Daft Punk is like a drug. I cannot tell you why I like them, or even if I should like them, but I cannot stop listening to them. If someone told me a year ago that my musical tastes would be kicked in the ass by a pair of French DJs wearing space helmets, I would probably try to beat that person over the head with a copy of Music From Big Pink by The Band. Sadly, Daft Punk has pushed aside many of the chiseled classic-rock standbys and space-shifting jam bands that own my ears.
My liking for the strangely organic beats of the human-turned-robotic duo of Thomas Bangalter and Guy-Manuel de Homem-Christo started as what I would commonly dismiss to be guilty pleasure. I conveniently relied on this guise to appease the musical purists out there, namely myself. Then, without mercy, Daft Punk turned up its phasers and mixed its way right to the top of my iTunes playlist - one hypnotic house beat at a time. Now I am on the verge of buying my first turntable and mixing console. Somewhere Keith Richards is rolling over in his grave. (Well ... he has pretty much been there for the last 20 years, right?) Where did it all go so wrong?
It started about a year ago on an innocent journey to Newbury Comics. Daft Punk had been on my radar for a while, but I could never bring myself to get involved for fear of the self-persecution to come. To be honest, it couldn't have been that hard for me to resist the temptation - I did spend just short of $20 on my first Daft Punk album, Alive 2007. This is ironic considering I bought Radiohead's In Rainbows for $0 only a month or so earlier. It seemed like a slippery slope: What would come next?
Daft Punk is clearly the gateway drug to the whole house, techno, trance, whatever-the-hell-you-call-it scene. Anything that resembles a rave-like explosion gets me excited these days. Part of me is hoping that Mick Jagger, Robbie Robertson, Jimmy Page, and Jerry Garcia (R.I.P) kick in my door as a write this sentence and drag me through the dirt, and then force me to listen to Pet Sounds by the Beach Boys until I forget my name. But until then, I can enjoy my fun little Daft Punk addiction. Hey, the first step to recovery is admitting that you have a problem, right? I am already working on my Daft Punk Halloween costume.
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