Anarchy in the discotheque

Sound Advice #1: 

LCD Soundsystem – Sound of Silver (2007)

There’s a particularly poignant moment in ‘Shut Up and Play the Hits’, the film documenting the build-up to and aftermath of LCD Soundsystem’s final live show in 2011, where James Murphy is shown alone in what appears to be a vast storage space filled with studio equipment and vintage instruments. A series of still photographs flashes across the screen, depicting crowds at concerts and, perhaps most importantly, Murphy and his bandmates captured in candid moments – at parties, backstage, relaxing. It’s almost as if Murphy’s life (well, as LCD Soundsystem frontman, anyway) is flashing before our very eyes.

The camera pans back to Murphy standing at the far side of the room. We can’t see exactly what he’s looking at, but he suddenly bursts into tears – the sort of crying that men do that sounds like stifled laughter, but the hand over the face is a dead giveaway, as is the heavy breathing. It’s a deeply personal moment as Murphy, who has appeared fairly nonchalant about the demise of his band up until this point, breaks down in front of us. It’s as if it’s just dawned on him exactly what it is that he’s walking away from.

LCD Soundsystem were an interesting proposition from the moment the first singles landed. Critics called it ‘disco-punk’ and, really, they weren’t wrong.  Think mirrorballs with some of the squares missing, crackling neon lights reflected in puddles inside sweaty basement clubs, dusty speaker stacks which could withstand nuclear attack and grimy nightclub toilets caked in 30 years’ worth of graffiti, revealing secrets like modern day hieroglyphics. Think Mark E Smith and David Byrne sitting at the back of a run-down Studio 54, sharing a joke and a drink. Think the late ‘70s and early ‘80s, but with the benefit of hindsight.

If 2005’s self-titled debut showed LCD Soundsystem to be more than just chancers who got lucky with a few catchy singles then ‘Sound of Silver’ was confirmation that Murphy was truly on to something special here.

The first album, while great, felt more like a collection of tracks. By contrast, ‘Sound of Silver’ actually feels like a cohesive piece of work to be listened to and enjoyed in one sitting.

Seven-minute opener ‘Get Innocuous!’ builds up slowly but surely, from the gentle electronic brush beats to the driving, insistent bassline and synth stabs, while ‘Time To Get Away’ picks up the tempo with its Billie Jean-style beats and – yes – that familiar cowbell.

‘North American Scum’ pays homage to the Buzzcocks’ ‘Something’s Gone Wrong Again’, as Murphy, in his trademark just-woken-up drawl, sets the record straight on his group’s origins (“And for those of you who still think we’re from England – we’re not, no.”) and laments the New York authorities’ ever-tightening iron grip on his beloved city’s nightlife (“We can’t have parties like in Spain, where they go all night/Shut down in North America/Or like Berlin, where they go another night – alright!”).

The curiously euphoric ‘Someone Great’, with its throbbing, distorted synths, could be the greatest song the Human League never made, while ‘All My Friends’ starts with a single, repeated piano riff which gradually builds into a full-blown masterpiece which sits somewhere between Krautrock (the Motorik drumming is all present and correct) and Joy Division. Murphy sings about growing older, reflecting on your life and realising that even though all your friends have also moved on, it would be great to see them all just one more time, to catch that last fleeting glimmer of youthful exuberance before it fizzles out completely.

We head back into cowbell disco territory (but it’s what they do so well) for ‘Us V Them’, with its Talking Heads-esque chorus and Nile Rodgers-style instrumentation and hypnotic “Us and them… over and over again” refrain. This is the point in the night when you feel cool drops of water landing on your head and look up to see the club’s ceiling glistening with condensation, the falling droplets sparkling like diamonds caught in the strobe lights. No time to stop and take a breather. Gotta keep dancing in the disco rain.

‘Watch the Tapes’ is where The Fall’s influence truly manifests itself in all its shouty, ragged glory. This is also the shortest track on the album, at just under four minutes, and beautifully throwaway too. The album’s title track picks up where ‘Us V Them’ left off and while the lyrics themselves border on cringeworthy (Google ‘em), musically ‘Sound of Silver’ is a sleek, brooding blend of disco, house and techno that wouldn’t have sounded out of place somewhere like The Hacienda. There’s even a proper hands-in-the-air breakdown. If you don’t get lost in it then you’re not listening properly.

Closing the album is the brilliantly-named ‘New York, I Love You But You’re Bringing Me Down’ is Murphy gazing out over the Big Apple cityscape at 5am, after a heavy night out, and realising that, for all its faults, no other place will do at this very point in time. I like to think he afforded himself a wry smile after closing the piano lid. As he heads to bed, a long-finished record is still spinning on a dusty turntable, the needle swaying to and fro in the run-out groove, the gentle pops and crackles creating reassuring white noise.

So, a remarkable record, but, as we know, all good things must come to an end. In LCD Soundsystem’s case, that seems to have come at a point when many felt they were just getting going, just as the records were getting more ambitious, the concert venues grander. They had another two or three albums left in them, surely?

Nope. After one more album (2010’s universally acclaimed ‘This Is Happening’), the band called it a day with one last concert at New York’s Madison Square Garden on April 2, 2011.

Is that really it? For now – yes. Better to go out on a high than to continue for the sake of it and risk becoming a self-parody, dragging out the same tired routine three decades later, right? S’pose so.

But if Murphy DOES decide to revive LCD Soundsystem in the near or distant future then I’d like to think it won’t just be for the money – it’ll be because he remembers that moment, in that storage room after that final gig, when he broke down in tears. When he remembers exactly what it is he walked away from.