I can still hear them taunting me.

Disclaimer: This was written late one night in January 2007 while I sat up drunk and alone, waiting for something other than the sunrise to put me to sleep. I don't think I'm usually this self-indulgent. Oh, and I'm no longer in Scotland.

In 2004, I was really excited about LCD Soundsystem. That's actually an understatement, I was eagerly checking all the usual seedy internet hotspots for James Murphy's debut LP as soon as I first heard "Losing My Edge" in the Winter of 2004. I was living with my good friend Brendon then in a glorified trailer park (thanks Ivy League for those wonderful temporary dorms!) and I remember blasting that track. Between us, we got all the references, but Brendon was helping me out with most of them. I didn't care, I loved the drawl, I loved the dopey voice, there was something really hooky about it. It was a new voice.

I remember sitting in an awful college computer lab in Scotland, eagerly downloading "Movement" the first single off that long-awaited LP. That was after all of the bootleg cuts and random singles. "Beat Connection," "What is Love?" (is that what that song was even called?), a bunch of other stuff I can't even remember now. I sought it all out, anytime I heard about a new track, I hit soulseek and went. And then the Holy Grail of indie rock dance parties, "Yeah." "Yeah" pretty much sealed the deal, LCD Soundsystem was THE artist I was most excited about in 2004.

I immediately loved "Movement," there was something so spastically awesome about it. It didn't matter that I didn't get the Mark E. Smith vocal copping and besides, what I know of the Fall I don't love (sorry, world, I just can't get into them). But all I had was "Movement," since all I had was an ipod cable jacking into a public computer. No access to proper file-sharing. It sucked, simply.

The last bright spot of my 2004 LCD obsession was when Aidan Moffat from Arab Strap played "Movement" just a week after it hit the blogs during a DJ set I was attended alone. It would have been depressing except I got wasted, met an awesome band, hit on some unbearably cute Scottish freshman, went to an after-party, and just had an amazing night. That was when I was awesome, I can't do that kind of shit nowadays. But anyways, I went to the booth and was really drunk from slamming 1.80 pints of Stella and yelled something like, "Your band is fucking awesome and you played this song and made my night. This is the hottest shit out right now and you're playing it, you motherfucker!" He got the message and was unbearably nice. He told me how much he loved it, shook my hand, too. Stand-up guy.

Then I left Scotland, the album came and it went. It was disappointing, I don't know what else to say about it that the rest of the world hasn't said. I felt like my hero stumbled. This band I was telling everyone about, "Look out for LCD, they're THE next big thing, I'm telling you." There were a few of us barking up that tree, and I'm sure we all looked foolish after the proper LP came. It wasn't bad, it was just, well, boring. Murphy is such an original voice, the album played too much like paying his dues to those who came before. Homage to the point of redundancy. It was enjoyable for sure, but as most reviews noted, the bonus disc included in the first pressings with all his prior singles was superior to the album. After that album, LCD got off my radar, I fell back in love with indie rock proper and most people probably think my opinions got boring. Whatever. It only made matters worse that a bunch of drunk Williamsburg wannabe frat bros started calling me "LCD Soundsystem" when I'd show up at parties because I bear a slight resemblance to Mr. Murphy himself.

Well, I'm back in Scotland, it's now 2006. I'm 2 years older, but I have the new LCD Soundsystem album, The Sound of Silver, and I'm pretty much obsessed with it. It's the best album of 2007 so far, no problem. Well, we're only about a week into the year at this point. I guess I'm not as wrapped up in the scenes anymore since once again I'm without internet access and all that shit makes me sick these days anyways. My buddy Sean (a.k.a. Forests) who is down with all this scene stuff told me Murphy did some 44 minute track for Nike a few months back which he liked more than the album, but I still need to track that down. I don't have that reference point, but I'll tell you what I do know.

The Sound of Silver is the album I wanted the first time around. It's dancey, it's rambling, it's kind of obnoxious, and that's the point of LCD. The swagger is all there again. There are pangs of "Losing My Edge" and "Yeah" all over the place. Whether it's how the drum samples sound or just the attitude, what I liked initially about Murphy's music is back. "North American Scum" is like the new "Daft Punk is Playing At My House" (How brilliant was that track the first time you heard it? Be honest.)

Sure the fact that it's so reminiscent of his older material is kind of troubling. "Us v. Them" is pretty much the new "Yeah." I swear to God I hear that drum sample from "Losing My Edge" in just about every song he does. It's ok though because he's found his sound and the voice is what's developing.

The major development on The Sound of Silver is Murphy's sincerity. That same Sean made a little megamix over the last spring break called The Whitest Anyone Has Ever Been While Trying to Be Black or French which prominently featured not only that drum sample but the vocal line from "Losing My Edge" played over Steve Winwood's classic fart-synth crazy "While You See a Chance." We all joked about how Murphy had never sounded so sincere, and then here's this album.

The tour de force of the album counts on this new sincerity. The one-two punch of "Someone Great" into "All My Friends" is the centerpiece of the album and simply brilliant. "Someone Great" is just a fantastic bit of music, but Murphy's vocal performance pulls the thing together. There's something so removed about it, but so painful, you can't put your finger on it. It's the kind of track that punches you in the stomach. There's this whole Chemical Brothers "Block Rockin Beats" lameness to it, but with these blaring siren synths that just sound like the world is ending on headphones. And does Murphy's voice falter? No, not at all. It's a song about mistakes, and for once Murphy's voice is wry with something other than sarcasm, namely regret.

You can almost read the closing line of "Someone Great" ("We're safe for a moment") as foreshadowing for "All My Friends," which I thing bests anything Murphy has ever put out. The piano droning reminds me of New Order's "Temptation" doubling up its own hypnotic effect with the feel of Lou Reed's "Street Hustle" or the Velvet Underground's "All Tomorrow's Parties." It is the song that cements Murphy as one of the true shepherds of this current crop of move-to-NY-post-college slackers. It delivers his heart on the sleeve of sarcasm. He gives us great lines and is damn near prophetic. You have to hear it to believe it, I couldn't believe it the first time. Unlike the first album, Murphy finds a way to use his influences and supplant his own voice over the top. It is brilliant. If you told me James Murphy would say something like, "It's when we're running out of drugs and the conversation's grinding away/I wouldn't trade one stupid decision for another 5 years of life," I just couldn't believe that. It's too personal. The delivery brings to mind fucking Lou Reed and Ian Curtis and I'm embarrassed even writing this kind of garbage hyperbole, but that's how I feel about it.

I couldn't write about this stuff without the name-dropping, without proving my cred. Because that's part of the LCD joke too, it's being ridiculous, it's being stupid and scene. I feel like nothing I say will have any weight unless I reference those people. I'm just telling you right now, The Sound of Silver is one of the best albums I've heard in a long time. It's not perfect, but it's James Murphy finding a way to sing what's inside of him, and Jesus Christ, if that doesn't get you running out to the record store, I don't know what will.