Judging by LCD Soundsystem’s packed show at Hayden Homes Amphitheater last year, it might seem impossible that the group, fronted by James Murphy, was destined for anything but greatness.
But flashback 23 years ago to a period shortly after 9/11: Murphy was having a creative — if not full-blown identity — crisis. The founder and operator of Manhattan record label DFA (along with then-partner Tim Goldsworthy) had produced and released The Rapture’s “House of Jealous Lovers” in 2002. The disco punk single was a smash hit, vaulting to ninth in the Village Voice’s venerable Pazz & Jop list for singles that year.
But still waters ran deep.
To hear it from Murphy in “Meet Me in the Bathroom,” an oral history tome and subsequent 2022 documentary by filmmaker Lizzy Goodman, the producer and former indie rock supporting man had clashed with The Rapture in the recording studio; they later left his label for lack of a timely release of their sophomore album “Echoes,” according to the documentary. But Murphy had more than the chutzpa to royally piss off someone else’s band — he had the artistic conviction to front his own. Through his production work, Murphy was making headway into the natal, funky dance punk scene that was taking over New York dive bars and dance floors. But he wasn’t leading the charge. At a seemingly do-or-die moment, Murphy sat down to jot some diaristic lyrics:
“I’m losing my edge to the art-school Brooklynites in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered eighties / I’m losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent / But they’re actually really, really, nice.”
The screed, which became the 2002 single “Losing My Edge,” is self-effacing yet cheeky, laced with disco hi-hats and fuzzy production reminiscent of the German arty rock band Can, CBGB proto-punkers Suicide and the South Bronx’s ESG. Murphy tapped musicians/drinking buddies Nancy Whang, Pat Mahoney, Tyler Pope, Al Doyle and Korey Richey to flesh out the band. With their help, Murphy shaped an infectious sound into the group’s eponymous, 2005 debut LP.
Those aforementioned kids in little jackets were nice enough to catapult LCD through the indie stratosphere and beyond. The band would scoop up two Grammy nominations and top innumerable critics’ and bloggers’ Best Of lists. Persnickety Pitchfork even took a shine.
After subsequently failing at quitting (LCD advertised its 2011 show at Madison Square Garden as its last) Murphy and company have etched their names in the pantheon of New York heavies of the aughts, the recently coined “Indie Sleaze Era.” So much for staying innocuous.
TV On The Radio
That Brooklyn’s TV On The Radio is touring with LCD Soundsystem makes perfect sense, as they came up in very compatible cultural and sonic spaces. No doubt, a Venn Diagram of their respective fan bases would form a perfect circle. TVOTR made big waves with its debut EP, “Young Liars,” in 2003, and bigger waves the next year with “Desperate Youth, Blood Thirsty Babes.” The debut album is a gauzy, brassy, yelping and soulful trip through a black-lit rock quarry. In the intermittent years, TVOTR put out four albums and toured the globe, most recently, in promotion of “Desperate Youth,” which the band remastered and re-released in 2024. Throughout, breakup rumors dogged the band. In a May 13 interview with the CBC, frontman Tunde Adebimpe spoke nonchalantly about chronic exhaustion. Having reunited last year for a European tour, Adebimpe said the chemistry among his TVOTR bandmates “feels great.”
“The cool thing about taking a break is how everyone goes to their corner of the Earth and learns their special type of kung fu,” he said. “Then they come back to the Voltron and team up to fight crime.”
TV On The Radio
This article appears in Source Weekly May 22, 2025.
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