Random Access Memories in Retrospect

Let me take you back to 2012. It’s seven years since Daft Punk last released a studio album, and there are rumblings that a new one is not too far away. Various collaborators start to come forward, teasing their work with the famous Robots. Fast-forward to the start of 2013, and one of the most ambitious and successful album marketing campaigns ever gets underway, with teasers airing on TV, of all the outdated mediums, and mysterious posters springing up in cities worldwide. The excitement was palpable, with the internet clamouring for every tiny fragment of music and scrap of information it could get its hands on. And then, finally, after eight long years, on 17th May 2013, Random Access Memories was released.

And I didn’t like it.

I’m a massive Daft Punk fan, and I was swept along with the frenzy like everyone else. I put my pre-order in the hour it went live. I forced myself not to listen to the various leaks and official streams that were in abundance prior to the release date proper. I then endured an agonising wait of an extra few days for the CD to arrive - a payment details mixup meant it wasn’t dispatched in time for release day.

Finally, it came. I set aside an hour to just sit with a set of headphones, and ingest it. And I just really, really couldn’t connect with it. I tried to kid myself that, along with, I suspect, numerous reviewers, it was the best thing I’d ever heard. But I just knew it wasn’t.

I don’t think I was alone in this either. This is not the album anyone had predicted or expected. We’d all drooled over the Robots’ futuristic soundtrack for Tron: Legacy, and thought, “More of the same, please!” We all yearned for another Discovery, and it’s not what we got. No, what we got… was a disco album.

Say what?

Random Access Memories, more than any other album I can think of, became a victim of its own success - in a number of ways. Everyone loved Get Lucky (well, everyone apart from Liam Gallagher), but the rest of the album was just not like that first single. That was as radio-friendly as it got. But moreover, the tremendous amount of hype for RAM made it really difficult to feel anything other than disappointment when it eventually dropped - not because it was necessarily a bad album, you understand, but because it could simply never have met the sky-high expectations of those waiting for it.

I tried numerous times throughout that year to get something more out of RAM. I grew to like some of the other tracks, like Lose Yourself To Dance, as they became singles and I heard them in the context of the radio. But every time, all I could think was, “This is not how it was meant to be.”

Now, fast-forward again to a few weeks ago. You’ll notice I’ve not posted much on EO for a good number of weeks - that’s because I had this little thing called a university degree to finish up. Part of this required me to undertake a fairly sizeable study project. I won’t bore you with the details, but I essentially decided to study how music has become louder over time, and lost its dynamic range (a complex idea, but basically, dynamic range is how much a song varies, how much detail and warmth it has). Anyway, for various reasons, I decided to use RAM as an example of how to properly master and mix an album. So I went away and read articles, interviews with the album’s engineers, background… I researched the hell out of it.

And then, for the first time in over six months, I listened to RAM again.

And I really, really liked it.

Finally, I get it. Putting it to one side for such a length of time allowed me to cast aside any ill-feeling and aspersions I had. That, coupled with a new understanding of the methodology and the effort that went into the production of this thing, made me hear it totally differently. I suddenly realised that, had I actually heeded the words of Give Life Back To Music rather than dismissing them as just another catchy vocoder sample, I probably would’ve gotten it right from the off. RAM is about returning to a simpler time of music, where soul was more important than synths and snazzy production (even though, somewhat ironically, RAM does contain both of those). It’s about sidelining all the noise that comes with dance music these days - arguments about genre, about mainstream vs underground… It’s about just having a bloody good time.

I found a new angle with which to approach it, and I was utterly captivated, revelling in the depth of simplicity that every track has to offer. It’s really helped me to realise that good music is a two way street, and that sometimes, you really have to put the effort in to understand it before it’ll do anything for you. This all sounds corny and contrived, but I absolutely believe it.

When I first heard Random Access Memories and people asked me what I thought, I’d always come out with the same line: “Well, I’m not sure if I like it, but I definitely appreciate it.” Now, I do both.

*****

Anyway, why am I writing this now? Well, for two reasons. One, it’s now just over two years since Random Access Memories was released, so now seemed like a particularly good time to write a retrospective piece on it.

But two, it was spurred on by a conversation with a friend. We’re currently in the exact same position with another album. We’ve both just completed our first full listen, and both came out the other side with confusion and doubts. It’s not what we thought it would be. We both think it should be good, but is it actually?

It’s hard to say right now, but what I do know is that in a few years, I’d be willing to bet that I’ll be able to write this exact same article again.

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Alex Simpson

Writer, musician, and all-round top guy. I set up Excited Octopus. Currently, I'm on a one man team. It gets lonely sometimes. But I don't mind, because I love you all.

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