Forgoing regard to inevitable heartbreak and continuing undeterred, Mandell's instrumental love sonnets to his special gadget are tender and warm, regardless of how unnatural his feelings might be. He is not picky in his attraction to these machines, either -- his declarations swing from Atari-type sounds to the technology of modern day, all with percolating beats and textures that devilishly insinuate stimulation. Mandell's perversion is, if not contagious, at least understandable after hearing "The Princess Speaks of Love," a mash note that comes across as an iMac makeover of a sleazy porn soundtrack. Machines captures all of love's myriad permutations, from the first anxious pangs of a crush to the respectful comfort of an established couple. Actually, Mandell makes such a convincing case for his forbidden love that PCs might start to seem kind of sexy. Um ... if you're into that kind of thing, of course. Perhaps too much has been said already.
