Daft Punk 's ambitions have never really changed—only their methods. From their early experiments in bone-rattling techno to their recent forays into maximalist pop, all of the duo's musical phases are simply new fronts in their war on time itself. The robot shtick gives the game away. Transforming themselves into immortal creatures, they express themselves through gleaming, chromed-out, formally perfect pop songs built to endure the decay of flesh. They apply Dr. Frankenstein's approach to the past, re-animating forgotten samples and saving their collaborators from the brink of obscurity. In their world, nothing has to age—and if it does, you just bring it back.

So as the world crumbles around us, we build fortresses in our mind. Which is to say, here at THUMP, we've decided to rank every Daft Punk song because arbitrary lists are the only things that make sense anymore. We included all five studio albums (including the Tron soundtrack), as well as numerous remixes, B-sides, and songs they've produced for artists like Kanye West—though if there were multiple versions of the same track, we only chose the best one. Some are all-time classics; some, not so much. All told, the catalogue includes 102 tracks comprising an artistic vision as distinct as the duo's silhouettes on that iconic Coachella billboard. More than anything, it's a reminder that the golden robots will always be there, spinning our favorite memories back to us one more time.— Ezra Marcus

Daft Punk carve out the fragmentary hearts of old songs, preserving their essence in digital amber. The same themes occur over and over; Thomas Bangalter and Guy-Manuel de Homem-Christo are drawn like moths to the flames of romance, youth, and parties—emotional and physical settings where time melts away. People play their hits at weddings, bar mitzvahs, and graduation parties because they want to remember those moments forever, and the songs feel timeless enough to last that long. In an era where chaos reigns, Daft Punk provide stability.

It's hard to overstate how much of a letdown Human After All was for Daft Punk fans—their first two records, stuffed with brilliant samples and impeccable sequencing, felt as deeply researched and cared for as zen rock gardens. Human After All—famously recorded in two weeks—sometimes doesn't sound as if they'd even listened all the way through. Case in point—"Television Rules the Nation." The only thing more ham-handed than this song's gurgling fart of a bass line is the woke-ass vocal sample—it's the track title repeated ad nauseum, as if you're being assaulted by a lunatic wielding a Banksy poster. French touch meets the Flobots, with more than a hint of Meatloaf. —Ezra Marcus

Rumors abound that this minimally manipulated track was a goof at the expense of Franz Ferdinand's thirst for a remix from the robots, but the static scratching Daft Punk tacks on actually does add a bit of necessary edge to this blunt iPod commercial staple. Prank or no, the band seem to have dug it. In 2013, Franz Ferdinand frontman Alex Kapranos had this to say of the rework's near-identical structure to the original: "I guess it was a bit of a nod from the Daft Punk guys to say: 'Ach, you got it more or less right.'" Sure, yes, that's it.— Colin Joyce

Daft Punk's dewy-eyed nostalgia is part of what's made the duo's tracks so heartwarming over the years—especially on their aptly titled meditation on reminiscence, Random Access Memories. But allowing Giorgio Moroder to wax rhapsodic for minutes at a time on the track that bears his name is more like listening to a distant relative's war stories than the disco biography the group likely intended. The retrofuturist instrumental moments are better—particularly the interstellar bass solo around the track's midpoint—and a reminder that history lessons aren't always best delivered as lectures.— Colin Joyce

A chunky, self-consciously "Real Instruments, Bro" funk groove with lush details—you could almost eat that confectionary guitar riff—brought down slightly by an aggressively average Pharrell vocal. Sounds like something you might casually Shazam if you heard it on Sephora's in-store playlist.— Ezra Marcus

Looking back, Daft Punk and Tron seem like a fated match. The former are a pair of faceless androids whose humanity is only evident through their music; the other is a fictional world in which computerized avatars turn out to be real people, or at least something close to that. What brings the two entities together is electricity—in the case of the robots, it's found in an album of pulsating synths that course through your veins. In the film, power is expressed through an electrified grid where sad saps battle it out to the death, or eventual glory (or both). Or maybe their common ground was just cool-looking lights.— David Garber

