The AI Café ☕

I pushed open the glass door. In an instant, a dozen juvenile Filipino heads turned our way. After travelling for a month in the Philippines, I've gotten used to the looks. As a foreigner with light skin, a cool basketball cap, and a large backpack attached to my body, attracting attention is predetermined.

As soon as they appreciated our presence, they turned back to sipping on their coffees, playing on their phones and conversing amongst each other. "Coffee Connection" in Metro Manila seemed like an veggie oasis in a culinary desert made up of a diet that consisted almost exclusively of meat, some rice and some more meat. But Coffee Connection wasn't just about greenwashing the Philippines' carnivore image. Of course, there was also the coffee–and the connection.

And boy, were we in for a surprise!

With every cup, a story is told,
An affection that grows sevenfold,
We connect with every sip we share,
Bring people together, show them we care.

The kitschy K-pop-style music roared from the speakers as I shuffled the cards and we started to play a cultivated game of Monopoly Deal. When the chorus started, something unexpected happened:

Coffee connection, where hearts align,
In every brew, a moment divine,
Friends and strangers, side by side,
In this place, we confide.

"Sophia?", I asked my opponent, as she, in turn, asked me to pay her two million of Monopoly money in rent.
"Does this café have its own soundtrack?". The next song sounded equally kitschy, equally bland, equally unoriginal. And then it became clear to us: we had just sat down in an AI Café.

Connecting hearts,
One cup at a time,
Coffee connection,
Where you'll be fine.

As I glanced around, the Gen Z crowd seem unbothered. They were still deeply invested in whatever was happening on the screens of their phones.

A month prior, I had been a little put off, when I heard the famous AI song "Walk My Way" by Breaking Rust in yet another café, that time in Kuala Lumpur:

You can hate my style,
you can roll your eyes,
but I ain't slowing down,
I was born to rise.

I felt disgusted. But the owners of the place didn't seem to share the sentiment. They just continued to play the entire artificially created album. Is this the future for music?

So kick them rocks,
if you don't like how I talk,
I'ma keep on talking
and walk my walk.

There's a message hidden behind the gruff voice of this non-human singer. AI music is on the rise. If you don't like how they talk, well, apparently they'll keep on talking.

Is this so wrong? If you asked the AI enthusiasts out there, they'll remind you of the invention of the calculator. "You aren't calculating in your head any more, are you? The same way that people use calculators today, they'll use AI in the future. No more need for you to do this in your head."

Been beat down, but I don't stay low,
Got mud on my jeans, still ready to go,
Every scar's a story that I survived,
I've been through hell, but I'm still alive.

However, what AI enthusiasts seem to overlook is the fact that mental arithmetic isn't an expression of human experience. Even though Breaking Rust claims this in their lyrics, they actually never had mud on their jeans, never had a scar, never been through hell and above all else: they have never been alive. Their idea of human experience is an output of a machine that has been fed with hundreds of thousands of lyrics to statistically determine what could be some average country singer's struggles.

The way that my visit in Coffee Connection turned out, I got a strange feeling. I felt deeply offended and wondered how we can let this happen. To let this artificiality, this inhumanness, this average bland of cheesy pop music happen. But why was no one around me bothered? Is mediated life in the 2020s only about mere stimulation? Have we lost touch with our quality of being human? Is AI music the future?

Anyway, I can't wait for the first AI concerts. I wonder in what form good old Breaking Rust will manifest themselves. Will they just put a desktop PC on stage and have them wear a cowboy hat? 🤠