Review: LCD Soundsystem's new album is satisfying but sometimes slightly frustrating

"American Dream" comes out today.

ByABC News
September 1, 2017, 3:58 PM
James Murphy of LCD Soundsystem performs during the 2017 Forcastle Music Festival, July 15, 2017, in Louisville, Kentucky.
James Murphy of LCD Soundsystem performs during the 2017 Forcastle Music Festival, July 15, 2017, in Louisville, Kentucky.
Stephen J. Cohen/Getty Images

— -- It’s as easy to admire LCD Soundsystem mastermind James Murphy as it is to be annoyed by him. That dichotomy is fully on display on “American Dream,” the first LCD Soundsystem album since 2010’s “This is Happening.” Around that album’s release, Murphy disbanded the project, selling out Madison Square Garden for a blowout farewell show. I guess forever is not "forever;" he changed his mind a few years down the line. He needs LCD Soundsystem as an outlet, and disbanding the project, while earning him attention, was also a mistake.

Like every one of the group’s records, this collection offers up a handful of classics and a handful of duds, while still setting a surprisingly consistent mood. The opener “Oh Baby” is a remarkably buoyant, heartbroken love ballad while “Other Voices,” (which sadly isn’t the Cure classic of the same name) is the funkiest club-bound track you are likely to hear mentioning “morning ablutions” in its lyrics.

The set continues on quite nicely, until it meets the first speed-bump with “Tonite.” With its dinky, gaseous-sounding synth line and its painfully self-aware lyrics, this song makes Murphy a bit into a hipster cliché. In his listing lyrics, he’s making fun of hipster culture, but whether he intends to or not, he’s playing to his Williamsburg audience. In some ways this feels like it works similar ground as the early classic, “Losing My Edge,” but that song was self-aware in a humorous and self-mocking sort of way. This is accidentally irksome in its driving earnestness.

“Call the Police,” one of the first singles, is a continuous, seven-minute rise, building to a near explosion point. On some level it really works. On another, it can come off as a vaguely boring exercise. The same goes for the weepy, druggy title-track, which explores some interesting textures but doesn’t hit the heights of earlier cuts like “Tribulations,” “Someone Great” or “Dance Yrself Clean.”

Murphy still is a unique presence who has helped shape the sound of modern, alternative club-land over the last two decades or so and although this is not the blowout record it will likely be hyped as, this album still fits well with his other work. Sure, you may groan at the title and lyrics to “Emotional Haircut” but at the same time, there’s nothing truly bad about this set. The gripes I am listing are minor complaints in a way. Nothing on here is as atrocious as the band’s 2010 single “Drunk Girls.”

If you are looking for a more-than-decent, danceable mood-piece, LCD Soundsystem has once again delivered. Is this album worth the hype? In spots, most definitely. In others, not so much. “American Dream” is a satisfying but sometimes slightly frustrating record.

The next time Murphy has the urge to stop making LCD Soundsystem records, he should take a breath and let the feeling pass.

Focus Tracks:

“Oh Baby” After an extended intro, this opener becomes easily one of the best pieces of work in the LCD Soundsystem catalogue. It’s a fully-formed, emotionally-driven dance track. It’s the kind of track that John Hughes used to write school-dance climax scenes to suit. It’s the one truly unquestionably exceptional moment on the collection, rising above its basic title.

“Other Voices” This song explores with Murphy’s more rambling, talkative side, but it works because it has a thundering pulse. It has the sense of importance that a groove like this needs in order to succeed. Almost five minutes in, Murphy has a funny moment, passing the mic to group-member Nancy Whang, and yelling with exuberance, “Tell ‘em, Nancy!” If you don’t chuckle at that, there’s something very wrong.

“Black Screen” This airy, 12-minute closer, has an expansive ambient groove that could have gone on for probably 10 more minutes without wearing out its welcome. Murphy works well when he and the band explore minimalist territory. Part of me feels like this is an accidental re-write of or response to R.E.M.’s whispery electro-number “Airportman,” from 1998’s “Up,” but Murphy takes the groove into brighter places.