The Blues of Steve McQueen

Why make so much of fragmentary blue In here and there a bird, or butterfly, Or flower, or wearing-stone, or open eye, When heaven presents in sheets the solid hue? Since earth is earth, perhaps, not heaven (as yet)-- Though some savants make earth include the sky; And blue so far above us comes so high, It only gives our wish for blue a whet.                                  -Robert Frost Fragmentary Blue

Cerulean blue.
That has been my favorite color since an immaculate memory recalls the first day in kindergarten that I came across the color. It was one of those Crayola markers, the thin kind with a fine(r) tip, and it left such a wondrous curve and mark on the page. I had to know its name, where, at the bottom part of the marker -- in just as fine a typeface as the mark it left -- it spelled out Cerulean Blue. Pokémon would introduce me to Cerulean City, and The Devil Wears Prada would leave a remarkably scathing comment in discussion over the blue. I never hesitate when someone asks me my favorite color.

 - The Color Blue - 

Through André Broca's paradox, 'to see a blue light, one must not look directly at it,' we must imagine blue as being our liminal boundary, the portal between what is and what isn't, the infinite and the definite. When we are born, in such dark conditions and following Purkinje's law, blue prevails over other colors in dimly lit conditions, and is the first within the entire chromatic spectrum to be taken in. Under such conditions, one perceives the color blue through the rods of the retina's periphery (the serrated margin), while the central element containing the cones (the fovea) fixes the object's image and identifies its form. However, the fovea is the part of the eye that develops the latest, approximately 12 to 16 months after birth, leaving a total obliteration of object identification, or, more precisely, that blue is on the peripheral of or beyond an object's fixed form; that it is the zone where phenomenal identity vanishes. As Julia Kristeva goes on to state:

"This most likely indicates that centered vision--the identification of objects, including one's own self (the 'self' perceived at the mirror stage between the sixth and eighteenth month) comes into play after color perception ... Thus all colors, but blue in particular, would have a non-centered or de-centering effect ... lessening phenomenal identification ... returning the subject to the archaic moment before the fixed, specular "I," but while in the process of becoming this 'I'." 

Blue is the in-between, from this side to the other. It is the color of purgatory: reaching at the coming light, but drawing its identity from darkness. It is the color that, as humans, we are able to reflect on our in-betweenness, and separate ourselves from both the spiritual and the physical -- the ability to find the humane.

***

Ming Vase

In gracing the pages of numerous art history text, perhaps no other color has enjoyed more consideration and prominence than the color Blue. For Egyptians it was lapis lazuli which adorned crowns and could be found in all sorts of decorative cloissonné, lapis, literally stone, was either traded from Persia or dug from quarries in Northern Egypt and today's Sudan. For the East, where Blue has since represented the immortal or the eternal, it was the Mongrol Yuan Dynasty's porcelain, fired in the legendary kilns of Jingdezhen, which influenced the more popular Ming wares and in turn influenced the English in their decoration. The color blue has been a central part of every empire's creative pinnacle, the Sultanahmet in Istanbul, Turkiye being no exception. With its six minarets rivaling that of Mecca's* -- the justification of such coming from a hadith spoken by Muhammad "Verily you shall conquer Constantinople. What a wonderful leader he will be, and what a wonderful army that will be!",The Sultanahmet was seen to be the pinnacle of Islam's greatness. Now, it is more referred to as The Blue Mosque, for its splendid blue interior and overwhelming sense of the eternal.

Pablo Picasso
"Poor Family"
1902

In Modern art, the color blue denotes one of the most talked about and sought after periods of perhaps the most famous artist to date, Picasso.
Sent into depression over the suicide of his close friend, Casagemas, Picasso labored under the color for two years in Montmartre, painting some of his most well known pieces, and reflecting on the possibility that he, Picasso, may have been the reason his friend had met such an end. This was due to Casagemas' love for a girl, who, over time, favored him less and favored Picasso more. Then, of course, we have of the last century an entire new color being fashioned by artists, blending new technology, this instance being synthetic ultramarine, by the late French artist, Yves Klein. Klein went so far as to patent his 'cosmic' International Klein Blue (IKB) and it aids in making Klein's oeuvre one of the most distinguishable of any from the 20th century. However, when I think to Blue and its importance for artists, the continuance of art history, and most importantly its relevance to Steve McQueen, I think to Giotto.

Yves Klein, IKB 

                                          - Giotto - 

Paolo Uccello,
Portrat of Giotto
c. 1305

Giotto di Bondone, born in Vespignano, a small village in the Republic of Florence, in 1267 was the artist who Vasari called, "by God's favour, rescued and restored the art ... although born among incompetent artists ... after a time the methods and outlines of good painting had been buried under the ruins caused by war." Indeed, it was Giotto who, in the early Renaissance, finally made a departure from the popular Italo-Byzantine style of drawing and art and began to draw intimately from and imitate nature. However, while Vasari glosses over much of Giotto's work, especially in the relevance and importance of the Scrovegni Chapel in Padua in favor of gossip and his (Vasari's) personal hubris, it is his work with the color blue at Padua that is most important to the study of Steve McQueen.

Giotto
Arena Chapel

When entering the Arena Chapel, commissioned by Enrico Scrovegni in 1300 in penance to his father's sins of usury -- his father even being placed in the seventh circle of Hell in Dante's Inferno-- the visitor is immediately overcome not only by the grand scale of the frescoes, but a grand display of the color blue. In the dim light of the chapel, following Purkinje's law, short wavelengths prevail over their longer relatives. This is also amply demonstrated in Sainte-Chapelle in Paris, and the reasoning for why law enforcement vehicles primarily use blue lights at night. Situating one's self in the middle of the narrative, the frescoes, following the canon of Christianity, tell the story of Joseph, Christ, and with particular attention given to Mary.


However, unlike other painters before him, even his teacher Cimabue, Giotto initiated a break from the higher spheres of spirituality and the dominant modes of painting prevalent at the time. As Matisse would later comment on the meaning and expression of color in painting, that is painting's "fundamental" device, and their necessity for revolutions in the plastic arts to come about he would also remark on Giotto's exploration away from the Church:

"When the means of expression have become so refined, so attenuated that their power of expression wears thin, it is necessary to return to the essential principles which made human language ... 'going back to the source' ... Pictures which have become refinements, subtle gradations, dissolutions without energy, call for beautiful blues, reds, and yellows -- matters to stir the sensual depths in men."