50. Chemical Brothers, "Life is Sweet (Daft Punk Remix)"

The Chemical Brothers and Daft Punk were two of the first electronic bands I got into when I was 18. Exit Planet Dust became my stoner album. I listened to it religiously while smoking and writing by myself. Later, when I was 23, I accidentally discovered this remix for "Life Is Sweet" while making a DJ mix for a friend's birthday party. I loved how Daft Punk kept the guitar parts from the original, but turned the rest of the song into more of a jacked-up electro-house track. It felt right at home with Le Knight Club, Felix Da Housecat, Sebastien Tellier, and some other obscure French house tracks I put on the mix. The remix went over well at the party, but it wasn't the last Daft Punk song I'd hear that night. Someone else put on a really shitty remix of "One More Time," and it nearly killed the whole night and turned me off the song forever.— Max Mohenu

49. "Technologic"

48. Junior Kimbrough, "I Gotta Try You Girl (Daft Punk Edit)"

47. "Give Life Back to Music "

I'll never forget hearing this track in my senior year college bedroom for the first time. While on a hike—smoking a joint in the woods—with some friends one afternoon, we caught a whiff of the long-awaited Random Access Memories. After listening to the full version of "Get Lucky" while dancing around like stoned idiots, we ran back to the car and headed back to campus.

I made a beeline for my room, plugged my iPhone into my speakers, and hit play on the first track of the album that would soon change everyone's life (or, at the very least, their year). Like the grooviest welcome mat I'd ever heard, a seductive wash of instrumentation took me over before Nile Rodgers' cheerful guitar line invaded my innards, and a robot voice entered the room. "Let the music in unite, just turn on the music," it said. They had me from the first note; I still get chills thinking about it.— David Garber

46. Scott Grooves, "Mothership Connect (Daft Punk Remix) "

As immortalized in their early nod to DJ lore, "Teachers," Daft Punk have always had a soft spot for the American house and techno legends that helped pave the way for their careers. While Scott Grooves doesn't actually receive a shoutout on the aforementioned track, the robots had a chance to throw a French-touch spin on the Detroit legend's collaboration with Parliament off his classic 1998 album, Pieces of a Dream. It's possible that the remix came to fruition as a result of both artists being signed to the iconic Scottish label Soma—which also famously released the duo's seminal hit, "Da Funk"—but Daft Punk's loving take on the track seems like more than a label favor; it's the sort of fuzzy, friendly rework they'd only ever give to one of their heroes.— David Garber

45. "Derezzed "

Nestled among the more anonymous and abstract pieces that make up the Tron: Legacy score is this gleaming bit of film-grade neon. A granular distorted synthesizer loop kicks off this stuttering, synesthetic electro cut, which rolls with its throttle wide open through a brief minute and 44 seconds. Like the film it soundtracks, it's full of the freewheeling panic of playing an arcade cabinet you'll never quite master—the kill screen coming ages before you expect it.— Colin Joyce

44. "Superheroes"

For many years, I thought the lyrics throughout this slice of euphoric triumphalism were, "Gungans in the air"—a reference to the Jar Jar Binks species in Star Wars: The Phantom Menace. I must admit, believing the song to be a sort of military rally-cry for a race of man-sized space amphibians has only ever enhanced it in my eyes. Fair to say this isn't the most nuanced or emotionally arresting thing Daft Punk have produced, but there's an unabashed joy to be had when they enter the realms of pure maximalism. —Angus Harrison

43. "Drive "

Created in 1994 but still not officially released, "Drive" is a strange look for the robots. The repetitive vocal sample of the word "drive" and the heart-pounding rhythm feel of a piece with their debut single "The New Wave," which they recorded around the same time. But those looking for early flashes of brilliance in cast-off studio sessions would be advised to look elsewhere. "Drive" is something else altogether, an austere take on bone-dry techno from a duo that would become known for their efforts to breathe life back into music's more synthetic corners. The track is Daft Punk at their rawest—whether or not that's a good thing is up to you.— Britt Julious

