When Daft Punk’s Discovery came out I was a frittering away my higher education in the sort of low pay, low responsibility job that fresh graduates shouldn’t be enjoying nearly so much. Discovery became the soundtrack to days behind a till in a videogame shop and the dash to get to happy hour in Yates’s before beers went from dirt cheap to just cheap (I swear that GAME uniform saw more nights in the pub than Peggy Mitchell). The album then travelled with me to Japan where I worked for notorious rip-off language school NOVA and while I was becoming a barely competent English teacher there was plenty of opportunity to wail One More Time in mercifully air-conditioned karaoke rooms. More recently The Wheels on the Bus and Raa Raa the Noisy Lion have become much more common in my home but I still put Discovery on occasionally and indulge nostalgia for my journey from Clerks-wannabe shop assistant to neon-lit karaoke master.
But Daft Punk have not left my life completely. Funky ubiquity Lucky was released around the time my son was born and desperately singing it to calm the wriggling life in my arms is a very precious memory (I am sure he will love hearing about the inappropriacy of a lullaby where smug fashionista Pharrell Williams sings about his love for skirt chasing)! Random Access Memories is the album that features Lucky and I can’t stop listening to it. I will leave a full review to experienced music journalists but it is an emotional and physically electric blend of synthesisers, funk, strings, vocoders and even a little spoken word, ranging from melancholy funk to classic dancefloor-bait with even a whiff of show tunes in one place. Thankfully the whiff is of careless speakeasies and not dockland pubs. Whether this album will come to spark rosy memories of life as a 35 year old family man as Discovery does of a green 21 year old only time will tell but right now I am loving it.