Two Angels
North Italian Painter
First Quarter, 14th C.
Metropolitan Museum of Art

Beginning with Giotto, and specifically the Arena chapel, there began an exploration into the sensual depths of men and away from the sterilized higher spheres of spirituality, with some
spiritual leaders voicing distrust in the new style of painting - which began to be perceived as 'not elevated enough" spiritually, if not simply "burlesque."  Walking through any museum, one can immediately note that, as the rooms transition between ages and one walks through the portals of different epochs, there is a radical change in color and style beginning from the early quarter of the 14th century and on-wards to the High Renaissance (img). Giotto, with the color blue, was the departure for this style and gave precedence to artists later on, moving away from the spiritual, to the natural of so-called 'burlesque' as Hegel evinces in The Philosophy of Fine Arts:

"Giotto, along with the changes he effected in respect to modes of conception and composition, brought about a reform in the art of preparing colours [ . . . ] The things of the world receive a stage and a wider opportunity for expression; this is illustrated by the way Giotto, under the influence of his age, found room for burlesque with so much that was pathetic [ . . . ] in this tendency of Giotto to humanize and towards realism he never really, as a rule, advances beyond a comparatively subordinate stage in the process. . . " 

As far as painting was concerned, the Church’s original intent was for artists to elevate Christianity away from any natural or physical bounds. Giotto intended to subvert such issues, through both his oblique, no-vanishing point narratives, and primarily his re-invention of color and the artist’s palette. It was through this color that Giotto was able to question long-held conventions, while also using the color as a vehicle that shifted between the natural and spiritual worlds. It is this invention of color as a 'thing', as an actual trans-local vehicle, which is most essential to McQueen's work.


                                                - Steve McQueen -

Giotto was of course a part of the standard curriculum in the art history program at university, and I even researched his architectural pursuits, which the Arena Chapel and Il Duomo's campanile in Florence fall under. Yet, his importance in the shift between Early to High were much left out.

McQueen

The films of Steve McQueen were not a part of my primary or secondary education (for clarification, this is the British director, not the suave debonair of older racing films). They weren't even a part of my university education, regardless of how varied and incoherent it may have been. No, in the States, the two films that Steve McQueen has written and directed must be sought and trekked to see. They are not popular, collectively they've barely taken in more than $20 million worldwide, and as he has stated he "could never make American movies -- they like happy endings."

However, this British film director, who has no more than 10 short and featured works total, has won the Turner prize (the same year Tracey Emin's Bed gained so much publicity), the Camera d'Or from Cannes for a first time director -- the first British director to achieve such -- and been nominated for a Golden Lion at the Venice Film Festival.

Hunger

Hunger and Shame are the two movies McQueen has written and directed, with a third, 12 Years a Slave slated for a late 2013, early 2014 release. Hunger recalls the trials and turmoil facing the U.K. in 1981, the Provisional IRA in Northern Ireland warring and protesting against Margaret Thatcher and the British government's insistence, some would say terror, on Northern Ireland remaining a part of the Commonwealth. Bobby Sands, one of the Provos prisoners incarcerated in HM Prison Maze, led a hunger strike which resulted in his death and increased protests in Dublin and London. It's a grueling tale, told through differing narratives of prisoner and prison guard -- the humanity of both. However, Shame was the first movie I saw of McQueen's work.


I'm not reluctant to say that I actually stole the copy I found--knowing I'd never find it anywhere else when I returned to the states, and only having a few euros left on me. I'd read of the uproar and fuss so many had made about the movie, and McQueen's criticism of the Academy for not nominating Fassbender for Best Actor -- a valid criticism, although [Jean] Dujardin was destined to win. So, why the uproar?

Shame

Sex addiction. Very graphic, honest--drawn out honesty, even--material which allows us to reflect on our own humanity and taboos of sex addiction. Humanity in sex addiction? Yes. There are undertones of past incest between Carey Mulligan's character and Fassbender's -- sexual tension between brother and sister -- bouts of intense frustration with how to balance a successful life and a life-deteriorating addiction, and the begging question of: why is one man's addiction cast so darkly graven on our culture and one man's infidelity cast so light? They are all rote in classical drama, with the endless task of how to overcome or how to see differently, and all dealing with the weakness and fortitude of the human spirit.




It would be easy to stop at the comparisons and balances between the concepts of humanity, Michael Fassbender's roles, and intensely graphic situations shared between the two movies. However, while watching Hunger, I was struck by an odd atmosphere which persisted in McQueen's work and which most reminded me of Shame: the color Blue.

I'd be remiss if I wasn't reminded of this satirical Venn diagram  when I first saw the re-occurrence(s) of the color, so I did some quick initial research to find if anything had been written
about McQueen and the color. Not surprisingly, there hadn't; however, what strengthened my opinion on McQueen's affinity to blue and my desire to flesh out such a connection was something I had never hear of. It was an unfortunate blow to my art ego's pseudo-belief of knowing what happens at every large cultural institution.

 -Vondelpark -

Vondelpark at Night
Regular lights

The Stedelijk, Amsterdam's premier contemporary art museum and bathtub cum building, had hosted McQueen -- who I must point out lives between London and Amsterdam -- to create an installation in the largest public park in the city, Vondelpark. The park, which attracts roughly ten million visitors a year to the 120 acres of land -- if the amount of visitors to acres was equal to that of Central Park's 840 acres, Vondelpark would receive close to 75 million visitors a year, compared to the NYC park's roughly 38 million). It is also one of the oldest parks in Amsterdam, and gained internet notoriety for legislation that would have made it possible for couples to have sex in the park, if just out of sight of playgrounds and if the police hadn't already been instructed to prohibit such action. Just within walking distance of the Stedelijk and the larger, tourist-centric Museumplein (you know that large  I amsterdam sign? It's there.), Vondelpark is much a walker and athlete's park, as the 275 street lamps that light the pathways for any time exercise and visiting well show.

McQueen's
Blues Before Sunrise

It was these two hundred and seventy-five street lamps that McQueen desired for his work, Blues Before Sunrise. In a project which appears as much Michael Asher as it is James Turrell, the casings and bulbs for the lamps were replaced of their usual hardware -- emitting the soft, white luminescence found in most parks during evenings -- with blue lights. Why, now I wondered, was McQueen so partial to this hue? Was there an underlying meaning to this color, or was it simply how he preferred to film and have his pictures seen -- which he describes as purely intuitive, with little planning going into the shots? What hit my ego perhaps the hardest was not that I did not know of this "intervention," as the press release states, while I was studying near Amsterdam, but the ignorance I felt to its inspiration.

