Ever since their arrival on the international music scene in 2007, many people have shafted Justice as a slightly rough-around-the-edges clone of Daft Punk. It's a sentiment that's not completely without merit: both groups are French, both are duos, they're both lovers of disco, funk and house music, they both relish in the gurgling buzz of the "Saw" preset found on basically every synthesizer, they're both fans of CD-skipping chord progressions and so on. However, I think people fail to realize that, while Daft Punk massively popularized that particular sound, it doesn't mean it belongs strictly to them. No, Justice and Daft Punk are merely cut from the same initial cloth.
It would be one thing if Justice sounded completely derivative of Daft Punk (who themselves borrow heavily from '70s funk groups), like that gross watered-down Dr. Pepper you get at Burger King when the soda machine hasn't been refilled in a while. But Justice manage to carve out their own stellar direction - just look at their debut album, Cross, for proof. It's like listening to an epic biblical film with God spinning some fat funk behind his monstrous decks. The album gradually sling-shots all across the ages, everyone and everything caught in a thick, groovy vortex of gold-dust and thunder.
Cross is an album that has something to say. It says, "dance music can be fun AND somewhat conceptual." Even the pretentious biker-bar hipster look that both members (Gaspar Auge and Xavier de Rosney) adopt cannot derail or muddle the sheer power of their debut. Which can be a curse in disguise for a lot of artists, because, how do you effectively follow up on such greatness?
Justice make an admirable attempt with their new album, Audio, Video, Disco. I can't say that the album is perfect back to front, but I can say that, even from the outset, it serves up bombastic energy and synthesizers tossed into an abattoir. What's funny is that Audio, Video, Disco wouldn't be out of place at a progressive rock concert, what with the theatrical structure of songs like "Civilization" and "Ohio" and the multi-layered melodies of "Cannon" and "Brianvision". Through the course of the album, you get the distinct sensation that Justice could open for Rush (but not Dream Theater because they're awful) and the audience wouldn't immediately default to a "what the fuck is this?" mentality.
I also got the distinct sensation that I was watching an early '80s post-apocalyptic science fiction movie, probably starring Harrison Ford - oh, fuck it - I thought of a movie like Blade Runner. Not Blade Runner itself, but something similar to it. A cult classic that's waaay better than Blade Runner. The album seems to have this noir gospel quality that points towards rear-projected advertisements, dusty cityscapes and burning barrels. I guess "Civilization" is the prime song to target in this metaphor, with it's sliding distortion patrolling the streets and the duet of pulp-ified rebel yells, all for a future promised but never delivered.
It's important to keep in mind that Audio, Video, Disco never becomes too serious or up it's own ass, though. The album is above all groovy and intensely catchy. Just listen to the smoothy-bear hook on "Ohio" once and you'll be singing it in the shower, in the car going to work, at work, at dinner, while brushing your teeth, before you go to bed - those harmonious vocals and that playful bass line just won't leave your head. Lucky for you, it's a song you can be proud to have stuck on repeat in the old noggin.
