Lonely Robot is the solo project of John Mitchell, who really should need no introduction for anybody reading this review, but in case you are relatively new to progressive rock (welcome to the finest review site in rockdom, by the way), Mitchell is an extremely talented and prolific artist whose talents are lent to Arena (new album due out very shortly), Frost*, Kino, and a host of other artists including the late and very much missed John Wetton. Lonely Robot is, though, the project in which he has total creative control without the compromises which are necessary in a band environment, and A Model Life is his fifth release since 2015. In my opinion, it is by far and away his best.

As with so many of the finest albums, it is a personal story, in this case the tragedy of a long-term relationship breakdown and remembering the death of an alcoholic father, which has taken the artist and creator to a different level. Please don’t take this to mean I have not enjoyed past works, because I have, but this one is special. To summarise, if you enjoy meaningful rock music which is not only intelligent, but also accessible with distinct pop sensibilities, then this is one for you. Some of the guitar solos, especially, take your breath away.

Talking of pop sensibilities, this is what strikes you immediately about the opener, Recalibrating, which has at its core some extremely bright and breezy chords and a racy rhythm. The track strikes one as an exercise in catharsis, as Mitchell talks about recalibrating and finding his place again as it is too late to turn things around. The video is embedded above. I especially like that quieter passage which kicks in at just after three minutes before we are treated to a fine guitar solo. An altogether strong start.

Digital God Machine is sheer class, especially thematically. I am not a fan of social meeja, and, indeed, have spent a long time avoiding the pitfalls of Tweetypie and Instantfameogram. I only joined Facebook as a means of communicating with the artists I review on this site. This track is a very intelligent commentary on the fools and braggards who populate t’intertit with their unique brand of vitriol, hiding bravely behind the anonymity of a screen and keyboard. It opens with some exceptionally dark keyboard effects and some thumping drums by Craig Blundell (I saw in an interview this week that these were sampled owing to the perpetual Hackett touring machine). It reminds one in parts of Gabriel circa 1980’s without ever being derivative.

Species in Transition is a great title and opens with some suitably futuristic sounds before a pretty piano leads us into the vocal. I never watch or listen to artists explaining their lyric meaning before reviewing, because as regular readers know, I like to put across my own interpretation. This very interesting song strikes me as being a paeon to simpler days of direct communication, as opposed to the instant manner of nonsense seen online. The track is kept throbbing along before a quite exquisite guitar solo kicks in, and this then segues into an altogether darker riff, full of emotion and crackling along your sound system. This is thoughtful rock music very well executed.

Starlit Stardust follows. The first few times I listened to this; it drove me around the bend. It is definitely earworm material, and one of the reasons I couldn’t get it out of my head was wondering just what it reminded me of. It then hit me. This song could quite easily have featured on Calling All Stations, and I mean that as a compliment, because I believe that Ray Wilson sung album is rather undervalued. The influence of Banks in the lush sounding keyboards is obvious, and the chorus would be hit single material in a more sensible world. The guitar riff which precedes the expansive denouement is loud and touching.

The video to The Island of Misfit Toys is embedded above and is simply bonkers. It is a loving parody of those kids TV series we knew and loved back in the day. I especially love the playing with Little Ted which takes me back well over 50 years to the halcyon days of Play School. This, however, is not the straightforward story of what is a pretty dystopian affair at its heart, talking as it does about the impending apocalypse, and the passage with the Barbie Doll is about as dark as it gets until Mitchell talking about the privileged and elitist being brought to account trumps this.

The title track is simply beautiful, a real highlight of 2022 in Lazland. It drips emotion and has Mitchell simply pouring out his heart, mutual feelings, and wondering just how and where it all went wrong. The chorus takes you to another level simply by virtue of Mitchell’s voice and lyrics, and I write this as someone who has been happily married for over 21 years. It is a musical story of a breakdown and the inherent bitterness and regret that such events bring about and reminds me very much of conversations I held with my parents long after they divorced.

Mandalay continues the theme and the disappointment about this is that at 1:51 it is criminally short. It has a mournful vocal reminiscing about a home or holiday grown on the bulbs of love accompanied by a delicate piano and key chords. Simply gorgeous.

Rain Kings is the longest track on the album at 6:34 minutes. It has a suitably stormy opening accompanied by more of those minimalistic keyboard notes and lyrically talks to me about the accusations thrown at Mitchell by his ex, perhaps during the arguments and tantrums which inevitably accompany a relationship breakdown. It is another emotional track, and this is dripping just short of three minutes in when the music expands into a deeply satisfying extended instrumental passage, and I do like the quieter interlude four minutes in before the music expands again. The denouement features some clever and pertinent backing vocals overlaying the main theme. Having listened to this track several times now, it has become a personal favourite.

Duty of Care is only slightly shorter and is the penultimate track. It starts off with what I think of as a dark nursery rhyme with its keyboard notes projecting a sense of doom, which is appropriate given the subject matter discussing parental shortcomings. The guitar solo two minutes in is dripping with emotion before Mitchell vocally describes a deeply unhappy time living with the effects of alcoholism. The music itself is hypnotic with its chord loops revolving around the vocals. The “just keep moving, just keep breathing” will be deeply familiar, and very moving, to anyone who has experienced this in their own life. Children need love and that love needs to be unconditional, as Mitchell lays bare that in the warmth of your arms, I rely. Simply superb.

In Memoriam closes the album. It extends the theme of the previous track talking about his father and the funeral tone of the opening passage somewhat belies what is a lovely cathartic piece, that of Mitchell having bared his soul to us, but closing and choosing to look forward now, not backward. He reclaims what is his, and you sense a new beginning in his life. Good luck to him, and I might add that the guitar solo in the mid-section is just about as good as any you will have heard over the last forty years, or so.

I did not enjoy A Model Life the first couple of times I heard it. It struck me as being inherently contradictory both musically and lyrically, but it then hit me, as the best albums do. They take a wee while to embed themselves in your consciousness and appreciate what the artist is trying to do. This album is about as personal as it gets. If you look at the Album Reviews by Year Page of this website, and go to 2020, you will see a review of The Science of Goodbye by Three Colours Dark, the collaboration between Jonathan Edwards and Rachel Cohen, which I was lucky enough to be able to champion. In my interview with them, which you can read in the Interviews Page of this website (strangely enough!), Rachel talks about the narcissistic abuse which prompted the lyrical theme, but also the cathartic nature of being able to share that musically. That is a wonderful album. For similar reasons, so is A Model Life.