Although I can not comment on the atmosphere in Vondelpark during the project, there is actual meaning and a sensory experience that McQueen wanted visitors to feel in the early morning hours. The park project is titular to a Blues staple, Blues Before Sunrise, originally performed by Leroy Carr and Scrapper Blackwell, and successively by Ray Charles, Count Basie, and other Jazz or Blues pianists who took influence from Carr.

Carr, born in Tennessee and who spent most of his life in Indianapolis, actually preceded the more-mythical Robert Johnson in recordings, but it was Johnson's more fierce, raw and ultimately unrefined style that drew favor away from Carr who played in smooth melodies and a clear, expressive voice. This is much due to Rock n' Roll's, as well as today's, desire that the Blues be as primitive and back country as perceivable. So too is it the reason why we prefer our Blues clubs as dirty, low-run and off-the-beaten path as possible. It all adds to the authenticity of what we've perceived as the Blues. However, what Carr carries better than most Blues musicians, and the inspiration for McQueen's early morning park project, is his haunting vocal presence.

The soul of the Vondelpark piece, McQueen said, came from that haunting presence that the Blues and Carr's piece offer (it's also possible that McQueen used such a description from Elijah Wald's essay on Carr), and it's McQueen's atypical selection and consideration of Blues music that too translates to his unconventional use of the Blues as a color.

- Blues in Shame and Hunger -

It is impossible to discuss color and light today without thinking of James Turrell--making tidal waves in the art world at present with three contemporaneous retrospectives happening across the country in different museums-- and so it is impossible to discuss the color Blue not solely as a pacifying, majority-favored hue and shade, but as an actual thing. Or, to misappropriate Turrell's words, the Thingness of Blue.  How do we understand Blue and its relation to us--its effects on society, and how do we understand McQueen's atypical usage of the color? So often in his work, where the characters are tormented by their choices and occupations, his choice of the color highlights that theme of shared humanity--even as so much guilt is cast on their actions-- between the characters.

Considering what we have said about Giotto, the liminal pursuit of Blue, and its disassociation from norms and conventions, we could now safely approach McQueen's employment of the color as if it were more than just a setting, but an actual component or character of his work.

Thinking to Hunger, and the idea of Blue relating two opposing or disproportionate characters, there is a relationship between Lohan (Stuart Graham), the detention officer at the gaol, and Sands (Michael Fassbender). The movie starts off with Lohan, leaving for work--a good man by all accounts--saying goodbye to his wife for the morning, and checking under his car for any bombs or suspicious leads around his home. It's a while before we actually meet Sands and the movie takes up its central plot, but for the time we follow Lohan, there is a blue haze centered around his

Lohan (Graham)

character. From the uniform he wears, to especially him--solitary and posted against a brick wall smoking a cigarette. This scene is especially otherworldly, as Lohan is engulfed in a mist of blue--an incredibly somber shot--and, although silent for much of the film, is believed to reflecting, possibly questioning his work, and discerning between the nature of occupation versus personal sublimation.

Sands (Fassbender) and Father Dom (Cunningham)

There are conflicting opinions on this from different critics, where national bias holds firm – saying that Lohan is nothing more than a monster and torturer, carrying out the Iron Lady’s iron will. But one can see that Lohan is a good person by most personal accounts, and when he is captured in this blue haze, just as much as when he is wrapped in the blue officer’s uniform, the boundaries between inmate and guard are blurred and de-centered. What we are left with, between Lohan’s figure and Sands, as he is also taken in by the blue – again prevailing in dim light – is the humanity of both. This disintegrates any political or national affiliation, and, as the viewer, we are able to connect with both through their humanity.

Brandon (Fassbender) Sissy (Mulligan)

For Shame, McQueen amplifies the use of that vehicle, transitioning and drawing associations between characters, while also skewing or questioning perceptions of particular taboo subjects (sexual addiction, incest, pornography, infidelity, masculine insecurities, etc . . . ). As physical objects: the sheets of Brandon's bed, his dress shirt, his scarf, and again that haze of blue in late night runs or early morning revelations, all draw the humanity out of his character and blur out guilt. Both Sands and Brandon are the antihero of their respective dramas, and made heroes only through the humanity that they seek to find -- exemplified in the atmosphere and the objects which adorn them. 

Where Brandon's sexual addiction runs rampant, between online sex and pornography to bisexuality and a menagé trois, his desire to rid himself of such vices and deteriorates reflects upon the viewer and their own desire to be rid of vices. In making Shame, McQueen and co-writer Abi Morgan interviewed different sex addicts, interestingly finding more vocal addicts in New York (where the movie was eventually shot) than in their home of London. Having equitable comparison to drug or alcohol addiction, sex addicts often describe 'one as too many, a thousand not enough,' and overcoming sexual addiction, much like any addiction, means coming to terms with both past and present stressors, as well as societal pressures. In Shame, Brandon's stressors are magnified when his sister, Sissy (Carey Mulligan), comes to live, not stay, with him extempore. Brandon's entire, meticulously-designed lifestyle is interrupted, and, although he fights his addiction, is thrust deeper into it by her arrival. 

Brandon and Sissy

Colors change as Brandon succumbs and overcomes, his revelation and climax -- possibly a legitimate climax as critics wondered if the hooker sex scene was real -- moving from an intensely lit, bright scene into one of the darkest yet as he wonders if his sister may have finally committed suicide. Earlier in the movie Sissy teases by leaning over the edge of the subway tracks, worrying her brother. Exiting his orgy, he finds the subway is closed because of an emergency and isn't able to get in touch with Sissy through her mobile. 

From lightness--the intense, grief-induced sex scene--to darkness and Sissy's attempted suicide, there is a continuous doubt of right and wrong. We can of course say that we know right or wrong, but as we reflect on our own rights and wrongs, we are able to empathize with Brandon and Sissy. McQueen gets at this empathy through a striking resemblance of the viewers' own questions, disobedience, and personal taboos. Essentially, he is able to connect such addiction and conviction, in both Brandon and Sands, respectively, to the viewer's own vices and desires. 

Right and wrong are blurred in McQueen's films, and instead we are directed to look at the characters from an oblique perspective. We look past their initial, surface actions, and from our periphery, as the blue filters in and decentralizes the characters lives and narratives, we are able to really see the characters as they are and relate to us. Human and natural. 

***

I began this essay with a poem by Robert Frost, where he asks in a hurried verse: why do we strive to contain and make physical this omnipresent color with all its associations? We of course have a need to attach and label anything we come across, the need to critique it, the need to make it understood on such a basic level. This is all the need to consume. 

What is most telling about the color blue is that, even while it has been sought and implemented through myriad of cultures, it still escapes our focus; it still escapes our desire to control it. Only is it when we do not search for it does it present itself in sheets the solid hue, and then does it bind us together, between us as humans, rather than us binding it unto our selves. 

