I may very well have been the only person to not have seen James Murphy coming. Not that we weren’t given plenty of warning. Murphy was prolific, and he came as a package deal consisting of LCD Soundsystem (and his brainchild/mechanical baby) and DFA Records (his record label). Then merely a month after the scene that Murphy seemed to have single-handedly created had settled around me, I took notice and found I’d fallen behind. So much time convincing myself I had had a handle on “cool” and knew every new trend before it dropped, every hip band before it had even gotten together for its first rough practice in the drummer’s basement.

In comes my initial exposure to LCD Soundsystem: Losing My Edge. Surely, Mr. Murphy was having a laugh at my expense, but he was accessible enough to encourage me to laugh along.
James Murphy may be, next to Spencer Krug, the hardest working man in independent music. Since I’d discovered LCD Soundsystem’s eponymous debut in 2005 (the year it was released on CD, dammit!), James Murphy has released two engaging remix albums through DFA, a number of brilliantly unique dance-band debuts (Hot Chip) on that same label, an online 45-minute disco-masterwork commissioned by Nike (while deftly dodging any “sell-out” epithets), and now he’s confidently released LCD Soundsystem’s second album as if the phrase “sophomore slump” meant nothing to him.

Fear not, James Murphy, you are in every magazine I pick up, wearing the totally ironic flat-affect reminiscent of a Bret Easton Ellis 80’s. Your album will be a hit whether or not it’s good, at this point. The press has given you certain guarantees. But hey, I know you don’t care, so let’s just hop right to it.

The Sound of Silver is the next logical step that LCD Soundsystem could take to follow-up its hipster inflected, dance-repetitive, deadly infectious debut. What could follow a two-CD set unleashing one CD of groundbreaking dance music dripping with bad attitude, and a second CD chock full of searing remixes and previously released 7-inch singles? The Sound of Silver, of course.

Murphy must be a relatively intuitive guy, had The Sound of Silver burst into this scene as a heavy reworking of the debut, curmudgeonly vocals and all, only his most loyal listeners could have hung on. No, The Sound of Silver serves up a heaping helping of James Murphy’s musical influences swiftly jetting the listener between slap-bass funk and drum&bass-for-the-smartypants-set. The beats hold the whole album together as within and among songs Mr. Murphy masterfully tweaks, plucks, crunches, and rattles the common sense out of even the most jaded listener.

This album has its “Daft Punk Is Playing At My House,” and it’s called “North American Scum.” An unlikely ode to the perceptions from abroad of Americans and their homeland, this song takes itself seriously only in its shuddering beats and Murphy’s practiced, over-the-top delivery. In under six minutes, James Murphy does what The Beastie Boys couldn’t do over a full album with To the 5 Boroughs. “North American Scum” is more effective, poignant, and convincingly honest in its steadfast support of Americans in the face of the foreigner’s perception of American stupidity.

Less obvious sampling and more organic instrumentation open the door for a newfound vocal versatility. What had previously been shouts and affected grunts, has evolved into chanting, melodic recitations, and yes, even some singing. He’s not half bad in the singing department. Even if he was, it wouldn’t matter so much because he could convince us all of his talent by his steadfast conviction in delivery alone.

James Murphy seems to have created a personae who, we are to believe, couldn’t give a shit what you think. That’s half of what makes the album fun, the reckless ability to shirk society’s ever increasing, suffocating set of norms.

Expect more singles than just “North American Scum” to sidle up to the radio stations in your locale. “Watch the Tapes” is a catchy take on reliving your teen years while hopped up on anything and everything. While the music thuds and pumps as if it were a glowing example of pubescent hormones raging uncontrolled, the lyrics find Murphy self-conscious and almost counting the years from those days until now: “_Read all the pamphlets and watch the tapes/You turn 25/And now you’re all out of escapes, c’mon._”

The Sound of Silver takes a further free-form approach to that same sentiment, and it is followed by an oddly straightforward piano-based pop tune that could only have been written by a New Yorker, “_New York, I love you but you’re bringing me down_”.
Murphy took many chances on this album, though I don’t think he’d consider them risks. I don’t even know that he’d care all that much. Which I guess is good, because that’s the kind of attitude that keeps this kind of music coming.

LCD Soundsystem Official Site
DFA Records