Album review: ‘King of disco’ Giorgio Moroder makes a welcome return with Déjà Vu

Moroder proves he's still got it this album featuring collaborations with big names in pop.

Giorgio Moroder's Deja Vu. Courtesy RCA Records
Powered by automated translation

Déjà Vu

Giorgio Moroder

(RCA)

Four stars

Haven't we met before? It's a question you'll keep asking yourself if you spend any time with Giorgio Moroder's fabulous new album, Déjà Vu, a 40-minute riot of retro electronic dance music. Moroder was once the king of disco, propelling Donna Summer to global domination in the mid-1970s with Love to Love You Baby, I Feel Love and a string of other million-selling hits.

If his collaboration with the late Summer was fruitful, his writing and producing credits with Blondie (Call Me), Irene Cara (Flashdance ... What a Feeling), The Human League's Philip Oakey (Together In Electric Dreams), Berlin (Take My Breath Away) and others made Moroder a massive name in the mid-1980s.

And then he lost his golden touch. His 1988 project to manufacture an all-girl band failed and his equally ill-advised foray into the supercar business tanked spectacularly. Indeed, the Cizeta-Moroder V16T was the most striking, least-successful car you’ve never heard of.

After that, not much was seen of the Italian until 2013, when he talked his way through Giorgio by Moroder on Daft Punk's Random Access Memories (more of them later).

Two years later, he’s back in the limelight with his first album in 30 years – but can a 75-year-old still swim successfully in the sea of pop?

Well, that’s not really a fair question. Moroder still loves dance music and knows how to fashion an infectious tune, although his sonic cues sound like they owe more to Studio 54 than they do to, say, Space Ibiza. What you do get, though, is a curiosity shop of collaborations with Britney Spears, Sia, Kelis, Mikky Ekko, Matthew Koma and more.

Charli XCX and Kylie Minogue deserve special mention here. The former's featured track, Diamonds, is a typically punchy vocal performance, while Minogue's Right Here, Right Now is the perfect fusion between pop princess and disco king.

Foxes also features, the English singer-songwriter cropping up on Wildstar, a glitter-filled retro disco tune that'll stay wedged in your mind for days, not least for Moroder's adventures with a vocoder.

There's the odd wrong step, too: 74 is the New 24 is as awful as its title suggests.

Throughout, it's Daft Punk's sound that wanders around as if crashing the party. Their influence turns up in the album's opener, 4 U With Love, there they are again in Déjà Vu and again in La Disco.

All of this is a constant reminder that if Moroder once represented the sound of the future, that was all a long time ago. Even so, if Déjà Vu isn't quite cutting-edge, Moroder shouldn't be consigned to the past just yet.

nmarch@thenational.ae