By Rebecca Bulnes
By Lee Zimmerman
By Rebecca Bulnes
By S. Pajot
By S. Pajot, Liz Tracy, Kat Bein, & Sean Levisman
By Kat Bein
By Ashley Rogers
The kids are dancing to LCD Soundsystem's eponymous debut. Conceived by DFA Records co-founder James Murphy (known for originally producing dance-punk phenoms the Rapture and a crateful of remix tracks), the New York quintet champions a lusty, driving sound that is sure to inflame all the trendy indie rockers stuck in Eighties permanence and the rapturous, E-dropping club freaks into one sweaty, hellfire orgy.
LCD Soundsystem sets the tone with the opening cut, "Daft Punk Is Playing at My House," a rowdy, bass-heavy opener with a head-nodding segment of cowbell hits. The group continues with anthems such as "Movement," which begins with Pat Mahoney's thumping drum beat and Nancy Whang's simple, buzzing synths before exploding into all-out garage rock brashness led by Tyler Pope's dizzying guitar wails. Murphy then takes a breather with "Never as Tired as When I'm Waking Up," a woozy ballad remindful of the Beatles' dazed and sleepy tune, "I'm So Tired," on which his voice rises into a trippy falsetto. With "On Repeat," Murphy leads a sweltering house beat that upsurges increasingly as Pope, Whang, and multi-instrumentalist Phil Mossman follow him in perfect cadence until the track reaches orgasm, as if it were generated at the height of a hot, carnal bedroom session. Most surprising here is the final "Great Release": a Brian Eno-like ode of spacey, ambient pop that seems out of place on the album but still swells into an unexpected but affecting endpoint. The second disc includes the group's early singles, giving listeners the chance to romp along with tracks such as 2002's "Losing My Edge," a bouncy, spoken-not-sung dance hit on which Murphy lays down his aging hipster insights. "I was the first guy playing Daft Punk to the rock kids/I played it at CBGB's/Everybody thought I was crazy," he reminisces sardonically.
LCD Soundsystem accelerates unrelentingly throughout its course with entrancing rhythms topped by Murphy's wry vocals ("Everybody here's afraid of fun/And nobody's getting any play/It's the saddest night out in the U.S.A." he sings on "Beat Connection"). This band is the real thing, pumping out dance songs to get your ass moving -- no hackneyed, tight-shirted house DJ or tragically awkward laptop nerd needed. Rock and roll's gotta live.