Prog and disco have never openly begged for their own hybrid, but the genres' newborn Frankenbaby is alive, whether we like it or not. Still, this beast, however grotesque, is relatively harmless-- rather than running amok in the village and snapping the necks of civilians, it only wants to "celebrate and dance so free, one more time." Just don't let it sing.
... a lot has happened for music since Pet Sounds. For instance, compare Pet Sounds to Pink Floyd's Dark Side of the Moon, My Bloody Valentine's Loveless or Radiohead's OK Computer. To these young ears, Brian Wilson's masterpiece just doesn't stand up.
Sure, the genius of songs like "Don't Talk (Put Your Head on My Shoulder)," "God Only Knows," and "Caroline No" is undeniable-- to this day, few people have come close to penning sweeter melodies. But this style of straight- forward pop music, despite its appeal on an instinctual level, has become passe and cliched. If this were not the Beach Boys, but some indie pop outfit on Parasol Records, it might make a few critics' Top 10 lists, if it didn't just vanish into obscurity.
Maybe I just haven't taken enough ecstasy and horse tranquilizers to appreciate the tinny, sampled brass ensemble, the too-sincere "chill out" midsection, or the fat drum machine beats that throb in time with my headache.
Few things are more incriminating than Daft Punk's own lyrics...
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