42. "Alive "

"Alive"'s long evolution is part of what makes it so endearing. It was born in zygotic form as the duo's debut single "The New Wave" in 1994, then later mutated into the gleefully mechanistic version that's on Homework, before becoming the adamantium backbone of so many of their live shows over the years (and even lending its name to their iconic live record). Here, many of the group's more interesting sonic elements shine: echoing synths, rumbling rhythms, and a dark, almost foreboding tone that sounds rooted in the android iconography that would come to define the duo. But its brilliance lies, not in those machinations, but in its nature as a living document, a slowly shifting piece that could always adapt, and would never die.— Britt Julious

41. "Daftendirekt "

Like all of house music's greats, Daft Punk are capable of making an instrumental eternity feel like an instant—but the genius of "Daftendirekt," which appears on first listen to be one of Homework's minor tracks, is that it somehow manages to do the opposite. With a creeping filter sweep across a single sampled line of vocals—something to the effect of "C'mon the funk back to the punk," but left deliberately ambiguous—they stretch a single sample into an epic. It was the first track on their first album, and a common intro for their live shows in the era. As such, its time-stretching effect feels auspicious: a giddy suggestion of the shape of Daft Punk to come.— Colin Joyce

40. "Burnin' "

The title of "Burnin'" might imply a mighty sonic inferno, but Daft Punk's tribute to conflagration is content to cruise along. It's surprisingly comforting and bubbly, with zapping laser sounds providing most of the sparks. The only real escalation is the blare of a fire truck siren, although that sample is quickly consumed by the synths, without much fanfare. "Burnin'" is less of a wildfire and more of a hearth, illuminating and warming a disco rather than destroying it.— James Grebey

39. Prince, "Kiss (Daft Punk Remix)"

Many have tried their hand at massaging the Purple One's alien R&B transmissions into more club-friendly shapes, but none but Daft Punk had "Da Funk." The duo's edit of "Kiss"—never officially released but floating around on various bootleg comps, its original provenance unclear—adds just that, incorporating the blistered lead line and leaden low end from their 1995 single to ballast some of the original's interstellar lift. It almost feels like cheating to send a classic pop song and one of your own biggest hits on a collision course, but few remixes have ever felt this weighty—like a monolith slammed down in the middle of the dancefloor.— Colin Joyce

38. Kanye West, "Black Skinhead" (prod. Daft Punk)

As with any song that emerges from Kanye West's secretive and highly collaborative studio process, it's difficult to tell where any particular artist's creative input ends and another's begins. Still, it's hard not to credit Daft Punk with the galloping pace and punishing drums of this Yeezus standout. "Black Skinhead" features some of Kanye's sharpest, most political lyrics ever, so it makes sense that he'd choose two producers as passionate, possessed, and obsessive about music as he is to bring them to life.— Ezra Marcus

37. "High Fidelity "

The star of "High Fidelity" is the fucked up sax riff that punctuates the song's otherwise smoky vibe. The warped sample of Billy Joel's "Just the Way You Are" is transformed from an 80s standard into mysterious glitched out techno-noir. The harsh loop gives everything around it a paranoid, sinister feel, and the confident, thumping beat underneath won't stop.— James Grebey

36. Gabrielle, "Forget About The World (Daft Punk Don't Forget The World Mix)"

The beginning of Daft Punk's reinvention of Gabrielle's dreamy R&B track is evolution in action. It starts with a screaming horde of children before eventually giving way to warped voices, each urging the listener to "forget about the world," like a cybernetic auditory hallucination. Though one of those repetitive voices seems to win out in the end, it's briefly waylaid by an unstoppable beat. It's still there, though, like a hard-to-forget voice lingering somewhere in the back of your head.— James Grebey

