Now, robots can play cellos with orchestras. The sound you hear is its creator's point whistling above his head.

I would describe myself in many ways. Writer, long haired moron, most spectacular lover on this side of the Milky Way. But I'd also describe myself as a musician. I am not a particularly good musician, but I have been known to throttle a stringed instruments to the very edge of its life, both for paying punters and for my own pleasure.

When I watched footage of a pair robot arms playing cello with the Malmo Symphony Orchestra I felt a variety of emotions. It's a technical feat to be admired. I felt a pang both of existential dread, and sympathy, as I looked at the faces of the musicians behind it. Their beloved art form was reduced to a series of robotic motions.

Technically, this is a competent performance. One arm makes smooth bow movements, while the other uses a circular appendage to manipulate the fingerboard in order to mimic the fingers of an experienced player. The pitch is perfect, and the timing is impeccable.

What is the performance? As you would expect, the performance is soulless. Even at the professional orchestral level, audiences pay to hear a human being feelingthese note as they play. The purpose of an instrument, as a tool to communicate the feelings, thoughts and inner workings, of a human being to the minds, thoughts and, dare I say, souls of other human beings who listen to it.

This is not what you're looking at. Some technical limitations are partly to blame. This circular fretting appendage does not appear to be capable vibrato. There is no way to manipulate the notes and add character or depth with a subtle shake of the wrist, or adjusting finger tension.

This collection of robotic limbs tries to play everything perfectly in the middle. But any good music teacher would tell you that's not the point.

It's more than just the existential aspect that makes this a somber, sad, almost grotesque, watch. Here, the audience is seated in front of a group of people who have dedicated their lives in order to understand, live, and breathe their craft. They push themselves every day in order to create emotional responses in those who listen.

On the other side of the machine, you will find the machine. It is unable to do these things. It can only play a stilted and haunting rendition of a desperate desire to be alive. It does it with brutal effectiveness. It is a sideshow or carnival ride in front of a stall at a trade show.

It has no idea what these notes mean. It does not see any soul in those notes, just as it would not find joy in a single line of code. It is devoid of context, heart, and emotion. It is dead.

We will all be worse off if this is the future of music in some form. We go to concerts in order to feel and see something real. This includes character, mistakes and the things that define us as human.

This automaton is not one of them. It makes me sad and has nothing to do the music it plays. It's a symbol for AI, robotics, and everything wrong with the current state of the tech industry.

We want machines to do the monotonous, repetitive, tiring and boring tasks for us. We increasingly see machines being used to reduce the wonderful, creative, life-giving aspects to nothing more than a repeatable and quantifiable zero sum.

Listen to the robot and weep, my friends. It plays a song that is desolate for us all.