*- being such, the minarets as Mecca now count seven, as was ordered by Sultan Ahmed at his camii's (mosque and kulliye complex) completion.

To tell the old barber what last I endured

To tell the old barber what last I endured,
Nestor stopped to listen, my hair cut deferred.
A cock to the side, a hand on his hip,
an,"oh, this again." read subtly on his lips.

But he was cordial, hospitable, and polite,
No hurry in his voice, never was time too tight.
"It began on a late August eve,"
started the story as it took off its leave.

The dusk had just settled, collapsed into night,
And home did I pedal, hoping to beat the last light.
As the wind rushed and brushed, the side of my face
I took note, that this wasn't a race.

Slowing my speed, I came to a crawl
yet more soothing than a slow, southern drawl.
The wind did slow and turned to a breeze,
as my imagination turned to picture the trees.

What must they feel like as they turn into Autumn?
beginning their slow descent, down to the bottom.
How must they whimper and fight for their life
As each annum turns, bringing fresh strife.

They must build up big arms, broad and secure
To house and protect those whom they can't cure
A thousand boughs for each tiny creature
A thousand foes for each of life's teachers.

No matter what good be done,
A punishment is meted as the end sum.
So ends the tree, and all other arbres
No matter how strong, we all fall weak in the arms.

So how much importance, do we place on one tree?
how much importance, do we place on one to be?
For seasons, years, millenia to come
How strong we seem now, plays not when we're done.

"What a revelation!" I exclaimed to the barber,
"to be free of emotion, no pain left to harbor!"
"Yes," smiled he, bringing the mirror after snipping the last hair.
Bare, changed and left despair. So much gone wrong when I did not stoop to care.

Towards a New Hip-Hop Aesthetic; Or, The Jay Z and Kanye Effect

"In time I exist and in time I speak," said Augustine; and added, "What time is I know not." In a like spirit of perplexity I may say that in court I exist and in the court I speak and what the court is, God knows, I know not. I do know however, that the court is not time; but temporal it is, changeable and various, space-bound, and wandering, never continuing in one state.   

Walter Map, De Nugis Curialium (Courtiers' Trifles), c. 12th century. 

I am an insufferable, pretentious douchebag/asshole/fucktard (depending on who you ask), and I accept that. Almost everyone I meet I can talk, in-depth with them, about at least one genre of music or particular artist. With some people I can go on lengthy tangents about the fashion world and designers. Literature and Film is much the same. With even fewer people, possibly a handful, can I start a discourse on the art world and art history that encompasses just about everything. However, have I yet found a person who could keep up with all those subjects and interests at the same contemporary and global rate? Unfortunately, no, even though we are never truly

The supposed most NY summer photo,
 A contemporary cross-current.
Cronut, Rain Room, Citi Bike, Turrell, old Met pins
Rights to Editors of Hyperallergic.

contemporaries of our present (but that's another thing entirely). It's not expected, or even plausible, that anyone should, and asking that someone be continually plugged into such information currents is ridiculous. I just personally enjoy it. There was a commencement address delivered by a New Republic editor this past May, that talked specifically how information had become more urgent than knowledge in the 21st century and its prominence driven much by technology and social media. It's more than possible that every piece of information I've picked up is merely just that -- ephemeral, useless -- and will become insignificant to history.

However, existing at so many cultural junctions does present some unique insights and opportunities to cultural and social events that are deserving of record. The event I refer to is, of course, last Wednesday's Jay Z performance/video shoot at Pace Gallery in Chelsea. To begin, this is not a review of Magna Carta Holy Grail, Jay Z's new album which he was shooting a video for one of the songs from, nor is this a critique on whether or not Jay was actually in the capacity of performance art while partaking in the 6-hour performance/shoot. This is a critique and insight into what many in the art world do not understand, nor do many in Hip-Hop and street culture understand. Essentially, this is the two sects of of the presumably "high" (art and fashion) and "low" (hip-hop, street) cultures finally coming together.

As a preface, none of this is incredibly new as Fab 5 Freddy amply demonstrates and the rise of graffiti culture being accepted into galleries since even the early-80s shows us. To reiterate, none of this is incredibly new. (Also, to start, I identify Kanye and Jay Z as the primary progenitors of this aesthetic, although there are many, possibly more critical, artists and rappers who -- due to popularity -- remain misunderstood or under the radar.)

Ne-Yo, Kanye, and A$AP Rocky in different fashion modes

What is new, though, is the speed at which this hybridity of art, fashion, and music are coming together, and the inability of each of these three parents to really understand  how the other is and will be influencing the other in the future. Or, specifically, how to situate themselves in this new form of art. For every comment on Jerry Saltz's facebook post or Hyperallergic's critique that blatantly demonstrated the racism directed at Jay Z and Hip-Hop coming into their world, there was another Hip-Hop and youth culture source that brought down Jay because they didn't understand his references or lyrics (such as Big Ghost and others). Complex magazine last Wednesday didn't know which way to jerk it, since they're arguably one of the first to pick up on this art and fashion drive coming into their world, but presumably more to the hip-hop side since they're still relatively new to the art game. Want the old Jay? Buy his old albums, and enough with all this.

But let's first delve into some history. It's useless to point out that the internet and its omnidirectional purpose is the catalyst for all of this, so let's get into specific instances. Beginning around 2006, with Kanye's ascent, came Kanye's blog and his beginning ambitions of fashion and music coalescing together. It's no secret that 'Ye loves Paris, but his identifying of Riccardo Tisci (designer of both Watch the Throne and Cruel Summer covers, as well as

George Condo
The Cracked Cardinal

referenced in Jay's "Picasso, Baby") and Givenchy during the year is definitely one of the beginnings of such a collab. It was also a French label/atelier, Kitsuné, that initiated such a direction in 2002 with their street and club-inspired clothing lines mixed with a record label promoting some of the best new electro and indie music to come out. Kanye's work with artists -- Murakami, KAWS, George Condo, Tom Sachs to name a few -- has grown, evolving into his own design house DONDA, named after his mother, which boasts collabs with artists such as Virgil Abloh and Scott Snibbe. Now, we have street wear trade shows, like AGENDA which popped up in 2009, and street wear being one of the biggest visual locators of this present hybrid. Out are the NBA jerseys, and in are all-over print tees of

George Condo
Work for Runaway single

classical imagery or repetitive motifs designed by the more obscure artist the better.  

