There’s been an unspoken trend in pop that’s seen the genre separate into two distinct factions: morose, trippy bedroom beats, or '80s synth-pop nostalgia. One is unchartered territory that allows for its adopters to act as the pioneers of the genre subversions, while the latter requires deft mimicry that Flock of Seagulls and Soft Cell probably wouldn’t be able to replicate. Nevertheless, the '80s revival throne is as ready and willing as ever to be assumed by some intrepid sonic soul, someone looking to create the next “Take on Me,” or produce the Millennial era’s answer to Tears for Fears’ Songs From the Big Chair. No one has managed to stake a substantial claim as heir apparent to synth pop sovereignty, but when pressed to identify a frontrunner, you’d be hard pressed to find a better candidate than Anthony Gonzalez and M83.
The French electronica pseudonym for Gonzalez and company, M83 has been in operation for over a decade and a half, as an outlier in the French house music scene. While most French DJs and techno artists fall under the Ed Banger Records or Thomas Bagalter (Daft Punk) umbrellas, Gonzalez has managed to chart a path unlinked to the two French powerhouses. For a decade and a half, Gonzalez has developed M83’s nebulous sound - equal parts cinematic, ambient, and non-derivative – but commercial success was never met until Gonzalez released his first double album Hurry Up, We’re Dreaming, in 2011. The album has garnered extensive critical praise, as far as being heralded as one of the best albums of the decade. M83’s supporting gigs of The Killers and Kings of Leon, along with Gonzalez’s transatlantic move to Los Angeles, heavily influenced the album, as the optimistic and dreamlike freneticism helped propel M83 into further unforeseen synthpop adulation.
While M83 had originally started out as a conceptual and indistinct vehicle for Gonzalez to imbue his perspectives upon the world, Hurry Up, We’re Dreaming’s unprecedented success unfortunately cemented M83 as a synthpop group (at least in the public’s eye). It certainly didn’t help that the album’s most popular track was the most synth heavy track on the tracklist - the infectiously melodic “Midnight City.” In that moment, M83’s original mission statement was enveloped in flames, stoked by label money grubbing and public perception, Gonzalez was more or less forced to expel the next M83 record under the expectation of it being yet another a synthpop leviathan.
When 2015 rolled around, word got out that Gonzalez was indeed working on a follow-up to Hurry Up, We’re Dreaming (the Oblivion soundtrack doesn’t count), and eventually, it was announced that M83 would release its much anticipated 7th full length release, Junk. As part of the mandatory album release press circuit, Gonzalez gave insight into the process of creating his long awaited follow-up, stating that Junk was inspired by the cheesy pop and electronic music of the 80s, along with “old-fashioned shows” like Punky Brewster and Who’s the Boss?. For most, that answer was sufficient and fun description, nowhere remotely close to being a red flag, but for others, the nostalgia tie-in felt to be a little too strong.
Junk is M83’s first album without longtime vocalist and keyboardist Morgan Kibby, having been replaced by Kaela Sinclair, via a crowd sourced audition process. Sinclair’s addition isn’t necessary pertinent to the album in particular, but the departure of a Kibby presented a foreboding omen for how the LP itself doesn’t feel like an M83 album, to the point of which it almost feels like a joke.
Junk opens with the album’s first single, “Do It, Try It,” keeping up with the punctuated titling preferences Gonzalez made apparent on Hurry Up, We’re Dreaming. The track is, well, fun? It does sound reminiscent of “Midnight City,” and the intermittent synth explosions feel akin to another Hurry Up, We’re Dreaming track, “Reunion,” but something just feels off. It feels like Gonzalez placing M83 at a weird intersection of Daft Punk meets Neon Indian meets Giorgio Moroder.
Granted, M83 is a concept driven band, so the notion of adopting features of some titans of synth pop – along with some not so (sorry, Neon Indian) – but for the first time on Junk, M83 begins to sound a little too derivative. The album’s second track takes an interesting turn as the track maintains an anthemic group vocal personality with a grating guitar riff that would sadden the likes of Niles Rodgers (whom it seems Gonzalez was looking to emulate). “Walkaway Blues,” feels jarringly moody, which could more or less be inferred from the cringe worthy song title, but the track itself manages to sound too busy and too vacant at the same time. Effectively, there’s no conceivable substance to the track that has so much going on, as if to mask the fact.
Cleanup track “Bibi the Dog” reveals itself as Junk’s first francophilic crossover, as the familiar M83 trend of French spoken word paces the track over a bass heavy rhythm. After the first three tracks, “Bibi the Dog,” almost seems too cool for Junk, up until the odd vocoder manipulations that break any of the song’s concentration. “Moon Crystal” is a track title that might raise hopes of casual M83 listeners looking for Junk’s “Midnight City,” but instead, “Moon Crystal” is one of the finest elevator music interludes I have heard on a French pop-nostalgia record (i.e. – the only one).
On “For the Kids" vocalist Susanne Sundfør croons in a mix of Cher and Yumi Zouma, asking “when will I see your face again?” It is clichéd to feature such an exhausted lyric, yes, but on a track titled “For the Kids,” at least it comes as a surprise. Luckily, the song features another children’s voiceover a la “Racounte-Moi Histoire,” which drapes an oddly somber tone over the track, a total misdirect by Gonzalez resulting in arguably the most finessed track on the album. Then, in an instant, the listener is torn from the first truly dream-like moment of the record and placed back in the unsettled platform that is most of Junk. “Solitude” sounds like Gonzalez’s attempt at creating a brooding James Bond theme, and “The Wizard” sounds like Gonzalez’s failed Frank Ocean demo, only further confusing the Junk landscape.
“Laser Gun” gives a sneaking suspicion of being a possible “Midnight City,” replicant, with similar percussive piano, and dream allusions of grandeur – “A place where dreams are played like comic strips” – but it just doesn’t feel quite as playful, it just feels tired. The track ends with a series of cheerleader chants that sound like a straight rip from any The Go! Team album ever. “Road Blaster,” “Tension,” and “Atlantique Sud” once again sound like M83 trying out parallel sounds of a listeners’ choice of piano poppers – though “Atlantique Sud” is a lovely French ballad, just not in a M83 fashion.
“Time Wind” is likely to be Junk’s second single, namely because of the track’s high profile feature, the world’s “coolest” scientologist, Beck. It's filled with lyrical cliché’s – “The harder you try makes it harder to let go / I know enough to know it's wrong” type stuff – and the instrumental backing is almost too open to bring in any substantial conviction to the track. Junk closes with a very quiet end that would have been foreign to most M83 albums, but at this point in Junk, anything goes. Overall, Junk feels like Gonzalez trying to maintain the concept driven heart of M83 all the while creating a record that would continue to satiate the less “cultured” musical palates that made Hurry Up, We’re Dreaming such an unprecedented success. Whether or not such a notion is true or not is beside the point, Junk is not a concept album; instead, it’s a stepping stone record for Gonzalez and M83 to navigate the choppy waters that are follow-up records. Junk simply buys time for Gonzalez to right the M83 ship and continues to shift and expand upon the band’s sonic membrane.