[Cover art by Carlos Alvear]
Valdivia, Chile’s Chercán represents one of the most exciting niches in rock and roll music, where eclectic prog supplies the latticework for a dynamic amalgam of heavy metal, math rock, jazz/fusion, electronic, and classical orchestration. Barely more than a year-and-a-half since their self-titled debut album, the first track and lead single from the new record, Canto De Silicio (Silicon Song), makes a disconcerting observation. It begins with light wind and plaintive electric guitar, and hushed vocals express anxious wonder. Then, as volume builds and sound fills its space, a couple of shifts occur. First a wave of big energy, heavy and tense, followed by the addition of artificial sounds both well integrated and distinctly different.
In light of the shifting tenor of the song, the inquisitive listener will recall the album art and title, look at the lyrics, and relate the song title, “Pareidolia,” the definition of which, according to Webster’s, is the tendency to perceive a specific, often meaningful image in a random or ambiguous visual pattern. Seeing something where there is nothing. The recognition of meaning in patterns that do not actually contain anything inherently meaningful. So that could mean the way we see figures in clouds or on a piece of toast, but it could also apply to the shaping of a person’s morality according to feedback from an app. Those introductory winds, it turns out, are the winds of change and the wariness of the vocals is about the world’s headlong plunge into the new era of (what we’ve been calling) artificial intelligence, and the erosion of trust in what we see in the virtual environment.
There’s a great deal of consternation about AI and everybody but the tech bros seems to agree it’s warranted (although even some of them seem to be coming around, which somehow makes it all even more alarming). It’s such a widespread concern that Chercán isn’t even the first South American heavy prog band this year to center their album’s themes on it (see Papangu’s Celestial). It makes sense that musical artists would be focusing on AI as it’s used at an alarming rate to subvert the very spirit of human creativity. It makes that much more sense that South American artists would be, given the extent of Nature’s cruel exploitation where they live.
Canto De Silicio’s twelve songs in 49 minutes roar and rumble with the severity and urgency of the moment. And yet, there is recognition in the songwriting of the very real impact on human lives reflected in a range of nuanced sounds and textures from horns, strings, traditional percussion, and synthesizers. The saxophone ringing throughout “En Lo Incierto (Into The Unknown),” for example, echoes the song’s theme in the context of strange industrial sounds and strobing downtuned guitars, underscoring the disconcerting ambiguity of a shifting environment. In “Ojos De Cristal (Crystal Eyes),” haunting cello and heavy toms undulate beneath bells and horns as plaintive vocals lament the soulless air of a world built by machines. Vast and detached, “Sueño Diferido (Deferred Dream),” contemplates the cold irony of a life lived in cryosleep in pursuit of the future we’ve been actively destroying here.
Songwriting does a great deal of the work in making these songs engaging and relatable, connecting thought exploration with explosive realization through careful arrangement and a wide variety of instrumentation to generate the emotion that drives this record. And the players make it happen. The percussion, for example, is so vital, imbuing everything with pulsing energy. “Materia Invisible” is a prime example with an irresistible flow over which layers undulate and intermix. Vocals convey awe and anxiety and the depth of desperation where control seems to have slipped away.
The best thematic illustration on Canto De Silicio might be its contrast of natural with machine sounds and textures. The naive observer might even be pressed to distinguish some of them or at least to identify the themes outright. In other words, Chercán has crafted these songs to reflect the restless ambiguity of our times rather than to bonk us on the head with apocalyptic admonishments. Consider “Última Luz (Last Light),” a song that blends the sounds of synthesizers and traditional wind and reed instruments so effectively that the combined sound is unique, intermittently comfortable and uncanny. These songs are as relatable when they tremble with diffuse dread as they are when they convey a familiar more comfortable sentiment.
Who knows where we’re going with all this? And we’re going, nonetheless. Of course, there are people everywhere speaking up about the uncertainty of the world and our lives in it, and AI specifically, which can ironically stoke the anxious fire as the questions mount in a sphere that seems ever beyond our reach as regular ass people. And so thank goodness for artists like Chercán making amazing music that considers the dilemmas of our lives and all their myriad facets, from multiple perspectives and with regard to various implications for all kinds of people. Because we need to talk about it. The more we share, the more likely it is we’ll find what we need to cope and perhaps even rise above. After all, what better way to answer the problem of artificial intelligence than with wonderfully human artistic expression?
