Nothing is hidden here: James Murphy's record
collection is on display via the influences so easily
discernible on his debut album as LCD Soundsystem. The
sound is all bare wires, exposed workings,
pre-dissected for maximum accessibility. And yet... it
retains its maximum coolness throughout. It's hipper
than hip, a swinging conflation of hollowed-out
post-punk noise driven by a sleek, minimalist,
future-funk engine. And yet... it bites the hand that
feeds it by being as much a commentary on the mores of
obsessive-hipster, underground record collectors as it
is itself more fuel for these same obsessives.
LCD Soundsystem's sonic emissions are a series of
enclosing parentheses with their contents blatantly on
display: insistent Krautrocking machine-funk; squelchy
retro-disco grooves; jabbering post-punk basslines and
spindly guitars. It's a mercurial succession of
mini-tableaux, perfectly composed selections of
captured influences, occasionally turning into
outright pastiche: the sneering Mark E Smith voice of
"Movement"; the thickened, jive-talking vocals of
"Thrills" (every bit as camp and mannered as Jagger's
on the Rolling Stones' "Hot Stuff"); the "Dear
Prudence" descending melody on the bleakly empty
"Never As Tired As When I'm Waking Up."
What does all this amount to? "Daft Punk Is Playing at
My House" kind of says it all — it's at once a bold
musical statement, a piece of self-conscious
absurdity, and an infectious, irresistible groove.
Whatever the post-modernist machinations implied by
Murphy's contradictory stance, the resolution comes via
the pulsating, compelling momentum the music generates. It's
as if Murphy asks the question, then says
"Aww, forget it," as the funk kicks in. It's a classic
case of debut album as faux anthology of musical
influences, but it's also a successful collection with
a marked sense of individuality, massively helped by
Murphy's dry sense of humor, which demonstrates a
willingness to embrace the contradiction at the heart
of his musical personality. The overall effect is only
slightly diluted by appending the early LCD
Soundsystem singles on an additional bonus disc, so
while 2002's mighty "Losing My Edge" has something
valuable to contribute to Murphy's discourse, it
appears as a kind of footnote instead of a key
element.
|
