World Premiere: Carrie Matisse’s “Baby Robotic” Is a Poetic Breakdown at Rock Bottom – And the First Step Out
Today on Dropout Entertainment, we’re honoured to premiere Baby Robotic — the stunning debut music video from Toronto’s Carrie Matisse. This isn’t just a song. It’s the beginning of a world. A poetic, surreal, deeply personal world that lives somewhere between memory and myth, heartbreak and healing, literature and sound. Available exclusively on Dropout today, and set for public release tomorrow, Baby Robotic marks the first step in an unfolding story that’s as vulnerable as it is visionary.
The track was born on a cold December day in 2021. Behind a white paper mask and black sunglasses, Carrie walked into the Toronto Reference Library carrying the weight of betrayal and a collapsing friendship. She had been preparing PhD applications, recently finishing an MA in Creative Writing, and was knee-deep in the kind of ambition that pushes people to chase approval from institutions. But that day, something shifted. Between the pages of The Niobe Poems by poet Kate Daniels, she found a piece titled Sorrow Figure — and everything changed.
“I thought of it all night,” she says. “I went back the next day to read it again. Kate’s poem inspired Baby Robotic, the music video, and gave me the exact comfort I needed — in a way only poetry can.”
Her application to study with Daniels was ultimately rejected, but by then, it no longer mattered. A new path had already begun. She didn’t need permission to create. She needed to follow the work that lit her up.
The music came back, this time stronger, stranger, and soaked in emotional truth. She began building Carrie Matisse — not just a stage name, but a fictional character crafted from literary echoes, personal grief, and the vivid palette of Fauvist painter Henri Matisse. Carrie is someone who sits in her backyard at emotional rock bottom, trying to sort through the noise of a collapsing relationship, a world in disarray, and the ache of innocence lost. Baby Robotic is her first breath, a song that asks big questions and doesn’t pretend to have easy answers. The track was shaped alongside powerhouse vocal coach Marla Joy and producer Benjamin Thomas, who helped bring Carrie’s vision to life with a sound that’s soft around the edges but piercing at the core.
The lyrics feel like a quiet spiral. “Sitting in the backyard waiting on a way to wait / Sitting in the backyard waiting on the light to change.” A single moment stretched out into infinity, where time doesn’t heal so much as hum in the background. Later, the weight gets heavier — “If I empty out my shape tonight / I will melt into a blue plastic sorrow figure…” These aren’t just lines. They’re emotional x-rays. Carrie’s voice doesn’t just sing — it lingers, it haunts, it asks you to sit down with your own mess for a moment and breathe it in.
With Baby Robotic, Carrie Matisse isn’t just launching a song. She’s opening a doorway — one that leads into a dreamscape of poems, songs, and moments that ache with beauty and rawness. “It’s a way into a way out,” she says. And it all begins right here.
