Like a precursor to Bjork’s All Is Full Of Love, Dee D. Jackson’s Automatic Lover is slyly suggestive of the future of pop music twinged with robotic eroticism. Much like Plan 9 From Outer Space, even with a limited special effects budget (literally all they have here is an empty sound stage, a smoke machine, a robot, and Diane Von Fusterberg’s pajamas) the ability to maintain a straight face and hold character in the face of a cripplingly small budget wows me every time. She wants that robot. Like she seriously needs some of that robot love. Is it a maxim of the loneliness and modern man’s incessant quest for nurturing and approval? Or can the androids just do things that modern men can’t? Whatever the case, this song is extra-brilliant due to its perfect balance of tongue-in-cheek lyricism and super-serious presentation; all that AND a strangely Daft Punk-esque masterful synthy backing melody that seems like it could have been scoured off the interwebs this morning, having been released the night before somewhere in the dark Hobbity reaches of Sweden or wherever these sounds usually originate. We analyse this whole thing backwards because we know the present so much better than the past. We start with an answer (today’s chillwave/synthy/spacerock sound that is obviously, and eerily, similar to this song) and we try to formulate the question- what inspired the style of Automatic Lover in the first place? 1978 ladies and gentlemen. 1978. Most of us weren’t even tingles at that point. Give ‘em cold steel boys!