IS MY TOASTER
SENTIENT?
IS MY TOASTER SENTIENT? (demo) 2003
DAKINI (instrumental) 1999
IS MY TOASTER SENTIENT? (album version) 2003
IS MY TOASTER SENTIENT? (live band version)
The Albany, Great Portland St, 2005
IS MY TOASTER SENTIENT? (Out To Lunch)
BBC Radio 2, 2006
GENERAL INFO
The fifth song on Gary’s first album Polaroid
Suitcase and the corresponding show of the same
name. Probably his most popular song, certainly the
most requested, and therefore the closest thing he
ever had to a ‘hit’.
RECORDING VENUES & DATES
Dakini (instrumental): Knotts Green Road, Leyton,
February 1999
Demo: Maude Terrace, Walthamstow, April 2003
Album version: Maude Terrace, Walthamstow, April -
June 2003
Band version: The Albany, Great Portland St,
London, May 12, 2005
OTL Version: Players Theatre, Villiers Street, London
WC2, April 20, 2006
INSPIRATIONS
Gary Numan: especially Are ‘Friends’ Electric? and
various other songs from Replicas and The Pleasure
Principle. But the spark that really set it going was
hearing the Sugababes’ version of Freak Like Me.
WHAT IT’S ABOUT
In his live introductions, Gary always said it was
about “the growing power of artificial intelligence.”
WHAT IT’S REALLY ABOUT
This song was one of the last additions to Polaroid
Suitcase, but one of the earliest ideas I’d had. In its
original form, it was supposed to be a modern remix
of an old hit, in the vein of The Sugababes and
Richard X’s version of Freak Like Me. Some of my
earliest notes for a potential Gary Le Strange show
refer to a pair of backing singers called The
Dummigurlz who would have sung lead vocals on a
song called ‘Freak Me Backwards’, the basic
instrumental elements of which would have been
pilfered from Gary’s own early 80s single ‘Is My
Toaster Sentient?’ Obviously this would only have
worked if I’d continued with the idea of Gary being a
genuine 80s pop star. And even then, it would
probably have been too elaborate for me to pull off.
So I ditched it. But around March 2003, when I made
the fateful decision to do a show at the Edinburgh
Fringe, I realised I needed to start getting serious
about the music. Or, more specifically, about the
breadth and range of Gary’s music and the dramatic
structure of the show. One of the main things I
wanted to do was split the show into three acts, with
the first being a general, accessible introduction to
the character, accompanied by music you’d most
likely recognise as ‘New Romantic’, the second act
heading deeper into more hardcore territory with
tales of ‘adult’ pursuits and harder-edged electronic
pieces, then the third being more of an emotional
resolution, getting right into Gary’s core, with a big
rousing Vienna-style ballad to send him off. At this
point, I had the opening and I had the Vienna ballad,
but I didn’t have anything hard enough for the
middle.
And that’s where Toaster comes in. It wasn’t
anything I particularly wanted to say as much as the
way I wanted to say it. Electronic, yes, but harder
edged, with guitars (or at least, the closest thing I
could get to guitars on a Sony PlayStation) -
somewhere more towards rock, with a funkier beat -
and lyrics that threw forth multiple images in quick
succession, without giving you much time to process
them before beating you over the head with the
next one. It felt risky - I had no idea whether it would
really land as comedy or just sound like a garbled
load of nonsense, and no idea whether I could
actually pull it off as a vocal performance - but that
just made me think it was absolutely necessary I get
it right.
So I sat down with a bunch of Gary Numan records
and just listened to them over and over again,
reading the lyrics, writing bits down and slightly
changing them, paying attention to the patterns and
the recurring themes, filtering them through Gary’s
mindset and hammering it out until I had something
approaching a song. It took a few goes to get it right
- there’s a demo with different lyrics and the first live
performance clearly isn’t there yet - but
perseverance paid off, and the song became the
main highlight of both the show and the album.
So what’s it about then? Looking at it now, not
having thought about it for ten years, I was half-
expecting it to be about nothing much at all. But
surprisingly it tells quite a vivid story of a lonely man
going slightly mad in his bedsit, overthinking a few
metaphysical questions and anthropomorphising
the various appliances around him to a paranoid,
maybe even schizophrenic, degree. It might be a
genuine cry for help - he certainly isn’t normal and
he doesn’t seem able to forge meaningful
relationships - but it could all be for show. He comes
across as a bit of an edgelord, with his Nazi posters
and his gas mask ready for the apocalypse. Trying
too hard to shock. He reckons he’s a rapist, which
should probably scare you, but he also says he’s
going to kill himself by plugging his cock in the wall,
so he’s probably harmless.
