Murphy’s Romance

			Send to a Friend
			Printer Friendly Format
			Leave Feedback
			Read Feedback
			Hooksexup RSS

t a press conference meant to address a mostly fictional "LCD Soundsystem backlash," a ruddy James Murphy instead discussed rehab-by-aging and recipes for home fries. The lyrics on Sound of Silver, Murphy’s second album, maintain the self-aware, mocking wit of his 2002 breakthrough single, Losing My Edge. The songs are thick with bulldozing beats and staccato metallic sparks. It takes effort to sit still while listening.

Besides composing innovative beats with guitar, synthesizers, cowbells and kalimbas, the thirty-seven year old also co-owns DFA Records, whose roster includes disco-punk-funk-rockish bands such as The Rapture and Hot Chip. Murphy also DJs and has produced tracks for N.E.R.D, Le Tigre and Junior Senior. He speaks rapidly but thoughtfully, moving his arms from his shoulders, and accents his points with his eyes and mouth. Post-press-conference, Murphy talked to Hooksexup about his I-don’t-give-shit pose,

his love for modern dance and his marriage, which began at 6 a.m. on a New Year’s Eve. — Catrinel Bartolomeu

You’ve said making music should be enjoyable, but uncomfortable. How do you enjoy discomfort?
If you’re non-confrontational, let’s say, in a relationship, you find yourself trapped. Doing something you don’t like, you learn stuff, and it’s actually not as bad as you thought. It’s similar with music. There are often issues of coolness and insecurity. I’m not particularly brave. I’m not a person who doesn’t give a shit. I genuinely give a shit, I’m even a little bit neurotic. So trying to push through that, to do the things I admire and wouldn’t normally do, I find really fun. And maybe a little masochistic.

You talk like you give a shit, but what are you talking about?
Well, everyone pretends not to give a shit. But I find that a really empty, empty, empty teenage pose. It’s a defense mechanism. There was a time it was really compelling. In 1968, to be Iggy Pop and be like "I Wanna Be Your Dog" was actually really interesting. To be that fearless is kind of beautiful. But now that it’s been done so well, by so many people, it becomes kind of comical.

It’s like being a beat poet, now. It’s over. It’s not that era in history. These things happen because they’re relevant. Someone like Jasper Johns is kind of amazing, because he found relevance in a time when everyone was like, "There’s nothing we can do anymore."

Do you think listening to music should be uncomfortable?
Ehh, I don’t know [groans]. I love listening to music. Sometimes my favorite records make me really uncomfortable. The first time I heard the Fall I was deeply afraid, because it was so broken and strange. At that time, pop was getting shinier, and underground music was either lush and romantic or really hard. It was Black Flag or Echo and the Bunnymen. All of a sudden, for me, there was this band that made no sense; they didn’t have any of it. They weren’t particularly powerful or romantic, they weren’t pretty, they weren’t playing particularly well. That and Public Image Ltd. It was so strange, and I couldn’t understand why people would make those choices. I love the absurdity of it, the commitment to something that to other ears is completely meaningless. It’s not cheaply "anti-".

I fell in love with modern dance when I was young. It’s kind of embarrassing, because I don’t know anything about it. But I always found it really compelling; people do these things that are largely laughable outside of a very small group. And yet they’re doing this, full commitment. This is what they do for a living, this is what they do. I’m a much more balanced guy, so I’m always impressed with it.

What do you do to create unresolvedness?
I just put myself in a bad position. I keep first takes; I try not to change things. I don’t write lyrics till the day that I sing them. I’m a very controlling guy, naturally very ordered. I have obsessive-compulsive disorder. I have to keep myself on my back foot by doing things as quickly as I can, and keeping them whether they’re fucked up or not, and trying to work with the fucked-upness.

You think the sound is better when it happens naturally?
When things are too perfect, I lose interest. I like when you’re forced to go with your instinct, because there’s not a real good intellectual basis for it. There’s something kind of lovely about being committed to something that’s very difficult to define intellectually.

