“My name is Giovanni Giorgio,” he says memorably when the beat drops out, “But … everybody calls me Giorgio.”ĭuring the late ’70s and much of the ’80s, that name was ubiquitous. (Moroder was fortunate to know a wealthy German composer who owned one and would sometimes let him come over to experiment.) Landing somewhere in the vast space between a radio documentary and a club banger, “Giorgio by Moroder” is an odd song, one that could have become respect-your-elders preachy were it not for the warmth and infectious joie de vivre of the personality at its center. The machine is the Moog modular synthesizer, which in the early ’70s cost about as much as a small house. “But I didn’t realize how much the impact would be”). The man is the legendarily mustachioed 75-year-old producer Giorgio Moroder, who, in a spoken-word segment of the Daft Punk track, waxes nostalgic for the heady early days of electronic music (“I knew that it could be a sound of the future,” he says in his thick Italian accent. “Forget “Touch,” “Instant Crush,” or even “Get Lucky” - the best love song on Daft Punk’s Grammy-winning 2013 album Random Access Memories is “ Giorgio by Moroder,” a labyrinthine, freewheeling, and strange duet between a man and the machine he’d use to change pop music forever. Moroder in the music video for “Right Here, Right Now, ft.

Giorgio moroder songs