On the art world side of things, we have Pharrell giving a panel discussion on architecture and design (possibly, who knows, maybe, someday working on a collab with Zaha Hadid?), Chris Brown hanging around a lot of graffiti artists (possibly, who knows, maybe being a graffiti artist himself?), Jay Z being caught around Gagosian, Art Basel, and throwing out the Tate Modern and MoMA in his new track (and definitely working on some kind of holy shrine to Basquiat with Swizz Beatz), and Danny Brown blurring the lines of all sorts of shit. However, there is still a long way to go.

For Yeezus, Kanye caught a lot of flack for not having much to say on society, and presumably making an album just about himself, but a lot of the lyrics on the CD, specifically "New Slaves" are spot on about the industry he and others seek to ingratiate themselves into, particularly this verse 

There's that broke nigga racism,

That's that 'don't touch nothin' in the store,'

And there's that rich nigga racism,

That's that 'please come, n' buy more.' 

Much of the pictures and talk of A$AP Rocky and Kanye at New York Fashion Week, or Anna Wintour bringing black basketball stars to NYFW and then confirming that they were able to pick out the best outfits, only serves to show that white people and their expectations still retain some racist fascination when Blacks enter their worlds, even when invited. It's like telling a person of color that they are very articulate, and it's not so dissimilar from Dave Chapelle's "Chicken" skit in which he describes a white family avidly watching a black person eating chicken "Look at him, he loves it. Just like it says in the encyclopedia." It's no secret that white society enjoys a distanced fascination of black and hip-hop culture, as long as it stays distanced, and unless it is wealthy. And, it's no secret that much of the fashion world is still quite racist and very reactionary, the Met's PUNK: Chaos to Couture show easily demonstrating the reactionary aspect, and gallerist Gavin Brown, with some imbued bias, identifying the fashion world as a step behind the art world. However, this is all to be expected, as the next line in Kanye's "New Slaves" mentions:

"What you want, a Bentley? fur coat? a diamond chain? 

All you blacks want all the same things."

Because, as Charles Ramsey showed us, people performing to our expectations gives us the biggest delight, be it personal or work relationships, or just in general. This is not confined to just persons of color performing, but

Charles Ramsey

unto us all, as we are all performers in our modes of dress, interests, and the cohorts we choose. So, this is not to say that when a reporter writes that Charles Ramsey "falls into the same tradition of Antoine Dodson or Sweet Brown," that the reporter is the next Heinrich Himmler, but that they are simply falling into the same tradition of the white expectation of black culture. That is what Kanye is saying in the line above, and that is what makes Jay Z's performance/shoot at Pace Gallery, along with this hybrid in its formative state, so difficult for many in the art world to articulate. It is breaking the expectations and liminal boundaries the pre-dominantly white "high" culture has set for Blacks. This is best summed up by both Klaus Biesenbach's, director of MoMA P.S.1, commentary on the event and Jerry Saltz's narrative of conflicted emotions (and who I think was really the only one to understand what might be happening between the "low" and "high" culture).

***

The passage I started this entry with is from a 12th century text by Walter Map, Courtiers' Trifles, in Michael Camille's book Image on the Edge: The Margins of Medieval Art. In the book, Camille notes that the medieval court was arguably the first 'youth culture', arguing that the courtiers and individuals in the margins of the court -- as well as the monastery, church, city, and medieval texts -- secluded themselves from the rest of society in their quest for knighthood, and in the margins of medieval texts wrote and drew out their fears of the lower orders, 'subjugating themselves to this pseudo-spiritual code of ethical chivalric behavior, and in turn subjugating all other bodies beneath them." By the 12th century, this was a dream of a lost order. "While they placed others in margins, they themselves were already half there."

I do not think there would be much argument from Camille or others to say that hip-hop and the black community have often been marginalized in the art and fashion world -- relegated to, or expected to produce, forms of art seen as lower skilled, or low-brow, such as graffiti, folk art, or as it's often called --'outsider' art. Yes, of recent, there are performance artists such as Clifford Owens, Xaviera Simmons, Malik Gaines -- who wrote a fantastic dissertation on 1960s performance and the Black Transnational Imagination -- but Black performance in the art world has been much limited to either black masculinity, perceptions of the body and sexuality, and the overarching homophobia inherent in that, and not much else. 

So, to get to the point: What is happening?  

In this instance, it is basically a fascination of celebrity and, as Hrag Vartanian pointed out in a quick discussion, the Greenbergian idea of the "golden umbilical chord" via the artist -- this instance involving not only Jay Z, but Marina Abramović, Lawrence Weiner, Diana Widmaier-Picasso, et al. -- being attached to the standards and conventions of the art world even if they are trying to disrupt or intervene on it. It is why, traditionally, avant-garde

Jay Z
Olive People's "Big Daddy" frames

artists criticize the tastes and styles of the bourgeois, but are indebted to such captors for recognition and financial support. So, even though some may see Jay Z as critiquing or playing the art world, in one of the most trite ways possible, he is still confined by its limits and what people expect of the artist. This is all very easy to see, and this surface critique is what has mostly circulated over the art and music spheres. 

It's a bit obvious to point out that for Jay, much of this was just a financial decision -- he's a businessman more than a rapper these days. However, removing all influence and affluence, we have a black man with no MFA or visual arts pedigree, besides admiring artists from Basquiat and Twombly to Serra and Picasso, coming into one of the largest and most renowned galleries ever and conducting possibly the biggest, or at least most recognized, art event of the year, and having it broadcast on all channels -- not just those unto the arts community. This is symbolic of a marked shift in the art world. Yes, it's because of who it was, in that there is no doubt, but don't think for an instant that occurrences like this won't become business normal in the future as millions of youth from all sorts of groups see what is possible and afforded to them, now (and this is also not saying that youth culture must draw inspiration from Jay Z and others in order to be inspired by art and fashion).

When I think on this occurrence, I am reminded of a recent economic report on high-achieving, low-income teen enrollment to colleges. The study found that high-achieving, that is top 10% on the SAT, and low-income, that is a family income less than or equal to $41,472, students were less likely, or totally unlikely, to apply to highly-selective colleges, even though such colleges afforded the student less to pay out-of-pocket. The New York Times

summarizing that, "many top low-income students instead attend community colleges or four-year institutions closer to their homes, the study found. The students often are unaware of the amount of financial aid available or simply do not consider a top college because they have never met someone who attended one, according to the study’s authors, other experts and high school guidance counselors." It is not only the failure of such selective colleges to attract these students, but the overall failure of a system that does nothing to alert such students of their possibilities and opportunities. 

The art and fashion worlds are of a similar failure; however, this hybrid is and will be changing that for those millions of youth.

