lcd soundsystem - sound of silver

In these days of silly hype, The Killers can headline Glastonbury a couple of singles into their careers or - vice versa - Black Rebel are dropped because some over excited suit bet someone else’s money on their follow-up eclipsing ‘Nevermind’. LCD Soundsystem’s eponymous debut was not only a masterpiece of its day, lyrically and musically, but will arguably stand the test of time as the definitive album of the modern ‘punk-funk’ revival. The Grammy-nominated double-album showcased a natural fusion of the best parts of dance and rock n roll without an obvious bias towards one or the other, while offering depth in James Murphy’s simple but thought-provoking rants. With this in mind, it’s little surprise that ‘Sound of Silver’ is more of the same: a slight progression into funk, but a prime example of ‘if it ain’t broken, don’t fix it’. The record’s opener ‘Get Innocuous’ is colossal, an almost theatrical take on the DFA story so far. A subtle minimal build-up is interrupted by a wobbly loop, a part-electronic disco beat and suddenly all hell breaks loose with Murphy bellowing at you like some withdrawn futuristic god, and even a cute rap from live member Nancy Wang. A bitter but fun ‘Time to Get Away’ follows, and introduces the LP’s soul party interludes, echoing Sly Stone and Talking Heads. ‘Watch the Tapes’ takes this direction further, with percussion nods to NY pioneers Liquid Liquid and ESG, and the bizarrely addictive ‘Us v Them’ wouldn’t be out of place broadcast at either a trendy club or a camp football match. Surprisingly with the current global mood, lead single ‘North American Scum’ doesn’t appear to be an attack on US foreign policy, more an anecdote on what being an ‘American’ is or should be about. Comparisons of the nightlife in Spain and Berlin Vs New York are referenced along with digs at US Christian-group party poopers, curfew laws, into an industrialised bass-lavished romp. The album’s crown jewels, though, are the 14 minutes of ‘Someone Great’ and ‘All My Friends’. The electro whirl of ‘Someone Great’ skilfully adds a xylophone and an emotional edge to ‘Sound of Silver’, while the powerful, almost hypnotic piano-led ‘All My Friends’ is simply bliss. Sadly the album does end on a slight whimper. The title track’s vocal line is annoyingly catchy but the whole number seems purposely lengthy and drags a little. Finale ‘New York, I Love You But You’re Bringing Me Down’ is basically the same lounge direction as ‘Never As Tired As When I’m Waking Up’ from the debut; an out of place novelty, but just not as memorable. At nine tracks long, ‘Sound of Silver’ is quality over quantity and continues James Murphy’s intelligent scrapbook of house, punk, funk and disco of the debut. Hardly a revolution but certainly a more focussed effort, partly as it doesn’t have an extra CD of outstanding early singles as baggage, which invited comparison. Murphy is still at the top of his game, astute but comfortable in his varied composition.