A Case for the Boxset Mentality

When I was writing this essay, I felt compelled to spotlight it with its own page on my website. The sentiment I coined in describing my love of Daft Punk’s “Giorgio by Moroder” seemed like an effective summation of how I feel about music, literature, and other art forms in this day and age. The Boxset Mentality: cherish the tactile, the time-consuming, and the thought-out.

Daft Punk’s Giorgio by Moroder: A Case for the Boxset Mentality 

In today’s world of instant, free-on-the-surface music via streaming – the bane of the working musician’s livelihood – my inclination is to champion music like Daft Punk’s late-career suite “Giorgio by Moroder.” This is a musical Hope Diamond, a shimmering dance epic that glitters with the strength of a phalanx of disco balls. There is no expense spared in its expansive production; the song is a standout even on Random Access Memories. Daft Punk’s last album, RAM is a blockbuster sendoff to the duo’s discography, paying homage to the ‘70s dance classics that inspired Monseuirs Bangalter and de Homem-Christo. The song everyone knows off of RAM, the Pharrell-featuring “Get Lucky,” rocks to polyester heaven and back, but “Giorgio by Moroder” is more esoteric and weighty. Even though the first track on RAM is entitled “Give Life Back to Music,” “Giorgio” is the real thesis statement the French duo are making.

Giorgio himself kicks things off with a monologue about his life, recounting the path he took towards shifting the musical landscape with the “sound of the future,” the synthesizer. A classy restaurant is heard in the background, underscoring the million-dollar aesthetic that powers RAM. As an amateur musician myself, hearing Moroder’s accent-blanketed memories is an elixir, inducing me to run to my keyboard and dial in a synthesizer timbre. The attention to detail on even this portion is fantastic; Moroder speaks into different microphones, each one more and more modern, as his story evolves in time. Does anyone care? No. Is it badass? Yes.

The remaining 7:13 of the 9:05 behemoth begins with a straight-to-the-point arpeggio. Supposedly, this was the first idea that came from the five-year period it took to produce RAM, in 2008. Daft Punk struck gold right away: the groove hooks and sinks the listener in an instant. This refrain gives way to a soft electric piano; you just know it’s not some crummy preset, but a real machine, with rich history and a fiery warmth. This is music made by robots?

So many avenues are explored over the epic runtime of “Giorgio by Moroder,” from snappy rhythm guitars to muted EQ work which gives way to a few final words from Giorgio: “Once you free your mind about a concept of harmony and of music being ‘correct,’ you can do whatever you want, so…nobody told me what to do, and there was no preconception of what to do.” His voice is a reminder that this nine-minute biography of a legend took decades to materialize, from history to, well, Random Access Memories being made. 

A string section breaks the tension and kicks things up a notch (in more ways than one; lord knows how much their services cost Daft Punk), before furious record scratching lends even more energy. As the song concludes, we get a nifty reverse-riser effect bringing the soundwave down to a rhythm, finally resting into the 4/4 click that Moroder mentions at the start of the track.

This piece jumps out at me today, as I am tacitly aware that the period of my life I live through now is a special one. You spend the first 20% of your life wishing you were older, and the last 70% wishing for youth once more. As a 23-year-old, I’m right in that 10% when the iron is hot. The potential and fuel in my reservoir seems like it could conduct a high-budget musical moment of this magnitude. “Giorgio by Moroder” is the track I return to the most from Random Access Memories, which I believe is the best-recorded album of all time. Moroder’s tale recounts his own solid-platinum prime, and motivates me to make the most of where I am now.

In an era of over-minimalism, AI generation, and instant gratification, why not go for a song that encapsulates what I call the Boxset Mentality? An all-out reminder that music is not only special and tangible, but a vital part of life?