Who would have thought that Nile Rodgers jamming with a team of French robots would be the touchstone moment of 2013? Or maybe it should not be surprising that Daft Punk provided the album of the year and ended up programming themselves into all of our random memories of that summer. It was the album of a lot of people’s summer, and it definitely was the soundtrack of mine, which makes it doubly bittersweet to hear a year later. Nile Rodgers’ brand of funk is chic all over again, and Daft Punk’s idea of making electronic music that sounds organic harks straight back Kraftwerk and Eno. It seems so perfectly of the now that a sincerely sad robot can convey more emotion in a few repetitive grooves that an entire stable of flesh and blood pop singers emoting insincerely. And where, the question begs itself, does the line between flesh being and sad robot really fall nowadays? We are moving inexorably into a digital new age, a new frontier that may make bits of our lives easier, but does nothing to squelch our existential dread. Pharrell Williams, the flesh being on vocals, said something about envisioning this as a potential long-lost David Bowie song, and he’s absolutely on point with that. Not just because sounding like a Let’s Dance outtake is the single coolest thing to be now, but because the fundamental alienation being a flesh being in a robot world, or a sad robot in a flesh world, or an alien being in any world, is exactly the existential torch David Bowie has been carrying for decades.