Supposedly, Jbot never breaks character. He cringes, annoyed, when someone knows his real name. True, I learn that he prefers to be called “Jay,” but for forty minutes, I sit beside a humbled and open Jbot. As we twist in our elevated bar stools, sticky from humidity in the air, he freely explains his life on the road as the only living member of his band, Captured! by Robots. http://www.capturedbyrobots.com/

Thirteen years ago, Jbot gave up on human performers and created his robots. The bot crew produces the music that Jbot’s human counterparts could not. “I worked with people in bands for so long, it was time for that to be over. It’s all about the egos, all the bullshit that you deal with when you play in a band,” Jbot says. Despite the physical shackles that constrain him onstage, Jbot is now creatively free. He can no longer imagine working alongside an imperfect live being.

Jbot describes the process of configuring the six robots, of syncing their instruments and voices along with his own. A labor-intensive enterprise, he adjusts for time lags and spaces. He cannot accept any defects. “If I can’t figure it out right away, I am going to go back to it. I can’t not, I am definitely OCD,” Jbot states of the process.

Tonight, as with every night of this tour, Jbot riddles the keyed up audience with his setlist, including personal favorites from the previous tours: the “Dubya Tour,” “The Ten Commandments,” “Get Fit Tour,” “Captured Alive!” and inspired covers. CBR breathes new life into Journey’s “Don’t Stop Believing,” creating uproar in the nostalgic crowd. Keeping with the spirit of this amalgamation of songs, Jbot deems this go-round the “What the Fuck Tour.” He reveals that the format has made for his most enjoyable tour: “It is whatever I feel like. It’s fun not to be doing the same thing every night.” The audience loves it. Jbot poses questions to his followers. It is impossible to decipher whether they are screaming for his original tracks or for more nostalgia.

CBR continues on with occasional outbursts from each bot. Every robot has its own powerful personality. DRMBOT0110, GTRBOT666, AUTOMATOM, TAWHNN, SOTAWHNN and HEADLESS HORNSMEN constitute the crew. Most of the bots act out with malice towards Jbot. Only the ape and his son shower unconditional love on their proprietor. “Our relationship has grown in a lot of ways. Even though I’m still captured by robots. We act like a dysfunctional married couple,” Jbot confesses.

Jbot breaks his chains to meander through the rambunctious crowd. He pushes through the brigade that pulsates around him. Jbot screams into the mic, jiggling his guts, and whipping sweat on ecstatic fans. As he returns to the stage, the bots become angered and banish Jbot temporarily. The bots declare that they are good without him and a song full of fury and noise follows without the frontman.

Inevitably the bots settle and Jbot reclaims his rightful spot for the performance. An occasional revolt is one downfall of working with the group of disgruntled bots. Another is the isolation that comes from touring with piles of metal and screws. Unfortunately, bots are still not capable of keeping one warm at night on the dank floor of a tour bus and they don’t pick up any slack. “It is hard to have a band, but, yet, it is just you. I have to be the tour manager, the roadie, the mechanic, the ass kicker,” Jbot reveals. Still, he prefers the heavy workloads and solitary nights to a band full of ingrates.

To limit these chilly nights, CBR will be abbreviating their touring schedule: one tour a year instead of two. “Emotions can get to you when you’re traveling everyday, staying in a different place every night,” Jbot states. He hopes that limiting his time on the road will alleviate the emotional highs and lows and heighten the excitement when the robots finally return to town.