Mixed emotions over one of those eye-catching social media “reels” a few months ago, for two reasons. Firstly, attraction; the singing girl was a vision of beauty, perfect in every way. So perfect in fact, orally she cast no shadow, like she had a torch wedged into her oesophagus, and her sparkly array of exemplary toothy-pegs seemed to levitate in her mouth without the need of gums, ugly as gums usually are…..
The second reason it drew my attention was irritation; she was faultlessly singing, “The Rivers of Babylon,” with a caption claiming the song was by Boney M, but in a funny kinda way it was apt. A disco rehash cover by pop band Boney M, yeah, when, ironically, neither its producer, conman Frank Farian, nor the creators of this saccharine AI abomination either understood or cared to understand the meaning behind the song, for it goes against everything they’re backing.
The Rivers of Babylon is a Rastafari prayer, originally recorded by The Melodians in 1970. A biblical lament of Psalm 137, representing exile, sorrow, and yearning for home among the Jewish captured in Babylon. It is a song about oppression and liberation, using the Rastafari disambiguation of “Babylon” to mean any unjust, restrictive system.
If Frank Farian, pop manufacturer of Milli Vanilli, who were models and didn’t sing a note, isn’t restrictive and unjust enough for this modern era, perhaps an AI generated singer with more likes and follows on its social media than every local musician I know combined, is. And if it irks musicians who practice so hard to achieve their talents that I could prompt AI to create me a song near as good as theirs when I’m tone deaf, then it bloody well should!
It should enrage them, and often it does. But more and more abruptly turn to invite AI to create them a gig poster, or worse, an album cover. Event organisers too, with much to organise, hence the name, bypass the requirement and cost to commission an artist, photographer or graphic designer, and gung-ho a cringeworthy AI image to represent their event. Neither are fooling anyone anymore; it is, quite frankly, off-putting, and if your poster is tacky it gives the impression your event will be too.
Former editor of Doctor Who and Star Trek magazines, John Freeman ranted on Facebook last week, about a “crap” AI poster by one of the participating companies taking part in the 2026 Brighton Fringe, saying, “was this the idea of someone who spent the art budget on a slap up lunch in some overpriced beach view restaurant rather than, say, commission one of the hundreds of talented artists in the Brighton area to create one instead?!” Seems crazy, if you cannot find an artist in Brighton, you won’t find one elsewhere, but it has since been updated, explaining it’s not the official poster for the Fringe, and in speaking with the organisers of Brighton Fringe, they confirmed the ‘artwork’ is “not of their making.” There you have it, AI images are not a good look, frustrates artists and puts them out of pocket; no one wants to own up to using it.
Looky here, all creatives are in the same sinking boat, and the crew must work as a team for survival. If, as a musician, you’d be the first to complain about our gumless singing girl, then you should also be the one who says, “I’m going to find an artist to design me a poster.” And, if, as a designer, you’re charging £100 an hour to add some fonts to a photo, then you must realise the musician is struggling to keep afloat too, and make as best concession as you can, before they fire up Chat GTP. These connections must be realistic, or you all suffer like Sarah Connor, while complaining about the other! Meanwhile, AI companies are laughing at both your swollen mugs, as their programs harvest your tears for future reference.
While we’re using Rasta’s meaning of Babylon to illustrate unjust hypocrisy, there was an interview with Bob Marley which always rings true in such dilemmas. The interviewer attempted to catch him out, while he piled a colossal mixing board to construct a dubplate, by asking him why he used, “the fruits of Babylon.” “Babylon no have no fruits,” Bob wryly replied, and continued to explain it wasn’t the technology which was the problem, but those “pushing the buttons.”
It’s convenient, tempting, I know it is, to feed the machine. But it’s a genius invention we should only use as a tool to assist us, not to put us in the Job Centre. I might occasionally use AI to think of a word or expression, but I wouldn’t allow it to write for me; it loses the personal touch, and face it, it can’t do “funny.” In all sci-fi of yore, robots were placed helping us with the mundane tasks so we could concentrate on creating, not the other way around. Rosey the Robot did the Jetsons’ washing up, she never painted a Renaissance masterpiece for their wall.
I asked an AI app if it would create me some political propaganda, theoretically of course. An interesting conversation ensued, whereby it sucked up, apologising it couldn’t due to its regulations, but confirmed other apps could. It computed their wrongdoing, creating fake images for propaganda, but often its comments were deleted by the regulations when we got too close to the truth; my concern then being it could refuse the request of a human, based on its own moral judgement; are we in Skynet territory yet?!
Regulating AI will never happen while we pet its capacity, because the owners are happy pocketing our treats, and couldn’t care less about morals. Elon pulling a Nazi salute should’ve been a stark warning, but we laughed it off, kept calm and carried on. I’ve seen reels of Navy vessels gunning dinghies, Muslim women complaining about dogs in parks, and gammon flagshaggers forming human chains across the white cliffs of Dover, but they’re all products of their sick imaginations, hoping to fool likeminded spanners.
Don’t be like them, don’t jump that bandwagon. Your band doesn’t look like blued-eyed post-apocalyptic warriors, your drummer is not Immortan Joe, and when punters arrive to see him with one hand down his joggers, scratching an itch, it’ll be more disappointment than glory in Valhalla.
Look, if you want I can design your gig poster for you, for a tenner; message me, rather than reduce your promotion to uninspiring AI fartists. And I’m certain there’s plenty of designers locally that would be willing to help too. If you are such an artist, comment in our social shares and we’ll add your links to this article. Although that’s hitting Megatron with a spud gun shot, it’s still a small strike for the resistance.
Ah, you cry, so that’s the reason for me coming over all Dave shutting down HAL 9000, it’s a shameless plug for my artistic wares! But, where does this leave me and my gumless girlfriend? She’d probably dump me for not believing in her before I made my excuses; what appeared under her summer dress did nothing for me, because literally there was nothing there. Yet thousands complimentary comment on her video, about her voice or features, seemingly oblivious to the reality, she’s fake. Though, pointing out to my daughter how worrying their gullible idiocy is, and how that might affect political sway, should a reel be political rather than artistic based, backfired, upon my daughter admonishing my concern that the ones commenting are “bots” themselves.
“AI bot” art critics critiquing AI art, whatever next?! Let them battle between themselves, I say, while you, please find a real artist or designer to design your poster, or find a photographer, they’re always snapping happily away at the front of gigs, and plonk some text onto their efforts with your phone. “The future is not set,” Sarah Connor said, “there is no fate but what we make for ourselves.” A tenner… is all I ask!
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