This is today’s best screengrab, I’m warning you now…

[Video][Website]
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Hazel Robinson: I, like, woke up this morning and realised how, like, I’m a Cartesian dualist concept of an immortal soul in a bodily vessel. Or perhaps, like, a Cyberman.
[5]

Katherine St Asaph: The song Marina’s “I Am Not A Robot” should have been.
[7]

Iain Mew: In the increasingly difficult quest to find new angles for self as robot metaphors, this song initially appears to have succeeded. It’s not about the usual inability to feel, or lack of control over actions. Instead, it’s about decay and breakdown. Cool. Except… isn’t breaking down over time more obviously a property you’d associate with the human body than of a robot, rendering the whole exercise pointless? In fact, didn’t The Futureheads already write an excellent and more logical song based on the exact opposite premise — that robots, more likely than not, will last longer than people? There’s certainly not enough here musically to distract me from spending the whole time being bothered by those questions.
[4]

Rebecca Toennessen: From her website:She had started thinking about the planet-straddling 80s pop-rock of early Duran Duran and Psychedelic Furs; that unique amalgam of intimate words and epic sounds that have been spruced-up and modernised by one of her contemporary favourites, The Killers (“Brandon is awkward and angular. That’s sexy to me”). To a girl born in 1991, these 80s sounds were both alien and transgressive. Planet straddling? Whaaa? And now I feel old, so I’m grumpily awarding…
[2]

Martin Skidmore: You’d barely need telling that she is Sting’s daughter. This has a bit of added synth, but could otherwise be some band wanting to be the new Police, but lacking the talent for singing or songwriting, and I never thought the Police had much of that.
[2]

Erick Bieritz: It’s eerie how much she sounds like her dad – the inflection in so LONEly made it obvious even before Google reported who and what an I Blame Coco is. Robyn producer Klas makes this sound, well, a lot like an airy electronic oscillating Robyn song, but the hook is genuine and it’s good enough to escape the shadow of her father, if not (yet) the shadow of nu-synth peers like Robyn and La Roux.
[6]

Mallory O’Donnell: It’s sad that a song this deliciously anonymous coincides with such an awkward artist name and title. Coco has taken her father’s cheekbones and stimulating metaphysical nonsense and added a bit of youthly, earthly (forgive me) spunk to them. Wedded to an ardent, urgent beat that soars and swoops in all the right places, “Self Machine” is arguably the first piece of post-electroclash that has any originality to it whatsoever. It certainly makes whatever Goldfrapp last trotted out sound like disco fucking cookie.
[8]

Jonathan Bogart: I’m suspicious of my immediate irritated “That voice again? Why is every skinny indie dude singing in that voice now?” reaction on first hearing the song; I don’t even listen to a lot of indie dudes so how would I know what every one of them sounds like? Then the song went on and all I could hear was a twelve-year-old boy whose voice hadn’t broken yet. Which is sort of interesting, but not interesting enough to make up for the dullness of the rest of the song.
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