphries was forced to intervene. “I told him how I have a friend who runs Dungeons and Dragons campaigns that are generated entirely by Artificial Intelligence. So why couldn’t we just do the same thing with our next album?”
“At first I wasn’t so sure,” Massey recalls. “Mainly because I’m a luddite who fears technology, but then Aidan reassured me that AI was not some tiny, overworked person enslaved inside my phone, but rather it was one of many convenient tools we use every day to subvert and replace humanity.”
Their new AI collaborator was invited to band practice, and after only a few quick text prompts it began spitting out new songs. “The third one it wrote was actually ‘Dust in the Wind’ by Kansas,” Massey laughs. “So obviously we couldn’t use that one. But it confirmed my belief that all songs exist in a creative pool which humans can tap into. And it proved that A.I. could also reach into those same ethereal courts.”
Of course the decision to relinquish creative control of the band to a free AI app was not without controversy. Would fans consider this a legitimate Bed Kaczysnki album? Those fears were put to rest when they remembered they had no fans. “Aidan’s mom streams our stuff while she does yoga with the volume down. But other than that, nobody really listens to our music so thankfully there’s been no backlash.”
This esteemed music critic, however, finds himself more conflicted. Before hearing that Massey’s smart phone wrote the album for him, I was prepared to praise its mix of dark humor and musical unpredictability, and the way in which it bumps up against cynicism and sincerity, but doesn’t get bogged down in either. Part of the fun of Bed Kaczynski is the way in which the songs seem to suffer from ADD, get bored with themselves after about 45 seconds, and abruptly start over with a new tempo and a totally different feel.
Their new album is seven songs long and runs only fifteen minutes – but there’s at least 20 songs worth of music crammed in there. It’s provocative, personal, funny, angry and at times kinda sad. It reminds me of one of those friends where you’re never quite sure if they’re joking around or crying for help. I guess in that way it sounds like being young. But there are lots of albums that capture the feeling of being young, and what’s cool about Bed Kaczinski. is how they capture the feeling of being young in 2023.
Or at least that’s what I thought until I found out a computer wrote it. Call me old fashioned (or even pretentious), but I believe that art should be an expression of humanity. Bed Kaczynski is an interesting band to me because Massey Camp is an interesting human, and the moment I heard this album was merely a computer’s attempt to imitate him, I must admit my feelings about the music wilted. My disappointment must have been palpable as Massey quickly reassured me this was only an experiment, and that for the band’s next album they would return to writing their own songs.
So was this foray into AI art a failed experiment? Had Bed Kaczynski recognized the limits of technology and come away with a newfound appreciation of humanity’s innate value? While we can certainly trust computers to correct our spelling and give us directions, was it preposterous to think that a computer could ever understand punk – and that it could teach itself to be punk?
Well, not quite. “Unfortunately, the free trial period on my AI app expired,” he shrugged, “and I just can’t take on another monthly subscription right now.” And so for the foreseeable future at least, Bed Kaczinski is back to being a plain old regular human punk band. And Massey Camp continues to loiter at Chattanooga’s bus stops, hoping for a flash of musical lightning from the ethereal courts.
Interested in a listen? Check them out here on Spotify.