Daft Punk’s Homework is, in its pure existence, a study in contradictions. The debut album from Thomas Bangalter and Guy-Manuel de Homem-Christo arrived in 1997, right around the proliferation of big-beat and electronica—a twin-headed hydra of dance music fads embraced by the music industry following the commercialization of early ’90s rave culture—but when it came to presumptive contemporaries from those pseudo-movements, Homework shared Sam Goody rack space and not much else. Daft Punk’s introduction to the greater world also came at a time when French electronic music was gaining international recognition, from sturdy discotheque designs to jazzy, downtempo excursions—music that sounded miles away from Homework’s rude, brutalist house music.
In the 23 years since Homework’s release, Daft Punk have strayed far from its sound with globe-traversing electronic pop that, even while incorporating other elements of dance music subgenres, has more often than not kept house music’s building blocks at arms’ length. 2001’s Discovery was effectively electronic pop-as-Crayola box, with loads of chunky color and front-and-center vocals that carried massive mainstream appeal. Human After All from 2005 favored dirty guitars and repetitive, Teutonic sloganeering, while the pair took a nostalgia trip through the history of electronic pop itself for 2013’s Random Access Memories. Were it not for a few choice Homework tracks that pop up on 2007’s exhilarating live document Alive 2007, one might assume that Homework has been lost in the narrative that’s formed since its release—that of Daft Punk as robot-helmeted superstar avatars, rather than as irreverent house savants.
But even as the straightforward and strident club fare on Homework remains singular within Daft Punk’s catalog, the record also set the stage for the duo’s career to this very day—a massively successful and still-going ascent to pop iconography, built on the magic trick-esque ability to twist the shapes of dance music’s past to resemble something seemingly futuristic. Whether you’re talking about Bangalter and Homem-Christo’s predilection for global-kitsch nostalgia, their canny and self-possessed sense of business savvy, or their willingness to wear their influences on their sleeve like ironed-on jean-jacket patches—it all began with Homework.
Daft Punk titled their hits compilation with an indicator (Vol. 1) that more would be forthcoming, and it's easy to believe that in a dozen years, another dozen singles could be collected with no drop in quality. Unlike their contemporaries coming of age during the rise of electronica, Messrs. Bangalter and de Homem-Christo structured their tracks with drop-dead hooks, peerless beats that were perfect for the dancefloor or the living room, and an innovative production sense. Although Musique, Vol. 1: 1993-2005 won't be necessary for longtime fans, it boasts a few inclusions that should lure in even those who have each of the first three albums. The first reason is its opener, "Musique," actually a B-side (of debut single "Da Funk") whose basement sonics and filter-disco vocal treatment made it the best side of Daft Punk's best single. The second excellent tactic is including three of Daft Punk's greatest remixes, including the electro-shocked "Mothership Reconnection" (originally by Scott Grooves) and "Chord Memory" (originally by Ian Pooley). During their first dozen years, virtually all of Daft Punk's best productions were singles (the only exception being "Face to Face" from Discovery), and Musique is the best example why the duo was tops in electronica from the late '90s to the turn of the millennium.
