Daft Punk: Helmets For Sale!?

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It’s too late now, and it’s probably been too late for the last 10 years. Daft Punk, the French electronic duo who has singlehandedly dominated the press for the last month, will be wearing their robot suits for the rest of their lives. There will never be a reveal, a coming out, or a change of tone. Frat-trance superstar Deadmau5 has, for the most part, removed the cybernetic mouse head. KISS wrote Lick It Up and removed the face paint on MTV. But even now, when Homework is a 16-year old album, Daft Punk will always be a gold helmet and a silver helmet.

If Daft Punk wanted to, they could’ve removed their uniforms in the early 2000s without much fanfare or drama. They could still headline festivals, and tour with a giant pyramid, and they could still make gleaming, romantic, semi-vintage dance music they’ve become famous for. But that didn’t happen, and the cover of the just-released Random Access Memories is emblazoned with the same severe iconography. It’s hard to think of any outfit in music that’s stayed so relentlessly dedicated to a theme over multiple decades. GWAR? Maybe The Residents?

It’s clear that Daft Punk’s aesthetic legacy, and PR maneuvers is born out of the retro-futuristic novelty, and perhaps they keep the suits on simply for purposes of reputation. But that only goes so far, the fact of the matter is that Thomas Bangalter and Guy-Manuel de Homen-Christo are almost 40, and have been hiding their public appearance for a very, very long time. The last 12 years has culturally solidified Daft Punk as a band of robots. For every show, every commercial, every photoshoot, these two men have accepted the fate of dressing up in what looks to be a very sweaty, uncomfortable outfit. That is a profound dedication, and it can’t be written off as simple frivolity. Why do they make this sacrifice? Clearly Daft Punk feel they benefit from the robots, and that might make them the most self-conscious band in the world.

It seems innocuous enough, but what would the impact be if there was a human face behind a song like “Get Lucky”? Would it feel the same? Or would be just a little less intoxicating? Is it easier to fall for something graciously pulpy and populist like roller-rink disco when it comes to us from cartoon characters? And as real life humans, is it ever hard not to blush making this music? Daft Punk’s only resistance to the goof is their masks. The faceless, nameless robots soak up all the attention and enthusiasm, and critics and fans alike start to regard Daft Punk on their own terms, in their own universe. Essentially Daft Punk wipe away any qualms of plasticity by engaging in maximum goof. Saying “One More Time” is too silly profoundly misses the point. But without the masks, it might become a lot easier. Without the masks, Daft Punk might be a hated band.

Daft Punk rely on their costumes because they rely on suspended cynicism. So much so that they might be actually terrified of ever breaking the fantasy. Superhero music needs to be made by superheroes, not men, and certainly not DJs. It’s not to say that Daft Punk haven’t created some of the most singular dance music of their generation, but instead that the public’s continued, unfettered enthusiasm about their music is directly tied to their image. Nobody can ever cut Daft Punk down for being too bright or too obvious because, honestly, what else would you expect from a pair of robots? There’s absolutely no doubt the world wouldn’t be as excited about Random Access Memories if it was coming from just a couple of guys.

But you know what? The robots are totally worth it. If we need a giddy fantasy to trust ourselves enough to enjoy recklessly optimistic music, then they’re doing God’s work. Daft Punk needed to transcend their humanity for their confidence, for their message, and for their audience. They needed to create some distance from the world, in order to bring us in closer than ever. The albums just wouldn’t be as magical if they were coming from planet Earth. Daft Punk dress up like robots for plenty of commercial reasons, but most of all, they do it for us.

Skrillex Drops the Bass in Manhattan

Skrillex performs at Roseland Ballroom in New York.
Photo: Alex Reside

Dubstep star rocks sold-out gig at Roseland Ballroom

By Rolling Stone

There is a lot to recommend about a Skrillex show: Sonny Moore’s pure rock charisma, an exceptionally well-designed light show, the raw enthusiasm of the dance-happy fans. But the main attractions are the drops, in which the dubstep star hits the crowd with a heavy, plunging bass line accompanied by wild, stuttering beats. Skrillex didn’t invent the drop – it’s been a convention of dubstep and electronic dance music for years – but he’s a virtuoso of the style, and the man most likely to bring the sound fully into the mainstream…

If you’ve never heard a drop, it sounds like this:

There is a lot to recommend about a Skrillex show: Sonny Moore’s pure rock charisma, an exceptionally well-designed light show, the raw enthusiasm of the dance-happy fans. But the main attractions are the drops, in which the dubstep star hits the crowd with a heavy, plunging bass line accompanied by wild, stuttering beats. Skrillex didn’t invent the drop – it’s been a convention of dubstep and electronic dance music for years – but he’s a virtuoso of the style, and the man most likely to bring the sound fully into the mainstream. (Britney Spears gets credit as the first pop star to include a drop in a major hit, with her smash “Hold it Against Me” last year.)

Rolling Stone