Making an electronic album with only female guest vocalists in which all songs begin with the words “The Only” is a gimmick to be sure, but the only real connection that The Only She Chapters has to humanity, let alone the female side of it, is that it’s incredibly sexy. It slinks along on imperfect machinery with chains stirring constantly as they’re dragged behind. It’s lumbering but awe-inspiring, and, when the vocals do come in, they’re disorienting, like a human countenance emerging from the cascades of wires and circuits. The Only She Chapters is less homage than imitation, mimicking seduction as if programmed to do so. Whether the album succeeds at that I will leave to your interpretation, but it is nevertheless fascinating in much the same way it is to watch robots perform the simple tasks we take for granted; so authentic it’s creepy. And yet, the funny thing about that and The Only She Chapters is that you won’t be able to look away until it’s over.