M83: Not Just the Guy Who Makes “Big-Sounding Music”

It’s late afternoon on a Friday, and M83’s Anthony Gonzalez is sitting in his dressing room at Terminal 5 in New York. The 35-year-old electronic pioneer offers me a drink from the mini-fridge before grabbing a bottle of juice for himself, and we sit facing each other on a pair of marshmallowy black sofas, listening as his opening act, Shura, sound-checks a few floors down. As we make small talk (how’s the road treating you? What do you plan to do when you get back to Los Angeles?), the conversation naturally shifts to the mixed feedback he received from his most recent record, the one he’s been touring for months: Junk.
It’s a reasonable place for our talk to go, especially since Junk, released just last spring, pivoted so sharply from its enormously successful predecessor, 2011’s Hurry Up, We’re Dreaming and its ubiquitous lead single, “Midnight City.” Where Hurry Up reveled in ‘80s influence (flashy synths, oxycotin-releasing melodies, tight and furious electronic drum fills), Junk comes off as a more scattered affair, still enmeshed in slick synths and purposefully retro flair, but sounding more like the unrestful comedown from a night at the disco and less like the music you hear at one. Reviewers were left nonplussed—T. Cole Rachel described it as “flummoxing” in Pitchfork, and Suzy Exposito at Rolling Stone called its potpourri of guests “self-indulgent.” So now that Gonzalez has had time to digest some measure of critical abandonment, it’s fair for questions to arise: When you’ve spent 15 years in the game but strike gold on your sixth album (Hurry Up was Gonzalez’s highest-charting record to date), how do you top that? Do you even try?
Gonzalez didn’t. For him, it just came down to feeling overplayed. (Music from Hurry Up popped up in Bose and Red Bull ads, countless movie trailers and TV shows.) “It’s funny because I was hearing my music on the radio for the first time,” he says. “It was obviously amazing. I was turning on the TV and I would see movie trailers and commercials with my music. It was kind of amazing, but so scary at the same time. I felt like, ‘Oh, people are not fed up already with this song?’ I felt very blessed, but also I felt like I was put in a corner. I was the guy who was making big-sounding music that you use for commercials and movie trailers. And that’s exactly why I didn’t want to do the same thing with Junk, because I had too much of, like, hearing myself on TV, and I wanted people to get a break from it.”
He also didn’t want to feel pigeonholed into being an artist who relies on churning out a series of bombastic, arena-pleasing hits. “I wanted to take a different direction and experiment and also please myself as a musician,” he says. “[I wanted] to say to people that I’m not only the guy who makes that big music—this is not only what I want to do in life. I want to achieve more and keep experimenting.