Another thing I see now is how well it sells the
original vision I had for Gary Le Strange. By the time
I wrote it, I already knew I wasn’t going to include his
earliest songs (Sex Dummy and Geometry) in the
show, which gave me permission to recast those
same ideas in a new light. As with Sex Dummy, he
clearly has a sexual fetish for inanimate objects, but
here there’s some movement beyond that (the
invitation at the end to ‘come back to my place’ is
clearly a question aimed at the listener, who
presumably isn’t a mannequin or a toaster). And like
Geometry, it paints a picture of an obsessive loner
who might get a bit carried away with bizarre ideas
in his bedroom. It clearly takes place a bit later in his
life than Geometry though - he talks about his
‘bedsit’ rather than his ‘bedroom’, so he no longer
lives with his Mum. But he still fears what she might
say if she knew what he was up to.
ALT VERSIONS
The main synth hook at the top of the song is
reused from an earlier piece I’d written called Dakini
(a species of Goddess or demon in Hindu and
Buddhist mythology), which I’ve included here (see
the top of the page). The track’s pretty basic and
deeply uncool, but the riff has a strong whiff of
Numan about it and felt suitably epic, so it was
begging to be repurposed.
The demo (don’t know the precise date, but it must
be sometime shortly before the first performance
on April 19th) has different lyrics, with a different
spoken section about a film he wants to watch on
BBC2, and a different ending (which makes it much
clearer Gary’s been cottaging). The live version at
Chats Palace is similar, but I’ve replaced the bizarre
last line about flies with a better one about not
telling his Mum.
There’s a live version I recorded with a band - Gary’s
short lived backing band, The Masques of
Mandragora - namely Dan Mersh on guitar, Jeremy
Limb on keyboards and his brother Chris Limb on
bass. This was the night of our debut performance
at my brief comedy night, Club Le Strange, recorded
onto a minidisc through the soundboard. Sadly the
beginning of Toaster is missing, but thankfully we
recorded the whole song in the soundcheck, so I’ve
spliced them both together for a seamless
experience. (The seam is actually just before ‘Oh
look, there’s JG Ballard’ if you really want to know.)
Even more sadly, Chris’ bass doesn’t seem to have
been put through the same system, so we can’t
actually hear it. Especially sad because he broke his
arm the following week and this was the only time
all four of us played together. There’s another song
from the same night here, complete with visuals. Oh
and if you’re wondering about the references to
Dave and Anthony - Dave was Dan Mersh’s
character’s name, but I’m not sure which Anthony
I’m talking to. I’d like to think it was the late, great
Antony Elvin, but I’m not sure I knew him in 2005.
Sincere apologies to whichever Anthony I’ve
forgotten about.
There’s another surprisingly uplifting live version,
from the second episode of Radio 2’s Out To Lunch.
We had to replace some of the words to make it
suitable for daytime broadcast - he drinks oil instead
of taking smack, his bin is a twit and he threatens to
electrocute his chest hair rather than his penis - but
that makes it a lot more fun in a way, and the piece
as a whole goes down very well with the two or
three punters who actually like it. As often the case
with Gary Le Strange, the laughter isn’t universal,
but where it hits, it hits hard. Thankfully by this point
we’d decided to drop the dreadful spoken part of the
act (see Ballerina for the offending clip), so it’s just
pure music this time, and it works as well as can be
expected.
But the best live performance might well be the one
on this video, a spirited version from Oram &
Meeten’s Club Fantastico in February 2007, which I
only just discovered a few weeks ago on an old mini-
DV tape at the back of a drawer. I’d already been
through Beef Scarecrow and out the other side by
this point, so it’s interesting to see how enthusiastic I
was about doing his old material again.
ANECDOTES & TRIVIA
I’ve never actually sat down and counted, but I
strongly suspect Toaster is the one song I’ve sung
more than any other. It’s certainly been the most
requested. It’s also the song I’ve most frequently
filmed for TV: four times at the last count (three of
which are here, here and here).
THOUGHTS & FEELINGS
I was chuffed to bits with it at the time but it’s never
been my favourite. Still, unlike other songs, I’ve
never fallen completely out of love with it either. I
like how it tells its story in a non-linear, non-obvious
way. A bit more like a pop song than a short story or
a comedy sketch, teetering on the edge of
accessibility but still somehow managing to stay
within its confines. It also has an energy I’ve rarely
matched with any other song since. A risk that paid
off. I like it.