LCD Soundsystem - 45:33 (DFA/EMI)
4/5
Issued earlier this year as an iTunes only download, 45:33 is at last afforded a more conventional release just in time to remind all those compiling end of year lists just how superb Sound of Silver is. And how could they forget? f all the vintage albums fawned over this year, the second LCD long player may well be the best. That rarest of beasts, it's a postmodern masterpiece not afraid to show a little heart and soul. As visceral as albums by Justice, Digitalism et al were, it's that element of vulnerability, of the human, of Murphy's Moorish charisma that they just can't compete with. But as well received as that record was (just check Metacritic!), the issuing of 45:33 on CD and vinyl may well be the first encounter for many of what is essentially a three-quarter hour long Murphy DJ set. It certainly is for me. Call me a Luddite, but I'm still reluctant to pay for music I can't hold in my hand, regardless of the high esteem in which I hold the artist. The question is has it been worth my wait?
James Murphy has always exuded a cool intelligence, consistently quoting the right sources, producing the right records, running the right record label. The well-informed older brother with the best looking girlfriend, he'd be insufferable if he wasn't so damn cute. And in terms of cultural cache, DFA as a brand is pretty much unparalleled in dance music right now, save possibly Ed Banger. So, it's no surprise that those culture vultures Nike have taken the opportunity to cash-in on Murphy's subcultural capital by commissioning him to create a piece of music designed to be listened to while running. It's a clever idea and one not difficult to see Murphy agreeing to. I'd imagine he was gifted a not insignificant settlement for his troubles, not to mention some sharp new sneakers. And ethical concerns about Nike aside, there's much to be said for the commercial patronship of creativity. Indeed it's the kind of relationship that stretches back to the Renaissance period, not that the two things are totally comparable of course. But on first listen here, it's clear this isn't all about the Benjamins, at least not for Murphy.
In keeping with the astonishing quality control of the LCD back catalogue, 45:33 builds on Murphy's reputation as the ultimate musical magpie, at points stretching to referencing his own canon. The title itself may even be an oblique reference to John Cage's 4:33 - and there's not many superstar DJs cerebral enough to consider that. Apparently constructed to accommodate the peaks and troughs of long distance running, the opening three minutes is a warm-up of sorts, employing a Kraftwerk-esque cyclical motif that segues into a piano house intro that stands amongst Murphy's most compelling work. It feels like a train warming up. I can only imagine the dollar signs ch-chinging around the Nike boardroom.
Muscles warmed, flexed and engaged, the trademark gruff vocals kick in, as Murphy coughs out his best Chic impression that has mid-seventies New York chugging right through its grooves. Alongside his recent Fabric mix album, there's more than a suggestion that Murphy is developing a more public love affair with early disco and on the evidence here, the third album proper may well benefit greatly from it. As if creating endurance over explosive energy, a vocal-less 'Someone Great' from Sound of Silver kicks in gently and comprises the majority of the remaining first half of the mix. It's reported that Murphy used this project to help with an unusual period of writers block just prior to the recording of Sound of Silver and even if 'Someone Great' has appeared in an improved form on said album, it still sounds as fresh as ever.
The remaining half doesn't quite match the urgency and, quite frankly, essential qualities of the first, but the logic in the construction of the mix is obvious. The final third in particular possesses a hypnotic, motorik like element that accommodates the "loneliness of the middle distance runner" rather suitably, replete with a well earned warm down that evokes the blissed-out elements of 'Great Release' from the LCD debut. It might well be accidental though. Murphy doesn't much look like an athlete these days.
As if to add more incentive to purchasing the physical version of 45:33, three further tracks are tacked on the end, including a deep house version of 'North American Scum' that's only identifiable by the occasional shared vocal line. As arresting as it is, I'm not sure how long DJs can keep referencing 'Higher State of Consciousness' so blatantly though. But really, who cares about the added extras. I'm out of breath just listening to 45:33. Something tells me that James Murphy still has a lot longer to run.
Stream '45:33' HERE.
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