This was back when I was working on my android girl group Apollo 666 — having officially given up on getting actual walking-around people to do any vocal work for me, I took a page from the late Peter Christopherson’s book and built my own singers out of Texas Instruments speech synthesis chips, phoneme recordings made during trance states and my old taxidermy experiments. The results were questionable, perhaps, but I live in New York now and questionable goes over like gangbusters here. Our first single, Let Me Lick Your Uncanny Valley, seemed to be doing well — now that no one buys music the only way I can tell if something is popular is if I hear it played at the bodega down the street but they told me they don’t take unsolicited demos. An article I read by someone who has never been in a band said the key to success in the new age of the void is to tour relentlessly, so I cleaned out the van and drove up and down the east coast playing outside adult bookstores and homeless shelters as I figured it’d be wise to reach out to my key demographic. It soon became obvious that the only interest my demographic had in my gearwork chanteuses was in the groinular area, so with some quick modifications to the original design I discovered that the best way to make a living in the arts was to become a robopimp.