Hands raised, hearts burst, spirits soared and panties, um, moistened. Yes. This had to have been thee illest music set known to mankind. Last night, DJ deities Daft Punk ripped through the crowds with an electrifying house and electro performance chockfull of all the AV theatrics their shows have become known for. Before setting foot on Keyspan Park, before begging Universal Music for a set of press passes, the legend had it that the French duo’s live concerts were the best in all the land. A chance-in-a-lifetime opportunity. That said, the bar was set miles above the rain clouds hovering ominously over the stadium.
But before Daft Punk’s Guy-Manuel de Homem-Christo and Thomas Bangalter took to the stage, there was a veritable 5-star buffet of electro and indie-dance maestros (or dance-rock, whatever you prefer) was there to get the juices flowing. With this in mind, I made my way to Coney 2 hours early to sit my ass in line and secure a spot front and center. (There’s no way I’d miss The Rapture, Sebastian and Kavinsky if they were each playing in different boroughs on the same night. Well, unless one of those boroughs was Staten Island.)
The Set-up
I was the third person in one of 4 lines itching to push through the gates. Once past, I sprinted up the stairs and ran down front to the center-most space NOT blocked by baseball netting or Budweiser carts. Although I initially coveted a field spot (which sold out mere days after tickets went on sale), I was so so so happy to have the bowl seats. It was prime people- and performance-watching territory, at least where I was. Our friends on the field could visit us at any point, the bearded beer monger would give us our own private juggling act, and we could watch people jump over the rail and sneak their way onto the field past the bumbling security guards. Not to mention the unadulterated view of the stage itself… well, at least for most of the show (more on this later). I even took a few snaps of Ed Banger records' big man himself, Busy P.
The Opening
Kavinsky tipped things off with a Nightrider-esque set teaming with darker, synth heavy beats. And although I’ve never really been into him, I thought his set was actually a lot more danceable than a lot of DJs out there… even of the house variety. Event though it was a decidedly thinner crowd dotting the field, people smashed up towards the stage within an inch of their lives to hear every note. The Rapture, one of my favorite bands, played to the same sparse audience (SURPRISINGLY! What, was everyone stuck in traffic? Is Coney Island that hard to find?), they definitely raised things to the next level, throwing out crowd favorites like W.A.Y.U.H. and House of Jealous Lovers. It’s in the works, but I’m pretty sure I broke the Guinness World Record of “Hardest dancing ever done in the seated position.”
The Altercation
Unfortunately, when Sebastian started his set, things got a bit hairy. Remember when I said I got there at 4pm, 2 hours before the doors even opened? Well, some dickhead decided that getting there at 9:30pm right before Daft Punk comes on merited a prime vantage point standing RIGHT IN FRONT OF ME. Having easily shooed other latecomers in the same manner, I stood up and kindly asked him to move aside as I had not trekked to Coney Island hours before to get an up-close and personal view of his corduroy-encased ass (but in much nicer words). Minutes past and I decided I needed to lay on a bit more Miller Light sauce from up in the stands. But before I even made my way up 3 steps, I turned around to see that same dickhead with his hands gripping my boyfriend’s collar. I immediately ran back down and got between the two. The dickhead averted his attention toward me, pushed me and well, that’s when I hit him the face with my shoe, knocking his glasses off his dickhead nose. He proceeded to grab at me and kick me in the thighs which prompted my friend to grip him by his dickhead throat. And yes, cops came, we screamed, they accused, but in the end, we had the right of way. They had to leave and we got to keep our spots. You don’t come to a concert late and think you can bully your way to the front just so you can show your girlfriend how big a package you’re packing. You never know what five-foot Filipino girl will be there to send you back to Lenscrafters.
The Legend
I don’t throw around religious references generously. But in this case, there is no amount of deference I could pay to these gods of electronic music. Their aversion to the limelight may have kept Daft Punk’s Homem-Christo’s and Bangalter’s faces out of the media, but their anonymity only fuels their mystique, making them one of the most eccentric musical geniuses of our generation (after Michael Jackson, of course).
Their showing at Keyspan Park was no exception. A huge geometric pyramid rested in the middle of the stage surrounded by a triangular grid of LED lights and screens. DP was nested inside the pyramid, decked out as always in their iconic reflective helmets and jumpsuits. And even though I had seen the same set-up at all their concerts, it was still eerily surreal. The heavy synth riffs began to hum through the stadium, “Human, robot, human, robot,” building up in tempo as a the sea of digital cameras cast their glow on the crowd. Mine included. I forgot about the asshole who wanted my seat, I forgot about the rain drizzling down on us, I even forgot about my poor broken flip-flop (RIP 1999-2007).
As soon as the bass kicked in, the crowd went insane, possessed by the guitar riffs pulsating out of the speakers and lights rippling through the stage. Keyspan Park was transformed into an intergalactic spaceship, transporting us into the Daft Punk’s supernatural world of childhood flight and fancy. Technologic’s unmistakable hook was next on deck, with the words, “Touch it, bring it, pay it, watch it, turn it, leave it, stop, format it,” flashing on the stage. And after that, Around the World, caught on like wildfire. The kids standing next to me jumped over the railing and started doing the robot on the raised platform. Guards screamed at us to get them down, but there wasn’t anything they could do. We all rejoiced as these scruffy hipster kids danced in “the man’s” face.
I had put my notebook down. I knew every single song by heart and had to let the whole world know. Da Funk, Steam Machine, Alive, Face to Face, One More Time—the list goes on and on. The great thing about Daft Punk is their impeccable 12-year history of hit record after hit record, each laden with standalone classics that appeal to electronic, rock and non-denominational music lovers alike. The only non-Daft-Punk track played was Stardust’s Music Sounds Better with You. I couldn’t have made a better choice. I mixed that very song with Around the World when I took a crash course in deejaying.
Daft Punk’s knack for making good music is almost otherworldy. Their robot movement from the late ‘90s ahead of its curve, foreshadowing the entire ‘00s decade’s obsession with all things electro and bridging the gap between the electronic and rock music divide. Past the third song, I, too, was a woman possessed. Feet firmly on the ground, I could still feel my spirit lifted atop that pyramid, as though everyone’s energy was channeled over the stage against our will. It was a trip. And if given another chance, I wouldn’t think twice before stepping through their robotic rabbit hole one more time.
---- see videos below -----
ONE MORE TIME - Daft Punk - Keyspan Park
DA FUNK - Daft Punk - Keyspan Park