Revisiting the album's legacy + impact
Luke Winstanley
14:12 15th May 2023

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In 2005, Daft Punk had found themselves in deeply unfamiliar territory. Their first two LPs - 1997’s Homework and 2001’s Discovery - were towering successes commercially and critically, spawning numerous hits and changed dance music forever. However, Thomas Bangalter and Guy-Manuel de Homem-Christo, seeking a change after the prolonged gestation period that led to Discovery, opted for something more pared back and singular, relying less on cut up samples and drawing from a more limited musical palette.

In truth, it seemed like a perfectly reasonable - and perhaps inevitable - change for them to make, but the resulting Human After All is still widely viewed the same today as it was back in 2005, as an overwhelming misfire, devoid of fun and short on ideas. If it wasn’t for the exceptional, kaleidoscopic live shows that followed, their career may have ended very differently.

Whether they like to admit it or not, it’s difficult not to see Random Access Memories as a fierce response to the criticisms of Human After All, but no one really expected them to offer up a paean to the great analogue works of the 1970s - when the “album” was at its most revered as an art form. Even the promotion evoked the spirit of this particular period in music, primarily using huge retro styled billboards to provoke intrigue, and when teaser clips of ‘Get Lucky’ were premiered during SNL and Coachella 2013, the anticipation went stratospheric. Bangalter and de Homem-Christo were keen to capitalise further on this and enforced a very strict policy when it came to previewing the album, only allowing journalists to listen to it with their publicist Kathryn Frazier present to ensure it was enjoyed in its entirety from start to finish. Although, considering the pair spent the last 20 years or so dressed as robots when in public, should we have expected anything less?

Another surprising aspect of the project is in its collaborative nature, including varying contributions from disco legends Giorgio Moroder and Nile Rodgers, superstar hitmaker Pharrell Williams, indie rock royalty in the form of Julian Casablancas, longtime friend DJ Falcon and veteran actor/singer Paul Williams - Brian De Palma’s subversive 1974 musical ‘Phantom Of The Paradise’ was a big influence on the Parisians during the writing process - and at over 74 minutes, its their longest and arguably most indulgent album.

Determined to banish the cold, emotionless atmosphere of their previous record, Bangalter placed an emphasis on the importance of live studio performance and intricate, tactile production. What we were left with was a staggering masterwork of tremendous scope, executed with giddy abandon and an admirable fearlessness. Its expanded 10th anniversary edition arrives this week with the addition of various outtakes from the sessions and some unreleased demos. But exactly how does the material fare now?

"Random Access Memories sounds just as impressive, vibrant, and utterly bonkers as it did a decade ago"

The good news is that Random Access Memories sounds just as impressive, vibrant, and utterly bonkers as it did a decade ago. With the exception of perhaps The 1975, no other act since then has even attempted to deliver something this ambitious - although Matt Healy’s unwavering pop maximalism has sometimes been the band’s undoing. From the exhilarating rumble of guitar and synth blasts during opener ‘Give Life Back To Music’ to ‘The Game Of Love’ and its exquisite, shuffling groove, what’s immediately striking is just how immaculate it all sounds. Todd Edwards brings infectious energy to the ebullient 80s pop gem ‘Fragments Of Time’ and there’s a delicate melancholy to tracks like ‘Within’ and ‘Instant Crush’, the latter of which modulates Julian Casablancas’ normally distorted vocals to rather thrilling effect. As good as moments like these are, the Gallic duo’s relentless experimental pursuits are best exemplified by three suitably epic, multi-layered pieces, two of which, bookend the record.

If you were to pitch ‘Giorgio By Moroder’ to anyone it would most likely sound awfully dull, and even now, perhaps words don’t do it justice. However, the track is central to understanding Random Access Memories and its modus operandi. Across nine minutes, the titular Italian producer gives a seemingly innocuous monologue regarding his early career as a musician during the 60s and 70s, accompanied by a light, sprightly funk backing. As the track progresses, the playing intensifies, the instrumentation more varied and improvisational with each passing bar. It’s not long before Moroder announces: “Once you free your mind about a concept of harmony and music being ‘correct’, you can do whatever you want” and soon this metaphor for unbridled creativity builds tension towards a gloriously cathartic prog rock explosion.

Random Access Memories at 10

The Paul Williams assisted ‘Touch’ provides a maddeningly brilliant apex as ambient discordance gives way to a sweeping, celestial fantasia, littered with gorgeous orchestral arrangements and a children’s choir. You’d be hard pressed to find a more emotive moment in Daft Punk’s back catalogue, no doubt helped by Williams’ impressive vocal delivery and simple but evocative lyricism. “Tell me what you see / A tourist in a dream / A visitor, it seems / A half-forgotten song / Where do I belong? / Tell me what you see / I need something more” implores the singer.

Closer ‘Contact’ is undoubtedly the least complex of the three, but exudes extraordinary power nonetheless. Introduced with an audio sample from the Apollo 17 mission - a deliberate choice considering this was NASA’s final voyage in the Apollo programme - it centres around a euphoric, looping synthesiser pattern and pulsating percussion. If ‘Touch’ is the sound of Bangalter and de Homem-Christo scaling the outer vistas, then ‘Contact' is them crashing back to earth, disintegrating on impact. Interestingly, DJ Falcon, who co-wrote this with the duo, said the sheer intensity of the song’s closing moments literally blew out the speakers when they were listening back to the finished product in the studio, likening it to a band smashing their instruments onstage at the end of a show. How fitting then, that this would turn out to be their final contributions to music.

And then there’s ‘Get Lucky’, the type of gargantuan international hit that most artists could only dream of producing - in 2013, only Robin Thicke’s hideously misjudged ‘Blurred Lines’ sold more in the UK. The fact that they decided to bury it mid way in the track listing only speaks to their confidence in the project as a whole. Very much a red herring, I’m certain some fans were left feeling bemused that there were no attempts to replicate the hit’s joyous simplicity. It comes as no surprise that all the subsequent singles bombed but that didn’t stunt the momentum and less than a year later, the robots dominated the Grammys, taking home four awards including album and record of the year.

RAM received universal praise from critics at the time of its release, however, re-contextualised against the backdrop of the current musical landscape, not only does it grow in stature, but it also highlights what is severely lacking from pop’s elite artists. Here was one of the biggest acts in the world conceiving an album that yes, was spearheaded by a seismic summer hit, yet challenged the listener, took big risks and was still a huge commercial success. Its only crime is that it didn’t reinvent an entire genre like Homework and Discovery did. It addressed the failure of Human After All - which sounds incredibly pedestrian and hollow by comparison - and rounded off a remarkable career with their most ambitious, rewarding and emotional work of all.

Revisit our original review HERE

Grab your copy of the Gigwise print magazine here.

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