Softer, Worser, Slower, Weaker
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Sunday on Feb 21, 2008 at 5:47 pm
It was mid-summer when I heard that Kanye West had sampled Daft Punk’s 2001 hit “Harder, Better, Faster, Stronger” and my reaction was to groan miserably. I don’t need to explain myself when I say that Kanye West is the whiniest motherfucking “rapper” ever to show his smarmy goatee; you know of what I speak. Given any opportunity to stand before a TV camera and cavort like an attention-starved grade-schooler, Kanye has repeatedly demonstrated that his delusions of grandeur are as precious to him as his pretty, pretty face is.
Enter the French musical duo Daft Punk. They’ve been pulling off feats of moderate-to-great musical skill for years now, and most recently behind literal masks of anonymity. While their music may not always delight me, like a few non-American musicians of some renown (see: Kylie Minogue), they have always embraced the science fiction - and that, dear reader, is a endeavor I can get behind.
“Harder, Better, Faster, Stronger” manages to avoid being just another insipid dance tune, but by what margin I cannot say. I am struck confused by every fresh listening; what makes it so appealing? Is it because it could be the Robot Anthem? Or is it just because my mind fills in the members of Daft Punk themselves, bedecked in psychedelic THX-1138 finery?
None of this, unfortunately, is pertinent to my rant. You see, when Kanye West decided to butcher “Harder, Better, Faster, Stronger” he also decided to take on the culture of the song as well. I’ve forced the sluggish and talentless ejaculate of his song (deceptively titled “Stronger”) from my mind only to suffer the new trauma of his presence at this year’s Grammy awards, Daft Punk in tow.
One could kindly call his performance “inspired” by Daft Punk, the stage covered in geometric patterns, laser strobes, and every Tron effect achievable under the circumstances. Or one could see it for what it was: the temporary appropriation of my culture. And while I acknowledge that Daft Punk is as much to blame (was it money that drew them along? fame? Kanye’s supple and moisturized skin?) I still wait by for Kanye’s inevitable discard of all that he has now used to line his pockets.
This is common thing in the science fiction industry. One must only dip a single pinky into the wealth of talent here and then avoid all credit where all credit might be due. TV shows like Lost fall squarely into the definition of a scifi program, and while some mention of this occasionally winds its quiet way into media commentary, the TV stations themselves would never imagine such a reference, lest it should forever shame the viewers from watching. Don’t get me wrong: for the most part everything is coming up Milhouse for scifi, even as it lumbers awkwardly into the mainstream as a chubby programmer-nerd might suddenly experience popularity. But I can’t shake the feeling of high school every time a heartlessly cute jock tried to cajole test answers from me. They’re sweet to you when they need you, but the moment their unearned passing grade is delivered, you’re back to wiping loogies out of your hair.