35. Ian Pooley, "Chord Memory (Daft Punk Remix)"

Ian Pooley, bless him, has one of those unshakably humdrum names that always makes you associate said person with dismal Tuesdays in November. Ian Pooley is the name of a local plumber or a lower league left-back or a failed restaurant owner or a bloke you see in the local paper because his winning lottery ticket turned out to be fake. This gloriously squelchy remix makes you forget about all that. For a few minutes, "Ian Pooley" is the name God's chosen to disguise himself on Earth, and Daft Punk are his anointed messengers.— Josh Baines

34. "Get Lucky"

Okay, there are a myriad of approaches here. You can fight it, go on the defensive, make disparaging claims about "Get Lucky" being a rehash of every Chic song ever written, and describe Random Access Memories as nothing more than the bloated experiment of two overfunded Studio 54-fetishists. Or you can go full post-ironic, and wax lyrical about the song being one of the true pop behemoths of the 21st century—a pristine, precise thing of undeniable groove and beauty. Or you can go full funnyman and pretend you've never heard of it.

Whichever way you look at it, since its arrival in 2013, "Get Lucky" has caused more of a stir than many pieces of music are likely to in our lifetime. From the Coachella trailer, to the Grammys performance featuring Stevie Wonder, the song has cemented itself as an immovable object on the landscape of 21st century pop culture, one that will be celebrated at wedding receptions across the world for time immemorial. —Angus Harrison

33. "Emotion "

From the slow, bouncing bass line to the synth that warbles like a circling songbird, "Emotion" pulsates with an uplifting lackadaisical energy that's easy to get lost in. There's a little more insistence, drive, and purpose as the track goes on, slowly building in volume if not tempo—like a lazy hike in the woods that takes on renewed purpose when you think there's something lurking behind you. As the song climaxes, though, it's all joy, that release of tension you experience when you realize that ominous rustling was just, say, a rabbit in the underbrush.— Meilyn Huq

32. "Musique "

Daft Punk are nothing if not self-aware. Even when making functional, floor-filling filter house in their earlier days, they'd give things a little bit of a tweak on the nose. Take this head-bobbing B-side to their immortal 1995 single "Da Funk," for example—a more anonymous but no less endearing take on the retro-futurist sound they'd come to own over the next decade. Its purpose is clear: keep bodies moving. Its title cuts straight to the point: "Musique." Nothing more, nothing less.— Colin Joyce

31. "Oh Yeah "

Oh yeah, what? Sure, the synth-children that Daft Punk rounded up for this Homework cut are excited, if a little monotone. But it's not clear why, exactly, they're so psyched. Plus, the off-kilter, wonky beats and static-laden "error" sounds don't quite seem to match their lyrical enthusiasm. Perhaps it's because "Oh Yeah" is just a breather. Screaming to the dance is tiring work, but it's important to power through a lull in order to keep a party going till dawn.— James Grebey

30. "Touch "

If there was one thing I wish music made me feel more often, it's embarrassment. Genuine, skin-crawling, catching-your-dad-wanking embarrassment. The kind of embarrassment that seeps into every fiber of your being, and never leaves. That kind of embarrassment is the embarrassment I feel every time I come into contact with "Touch," a song that's so monumentally terrible on every level that it becomes car-crash-transfixing. It is a piece of art that no one asked for, no one needed, and no one particularly wanted. But nearly three and a half years after the first time it made me feel sick to my stomach, it's still lodged in my internal jukebox, and every time it hovers into hearing, I am reminded of the potent power of total and utter sincerity.— Josh Baines

29. "Fresh "

Even a band as capable of generating universally beloved hits as Daft Punk has to take some time to experiment a bit. "Fresh," which first appeared on the duo's debut album Homework, begins with the sound of ocean waves crashing on the shore. A guitar slowly pierces through the steady sounds of the water, before a sleepy synth and distant house beat flow in. It's a gorgeous and breezy wonder, better suited to the end of the night than the peak dance floor moments that have come to define the group's output. The group hasn't released much like it since, which is part of what makes it still feel so, well, fresh.— Britt Julious

28. "Revolution 909 "