Although only nine years and less than a half mile distance separated the two, Jay Z never really knew about Basquiat growing up, even during the latter's blazing ascent of the mid and late 80s. In his book, Decoded, he mentions that they weren't a part of the same crowd growin' up, and going into Manhattan -- to see the museum's or whatever -- is something one only did on school trips. Now, more than 20 years past the artist's (Basquiat) death, he's not only famous for his art, but celebrated for his infamy, and as Jay Z astutely figures in his book, Jean-Michel was the quintessential hip-hop artist; obsessed with fame and the mythical status of celebrity, a poet of

Jean-Michel Basquiat, Charles the First,
1982
For reference, this is the 'yellow Basquiat'
that Jay Z owns.  

stories and fables mixing in all of the cultures and identities that formed his being, and very d.i.y. So, when he raps about Basquiat and other artists such as George Condo, it's inexcusable to say that Jay Z has fallen to the trap of celebrity and fashionable taste. While economic capital often follows cultural capital -- some may call it gentrification -- cultural capital also follows economic capital -- one reason one may see so many seniors or older people invested in the art world, and is much the reason that Jay Z and other rappers have turned towards artists and fashion. 

However, this is also my biggest problem with the shift in cultural attitudes, as I fear that in all the good that they are doing for the future of hip-hop and the art and fashion world, they are also not doing enough or falling prey to the typical élitism of the art world. By most standards, this is hip-hop de rigueur with the "Look what I got, n' fuck you if you comin' for it," mindset. Any who actually stoop to follow my inane news feed would be able to tell you that I had a pretty big problem with Jay Z's "Picasso, Baby" before even the performance/shoot happened -- hell, even before MCHG fully released I was questioning the song and its consequences at large. This is looking past it just being a bad song (the beat is alright, but some of the verses be runnin' on all Ls), because throughout the entire song, Jay Z just raps about artists' work he owns or the events he and Bey visit. This is a great direction coming off of Watch the Throne and the so-called luxury rap, 

... but it also just comes off as extremely tasteless, ill-educated, and as a gross attempt to be 'in'. What is most frustrating about that, is that I know Jay Z is not tasteless, ill-educated, or bearing any reason to feel 'in', and that song does him a huge disservice in those departments. However, even worse is the disservice this offers to his fans, and this disservice extends past Jay and Kanye, encompassing almost every rapper whose become invested in this new direction for hip-hop. 

My biggest complaint with Kanye in the past has been his collaborations with artists only after they've become a safe bet. The Louis Vuitton Don working with Murakami? Only after Murakami produced the Superflat designs with Marc Jacobs. Workin' with KAWS? Only after dude had worked with different Japanese designers and started OriginalFake (although the brand has now closed up). Condo? Condo was big even in the late 80s/90s. Point being, Kanye hasn't been doing himself, or his fans, any big favors by working with or collecting different designers and artists only after they've become a fashionable art world name. The same goes for Jay Z, everyone's favorite

Bishop Nehru

correctional officer Ricky Rozay, Pharrell, and others. Although, none of these individuals is especially old, they could definitely be seen as the old-guard of rap as a lot of rappers, such as Joey Bada$$, Bishop Nehru, or even this kid William "Glasspopcorn" Neihberghall (applying for Hans-Ulrich Obrist's new grant, and who really needs to work on his lyrics) are gaining popularity at the age of 16 or 17. Earl Sweatshirt when he wrote "Earl"? 15. But, a factor that has always remained in the Old Guard, regardless of who or what it is, is its complacency and conservative practice in attempt to maintain power or influence. 

So, while such an old guard may be breaking through its traditionally liminal and marginal bounds, and seeking new direction in an old court, there is already discontent and upheaval in their own court. However, it is because of this break and the achievements of Jigga or 'Ye that future rappers, either those gaining popularity now or those yet undiscovered, will be able to make a real difference -- sans MFA, sans pedigree, but with real artistic thought and critical approach to the hybrid they were raised in. 

In ending, I'll wrap up with a final passage from Camille's Image:

"... in 1323 the Parisian scholar John of Jandun describes how such strange and exotic merchandise (delicatis et extraneis) was sold at Les Halles, and how he is unable to give their names in proper Latin, propria nomina latina. ... Polysemous and multicoded, the city was the site of exchange, of money, goods ... creating a shifting nexus rather than a stable hierarchy. Each social group possessed 'its own concept of urban space just as the different interests of the city compete with each other for control of the social surplus'. Art was a crucial outlet for that surplus, with Paris becoming the first art centre in Western Europe."

Although Paris is a ghost of its former artistic nexus, now more a superficial scion of the modern art world, the Internet has given rise to such a shifting, multicoded, omnidirectional nexus, and this broadcast to youth culture of what can be achieved only aids in destabilizing a stale hegemony in the art and fashion world. It's old hat that the art and fashion world are much behind in technology (Hello? Vogue? Zara? H&M? Welcome to the Internet) and the real Old Guard of the art world being ill-adept at using the Internet (however, artsy.org is on its game). The surplus is now in the Internet, myriad of new musicians every day will show you that, and art -- in all its mediums -- will of course be a crucial outlet for that surplus, but this time, through anonymity engendering equality, there will be a greater chance for artists and rappers on the margins to be accepted into a much decentralized court. 

Daft Punk: A Review and Brief

The exact moment I fell in love with Daft Punk, and successively all music, art, fashion, and creative outlets, was December 4th, 2007, a Tuesday night. Sound Shop, the store I bought the Alive 2007 CD, is no longer there, and the store that I bought Homework from a week later -- a vintage album store that was to close just a few months after my visit -- is no longer in its place, either.

The drive between Edgewater Mall and Prime Outlets, by interstate, takes approximately twenty, twenty-five minutes. It was heavily raining, and I'd only heard of Daft Punk a week or two earlier due to the success of the Harder, Better, Faster, Stronger video of two girls filling in the lyrics via use of their bodies. I put in the CD about five minutes into the drive down Pass Rd., right near the vinyl shop I'd become familiar with later, and the opening screams of fans at Le Bercy in Paris filled the car. It takes a full minute and twenty-four seconds before anything happens -- a long intro of Huuuumannnnn, Robot, Huuuumannnn, Robot, just volleying back and forth before Robot Rock comes on. 'What the fuck is going on?' echoed through my head. I had enough and switched it to track two, Touch it/Technologic.