You don’t really collaborate with anyone, right?
Not too much. When I do, I tend to get wrapped up in their feelings, and worried about making them feel bad. I try to do it myself as much as possible. Then I’m just focused on what’s best, and I can be cruel. With this band, I’ve been very clear that this is my thing. Everyone’s been really respectful. When the band comes in to play, they kind of expect me to be a little bit bonkers about stuff. And we’ve known each other for a long time, we’re all friends.

Is there something inherently sexual about music?
For me, music is body music. There’s something that’s overwhelming about it, even when it’s really simple or intellectualized or lyrical. I always listen to music really loud, I play music really loud. Good bass and really shiny treble that makes it feel like your skin is tingling. That’s just my favorite stuff.

I’m an explainer, but in reality I don’t operate particularly intellectually in making music. It’s pretty visceral and physical. I was playing bass yesterday and it was just an eyes-closed, insanely loud experience for me. You use the thinking to get in — otherwise you’re in jam-band world — and then it’s time to feel your way through it.

Do you have a studio?
I have a proper studio in the West Village. I don’t work on a laptop. I work in a regular studio, with a mixing board and amplifiers and drums. I’m a musician first, so I play drums and bass and guitar and keyboards. I need to be able to play. I can’t work at home, it’s too loud. Someday I’d love to build a studio at home, but it’s kind of a big task.

How would your wife like that?
I think she’d like it, because I’d be able to take breaks and be home, rather than be away all day.

How long have you been with your wife, Mandy?
I don’t know when we got married. I’m not really good with years. At least she doesn’t get mad at me for that. Three, four years, something like that. I met her in January of 2003. So much about us makes no sense. We have this really domestic life. We have a dog and we just watch TV. It’s really sweet and we’re really good for each other. But we met at 6 a.m. on New Year’s Eve. You know, everything about our relationship should be really crass and wrong, and it’s actually really balanced and calm and sweet and really wonderful.

She’s a musician too, right?
Yeah, she was in an electroclash band, and I was the DFA Records guy. Everything about it seemed posed and horrifying.

Do you guys ever play together?
No. She was more of a clothing designer. She was just kind of there, singing a bit. It wasn’t her main thing. She has a work room at the house and she makes stuff. And she’s going back to school now.

Do you use music to change your mood?
Yeah, but mostly music can only do one thing for me: it can make me melancholy. Other than that, I can’t really get much mood out of music. Angry music doesn’t make me angry, happy music doesn’t make me happy, fun music doesn’t make me have fun. But melancholy music makes me deeply melancholy and nostalgic. I think it’s the Irish in me. It’s just sitting there, like I have a big melancholy receptor.

"New York, I Love You But You’re Bringing Me Down" is a love song, but it’s also a maybe an I-don’t-know-anymore song.
Oh no no. It’s a dedicated love song. But it’s filled with tragedy. Love songs have to have tragedy in them.

Have you ever written a love song for a person?
No, I’ve never written love songs for a person. I think I could only write that love song because it was about a city. I was allowed.

But you express emotion in your songs. . .
A lot of emotions! I think certain things are cheap short cuts and are over-trodden territory.

Like what?
Love songs. Songs about relationships, for the most part, I find kind of trite. Plus I don’t have very much to write about, because I write from perspectives and I’m in a certain perspective right now. Jonathan Richman could write a great song about how he’s happily married, but usually, it’s not very compelling.

I thought "Time To Get Away" could be a break up song.
It kind of is, but it’s not about a relationship. I don’t want to get myself in trouble talking about it.

Are people treating you differently now?
Not too much. When albums come out, there’s an attention thing and then it goes away. I expect this will go away after the album quiets down.

Where there lots of musician girls trying to get in with you then?
When you’re a DJ people hit on you all the time. But not when you’re in a band. But also, I’m super defended; I don’t go out and talk to people when we play. I’m too busy, and I live backstage. I’m super private.

So DJ’s get laid more than musicians?
I think so! They have more time!  n°

To order Sound of Silver, click here.

© 2007 Catrinel Bartolomeu & hooksexup.com