Daft Punk came up with this cyberpunk echo of "Fight for Your Right (to Party)" in response to the French government's misguided attempts to crack down on rave culture in the late 90s. Joke's on the feds though, because persecution so often leads to great art. Chattering voices and emergency sirens at the beginning of the song transition seamlessly into a steady, adrenaline-addled pulse that barrels along regardless of any consequences. It's a frenzied heartbeat, because you're doing something wrong for all the right reasons. And, yes, maybe you're on drugs, too, but that's not really the point.— James Grebey

27. "The New Wave "

Released before either member of the duo would've been old enough to drink in the States, Daft Punk's debut single "The New Wave" is something of an outlier in their kaleidoscopic catalog. Built around a pummeling kick drum and a few acid belches, the 7-minute full version is a night drive through techno's desolate monochromatic landscapes, a broken-headlights exploration of the unknown industrial areas surrounding dance music. There's still the lead-footed momentum of their later works, but "The New Wave" is wonderfully sparse—the rare release in their catalog that follows through on their conceptual promise of metal machine music.— Colin Joyce

26. "Doin' It Right "

An odd duck among Random Access Memories' more organic outings, the synthetic ecstasy of "Doin' It Right" is a grown-up version of Daft Punk's earlier exhortations to lose yourself to dance. But where many Homework cuts seem caught up in the euphoric moment, "Doin' It Right" offers a melancholy hopefulness. The vocoder loop of Panda Bear's vocals projects a feeling of cautious expectation—the promise that this night could...might... will be perfect —while his chorus reveals an uncharacteristically raw, human side to Daft Punk's robotics. It's not all gloom, though, because there is still a chance that the magic will work. This track just implicitly acknowledges the bittersweet possibility that it won't.— James Grebey

25. "Rock'n Roll "

It wouldn't be until 2005's "Robot Rock" that the duo would fully indulge their fondness for guitar-slinging sleaziness, but this Homework cut was an early tribute to the stadium dynamism that all your favorite rock bros perfected first. The stuttery sample midway through may sound more like musique concrète, but the slow build toward euphoria is straight out of a Jimmy Page solo, a slow tease brought to a shuddering zenith by the continuous thunder of a sampled drum kit. It's not one of their pop hits, but the way they were able to borrow from different genres and forms and apply those lessons in unexpected ways perhaps demonstrates why they had those hits in the first place.— Colin Joyce

24. "Aerodynamite "

"Aerodynamite"—a glimmering rework of Discovery's "Aerodynamic"—foreshadows the disco-indebted luxury that a later generation of electro acts would transmute into outright opulence. But despite their occasional populism, Daft Punk have always practiced admirable restraint, ballasting the grandeur of the original with a sinister earthiness in the main motif. That feeling becomes more intense as the track moves forward, suggesting a black cloud behind the silver-lined cumulus that the track opens with—a suggestion that the kingliness of "Aerodynamite" is mere fantasy, an extension of the dancefloor's escapist power.— Oliver Kinkel

23. "Make Love "

Human After All is a deeply flawed album, but this weird little jewel offers a touch of joy amid the half-baked bombast. The delicate Durutti Column-esque guitar riff wraps you casually around its little finger, while muted drums and a gossamer thread of vocals transport you to a perfumed garden. Enjoy your vacation while it lasts, though—next on the record comes the soul-sucking churn of "The Brainwasher."— Ezra Marcus

22. "Veridis Quo "

"Veridis Quo" is a strange moment on Discovery. Nestled in a sea of otherwise cinematic displays, the threaded organs make for a deliberately gentle, almost pastoral, touch. As they gently intertwine, we're reminded of Daft Punk's capacity for pathos. This is the breath of oxygen punctuating the outstretched magical blanket that makes up the rest of the record. But just as you're about to take the track too seriously, you realize that the Latin-sounding title is in fact a sneaky rejigging of the words "very disco." Turns out, they've got a sense of humor, too. —Angus Harrison

21. "Indo Silver Club "