A robotic female voice -- later I'd find it was the sample from Swizz Beats' Busta Rhymes' track "Touch It" -- came on with the initial beat. "Okay, better," I thought. It's about forty-five seconds that a shifting bassline propels forth and the same robotic female voice is repeating "Fuck it, fuck it, fuck it, fuck it, fuck it, fuck it .." for at least twenty seconds. I was already starting to love it. And then the robotic female voice and beat disappear, transitioning to a much less comforting, creepy robotic child's voice (it was creepy before I saw the actual video).

I didn't know the song, Technologic, but I recognized it had some of the same lyrics from Touch It and it built slowly. At this time of my life, I had no clue what a sample was. But, after the second sixteen bars of the creepy robot voice, all instruments fade and the voice says "Technologic" -- break -- "Technologic."

At that second iteration of the robot voice saying "Technologic" the song just goes fucking crazy for the first time in the show/cd. If you're looking for a drop, look no further. I was on the interstate, then, and I danced and head-banged in my car harder than I'd ever danced and head-banged in my car (I didn't dance as hard until I heard LCD Soundsystems Dance Yrslf Clean). I'd never head-banged in my car. At that moment, I decided "Fuck everyone, fuck everything, go into the arts."

In that moment, an entire new world opened up to me. Never before were there any favorite bands or groups; I really knew nothing about music, even less about art. It was a week later, with the purchase of Homework, that I listened to the track Teachers. Names like Dr. Dre, Jazz ... were basically all I could distinguish. Bryan Wilson? Green Velvet? Paul Johnson? who were these people? I quickly found it wasn't just enough to like an artist's music, I also had to find out everything about them and equally all about their influences. Daft Punk's influences varied, so my influences varied.

This album, Random Access Memories, is about those influences and the necessity to revisit one's origins in order to figure out how to move ahead. At times I'll recognize some guitar chords that would seem at ease on a Beach Boy's record (Brian Wilson), or through a lot of the album I could swear I'd be listening to an old Motown record (Pharrell is great, but a number of these songs were made for Michael Jackson -- which the MJ edit of Get Lucky amply displays). However, what should be noted from the start is this: Random Access Memories is not a typical Daft Punk album. I'm okay in saying that no track on this CD sounds like classical Daft Punk. I had read of similarities between Discovery and RAM, which I think I can note in a few tracks, but if you're looking for that raw, hard-hitting house from Homework or the groove and melodic consistency of Discovery you'll find almost none of either here. There are dance tracks, there are head-banger tracks, and there are quite a few just down-tempo funk tracks. But, like Human After All departing harshly from the sound of Discovery, RAM departs quickly from what so many have tried to pin-down as that wonderfully approachable Daft Punk sound.

"So many." That's probably the best description to apply to fans, rumors, images, threads of forum discussion, and the general popularity that has risen around Daft Punk since their last tour. Daft Punk was big before that fateful night in the Sahara tent of Coachella 2006, but like Basquiat, they first became "famous for their work, then famous for being famous, and then famous for being infamous." So many have now heard of  Daft Punk and that legendary tour, that it grossly outweighs the actual number who were so privy to even see them on tour.

Daft Punk's infamy can be almost directly related to the growing popularity of social media and the event as spectacle or social climate -- where images are now used as a pseudo-currency to depict what you have or done in life. The videos and amazement at seeing Daft Punk's pyramid and accompanying stage design was unlike anything anyone in the 18-35 demographic, the range who were most using the internet, had ever seen. Now, one only has to go to a Wolfgang Gartner, deadmau5, or Kanye concert to see a Martin Phillips or Es Devlin stage design. It has become common practice to have a memorable stage and light design. Further, the point of departure for electronic music's now welcoming and warm reception to the general public could be noted as Kanye West's Stronger which heavily sampled Daft Punk and was released in 2007, a year after Daft Punk performed at Coachella. Guess who also performed that year, 2006, on the main stage, and is barely remembered to have played? Kanye West. Stronger remains to be West's number one selling single, with over five million digital copies sold, and Daft Punk could be seen as the link to much of Kanye's "French" fascination and the Ed Banger crew (yes, yes, Kanye we all know you called out Riccardo Tisci and Givenchy before most, but you did interrupt So-Me at the European MTV Awards and then use him for your Good Life video.)

Lastly, a personal tally of Coachella, Bonnaroo, Lollapalooza forums (before every festival was incredible, another production of social media and an over-saturation of music sources) counted Daft Punk at the top of each list where the original poster (OP) asked "Who do you want to see most at this year's 'Chella/'Roo/Lolla?" So, to say that the anticipation and search for even the most minute hint of Daft Punk was met without abandon, would be an understatement.

The marketing for RAM was deftly aware of this and since January, or almost a year if you count all of Nile Rodger's dropped hints, there has been a sly marketing maneuver of endless hype to lead up to the album. For many keeping up with each individual bit, this has really only served to defer interest until the actual release date, or whenever it was finally leaked (for an actually secret, sly release for an artist today, look no further than Jai Paul). Today was finally that day.

The Internet can be a magnificently beautiful display of the social collective conscious -- do not bring Noetics into this discussion, though -- and around 2 p.m. EST, that display came to a head. The album leaked (of course it did!) and at first reception it's proved much better than HAA, which also leaked but to a very cold reception. So, without further ado or digression, let's move into the album:


Track 1: "Give Life Back to Music" 
For a lot of tracks on this album, I have a problem with the titles. They sound just as kitsch and ambiguous as the album title, cheesy, even. This opening track leads in with dazzling guitars to a down-tempo disco beat   with robotic vocals cycling through the words "Give the music back to life, give life back to music." It's almost a plea, or a statement for what this album will try to do, and the intermittent soaring guitars -- sounding straight out of an anime fight scene -- push forth a really grand feeling when getting into this album, "Like, fuck ya, let's get back to some music!"

Track 2: "The Game of Love"
.... and then you're dropped into this intensely sobering love ballad. This track is like if Veridis Quo or Voyager had been made for bad porno. I don't hate this track, but it's a very weird song, and again the title. It wouldn't be a bad Sade song, but the robotic vocals and awkward synth arpeggios hold this song back from being romantic at all.

Track 3: "Giorgio by Moroder"
Who knew of Giorgio (Hansjörg) Moroder before this album gained hype? I sure the fuck didn't. Well, this track knows that and introduces you to him and his importance to electronic music for a good bit of the opening section of the track which finally leads to him saying ".. and then I put the click on the track ... and I knew that would be the sound of the future." Well, it was, and the song delves into that click, succeeded by classic Daft Punk synths reminiscent of the Tron soundtrack and Short Circuit. It's a groovy track that gets you back after Game of Love, and feels like House music could be returning.

