Lyrical Analysis: “Remember The Time?” by Michael Jackson

*Remixed by Girl Talk to use Daft Punk’s production on “Get Lucky” as the backing track:

Loved this when I first heard it and immediately ran to grab the speakers out of my car.  When I got back I looped it on-repeat, even though I knew the neighbors would hate me.  I played the one minute clip for about 5-6 minutes, on loop.  Then I realized I needed to listen to it louder, so I grabbed my Senns and looped it for about half an hour.

I was absolutely in love with the song, then realized how beautiful it was to hear Michael Jackson in what sounded like brand-new material.  Daft Punk’s new “Get Lucky”, which is itself an attempt to preserve the spirit of MJ-era (and earlier) music, seems meant for Micheal Jackson’s SUBLIME vocal talent.

I thought how he had passed, but more importantly how hard of a life he had despite unconditional love for the world.  “Do you remember when we fell in love?”  Do you remember how bright the radio shined when you first heard Michael Jackson?  Do you remember how perfect his songwriting was and the colossal amount of talent he had?  Even if you don’t, here’s a chance to hear it again.

I started tearing up in my right eye, very naturally, until I caught myself.  I didn’t want to stop though, because I was crying from sheer inspiration; hearing an otherworldly, godlike presence sounding so beautifully and in accord with Daft Punk’s immaculate production.

It had been a long time since music had really hit me in this way.  I remember how this used to happen all the time, even just last year.  I missed this.  The lyrics continued: “We were young and innocent then.”  I missed music.  I wanted to fall in love again, but all new music I heard wasn’t resonating with me. I wanted to fall in love with music again, and there, while listening, it was finally happening.

This, of course, just brought on a full-blown stream of tears under each eye.  As if achieving lucidity in a dream-state, I realized this was happening: “See?  Love is real.  All is infinite, overwhelming love.  You’re listening to it.  This is it; it can happen again and again.”

Fate is merciful and sounds like Michael Jackson, singing in a voice that is post-gender; post-identity: embodying perfection in a state which transcends physicality and description.  “Do you remember the time when we fell in love?”  Yes, now I do.  Thank you for reminding me, Michael.

Lyrical Analysis: “Harder, Better, Faster, Stronger” by Daft Punk

The lyrics can be found here. You can listen to the song below:

When Daft Punk wasn’t bringing France’s touch on Electronic music to the masses, they were putting their own touch on vocal takes. Daft Punk’s singles have a character to them which feels human. The hooks are sung clear and coherent; nurtured by a funky kick you’d hear once and latch onto. But just how did robots connect into the hearts of red-blooded humanity?

While Daft Punk is made up of the humans Guy-Manuel de Homem-Christo and Thomas Bangalter, their albums are presented as music made by machines. As a robot, there is no sense pretending to be human, for one can see right through the perfection of it all. A machine designed to be flawless in calculation will never err, which is why electronic music sometimes turns people off — it’s too “repetitive” i.e. where’s the human-touch? Where is the flaw that I can relate to, as a fellow human?

The perfect response to this is found in their classic single, “Harder, Better, Faster, Stronger”. “Perfect” may seem like too strong of a word, but any dance song which lasts beyond a decade deserves the acclaim. Indeed, the song maintains particular relevance, having been heard by most of the United States after Kanye West sampled the song in his 2007 #1-charting single, “Stronger”. This is a song which repeats four lines for four minutes and by the end, it’s just as much Soul music as it is House. The song gets so heartfelt, but why? What is it that makes it so appealing?

In the beginning of the song, the lyrics are sung crystal-clear — you, as a listener, can make out every word. By the end of the song, however, the track has elevated in pitch and the robots are no longer reciting a programmed phrase — they are singing. Yes, they are singing, because they are making mistakes. There are pauses between phrases — some phrases are not even sung during “Harder, Better…”‘s frantic peak. Those four lines which the song had repeated with reassuring consistence now fade. It’s difficult to make out what’s being said; to decipher it, one has to rely on memory rather than the music itself.

Removing fractions of vocals to give the impression that this “robot singer” is flawed is, in itself, a robotic approach to making soulful music. This is the Daft Punk aesthetic: Music made not just by robots, but by well-intentioned robots; robots aware of, and trying to transcend, their robotic limitations.

So by the end, you’re in awe. What had been promised and laid before you is now gone. You long for when the song’s vocals were simple and robotic, all the while amazed at how these guys might just be humans after all. The last second of the song are two words from the line “Our work is never over” — “Never Over”. These words are sung in the same vocal style which built the song’s groove. It leaves a reminder: This feeling is never over.

Amongst the background noise, the search for something real will rarely yield anything beyond a glimpse. These robots, in all their perfection, found their voice only as the song was coming to an end. What their “voice” translated to was distortion of perfection. The more chopped-up the vocals became, the more it seemed like these robots were capable of empathy. In addition to impeccable production, this is a major reason the song sounds fresh even eleven years after its initial release (March 2001).