Track 4: "Within"
... and then you're dropped on your face by this slow piano ballad, with a deeply introspective vocoder wondering who he is. However, this song, unlike "Game of Love" is a good song. Slow and sensual, even though it's a robotic voice echoing towards you asking you to come along and help him look for someone, who can tell him who he is. So far, I enjoy the theme of this album -- aiming to get back to music, circling around its faults, and this roller-coaster ride that has been the history of dance/house music.

Track 5: "Instant Crush" ft. Julian Casablancas
Picking the tempo up again, The Strokes frontman is the first vocal feature on this album, and although restraint on the vocoder usage might have been needed the track is going to be ripe for remixes. It's more of a slow rock song than anything, but beautiful synth, vocal, and guitar passages lend itself to this song. It's a shoegazer track, but as the energy picks up towards the end you feel your feet and head tapping to the beat and really starting to feel the dance energy this record contains.

Track 6: "Lose Yourself to Dance" ft. Pharrell Williams and Nile Rodgers
And that's a good sign, because this song is dance ready. This song is all disco, and the first time Pharrell sings "sway, sway, sway ... lose yourself to dance" you're finally ready to jump up and dance. Clocking in at nearly six minutes, it's a long dance track, but I was wanting to dance to its entirety, with each drum fill opening up the track to more dancing. If you didn't get it already, this is a dance track. Please be able to dance (those who consider pumping your fist into the air to be dancing need not apply).

Track 7: "Touch" ft. Paul Williams
Holy fuck if you thought MGMT's Siberian Breaks was an experimental track then you haven't heard anything. This track is all over the place, and the initial atmospheric synths match with a reverberating, airy voice growing increasingly more insidious saying "touch ... I remember ... I need more." Thankfully, this all turns immediately into Paul Williams singing into a confessional which evolves into a quick tempo-ed, glorious disco melody with trumpets and all, and breaks back into the atmospheric synths and vocoder now singing about holding onto whatever you have if love is the answer. It's a sentimental message to the album and other artists, that ends in a slow choral section backed by drums and those same flying synths.

Track 8: "Get Lucky" ft. Pharrell Williams and Nile Rodgers
The track we've all heard and tempted with the past two months approximately. I hope you had your break from dancing during "Touch", because fuck you you're dancing to this song again ... no matter how many times you've heard it. Yes, the Michael Jackson edit and Daughter cover were incredible, but this song -- similar guitars to "Lose Yourself to Dance" and all -- keeps you dancing. Pharrell singing over the disco track  "We've come so far, to give up who we are, so let's raise the bar and our cups to the stars" is sure to be one of the anthems of the summer ... along with "we're up all night to get lucky" and other vocal passages. The break that finally comes with Daft Punk singing into the vocoder brings the pace up even more, and just serves to remind you're not to stop dancing.

Track 9: "Beyond"
So, you're flying through space, or at least on one of those Disney space rides, and you're exiting hyper-space -- that bright white light that comes just before you exit hyper drive is glowing brighter. This triumphant symphony is playing all around you -- the wind, strings, brass sections all cheering you on in your adventure. Then you exit hyper-drive, or because Hans Zimmer just decides to be a killjoy, and you're left in deep space, just floating around with Discovery synths putting you back at ease for the rest of the song. Beyond is a good title for this track, because for the rest of this track, and for the next few songs, you're just left in space and beyond anything you might recognize as a Daft Punk track.

Track 10: "Motherboard"
You're still floating through space, just peacefully exploring in some tranquil soundscape, but now Radiohead's 15 step starts to mix into your headphones for some strange reason. It's all a strange melange of drum patterns and synths, that is abruptly interrupted by some acidic distortion and vuvuzelas echoing over a jungle beat. The song is completely lost in a void for a moment, before coming back to the original memory of what this track was. It's a bit of a drum-and-bass track, just Daft Punk's take on it.

Track 11: "Fragments of Time" ft. Todd Edwards
I hope you're not expecting the catchy tunes and vocals of Face to Face to rise back up with Todd Edwards. Nope, that space ride you just took went back in time to some soft-70s rock. Give this song to your parents, they'll probably listen to it. Todd Edwards keeps singing more about his youth, somewhat like Bryan Adam's Summer of '69, but it ends in a spectacular Aerodynamic-guitar riddled section that picks up the drums and turns the song around for a bit. That is before Todd Edwards is determined to remind you why he belongs back in time.

Track 12: "Doin' it Right" ft. Panda Bear
This song is going to be the one everyone likes. Turn the volume up after those last three songs sank your ass back down and had you wondering what the fuck was going on like Electroma did. This song is also going to be the biggest boost the new Animal Collective album gets, as it releases a week after RAM does. Let's just face it: This song is fucking great. I ran fucking fast to this song today, and as Panda Bear sings over a partially removed drum section, the beat just builds even more as the background vocals keep echoing over and over "everybody will be dancing and be doin' it right." This is the most modern dance song on the record, and I agree with one Mixmag review saying that this is basically a huge favor to Animal Collective getting to sneak one of their songs onto one of the most awaited albums of the year. It's fucking great, and that bassline is sick.

Track 13: "Contact" ft. DJ Falcon
DJ Falcon is the shit, and has worked a lot with Thomas Bangalter on Roulé releases. This track starts off slow again, a voice-over speaking from Space, and somewhat scaring you that you'll be falling back into the slower songs of before. Fear not! It's not House-y, but it is a fucking headbanger. Distorted synths welcome you as the beat finally builds up, and in an ending that might be more easily found on a Death from Above 1979 track, the drums just keep going before tearing straight into a fantastic arrangement of everything that has made this album great. When you think the beat is about to drop, it just keeps going, higher and higher, sending you into fits. It's all reminiscent of the Prime Time/Brainwasher/Rollin' n' Scratchin' mix they did on the Alive 2007 cd, which was fucking intense and sounded like a death march.

This album ends with the same intensity that I found on the Alive 2007 live-album, even if the very end is a bit of cliffhanger and leaves much to be answered (read: answered, not desired). However, the only part of this album that is classically Daft Punk is the part that leaves you going "I have no clue what's going on or coming next." It's a very surprising album, probably their most experimental, and I've really enjoyed it. I won't listen to each track on replay, but there are definitely quite a few that I'll throw up there with the songs they've become renown for. Indo Silver Club was a sleeper on Homework, that really showcased their ability to DJ and produce great House music. Random Access Memories, I think, showcases their ability to not only be great musicians and producers over a variety of music styles, but further notes their talent in indicating not what will be but what can be.

Random Access Memories is what dance music can be, and, in typical Daft Punk fashion, exemplifies it well.