LCD Soundsystem

M.I.A.

El Rey - May 15, 2005

Live Review by Adam McKibbin

Sledding in on separate avalanches of hype, hip-hop sensation M.I.A. and disco-punk headliners LCD Soundsystem had sold out the El Rey, packing it full of the curious, politely pretentious breed known as the Hipster—quick to give their hearts, but quick to turn their cold shoulders.  It was obvious even standing outside, though, that this was a crowd still in the throes of early romance.  Safe passage, sailors.

The love would grow.  M.I.A., fresh off an appearance at Coachella that left new converts buzzing, confidently charged through a good chunk of Arular, joking at one point late in her set—when the crowd was voraciously pleading for more—that she didn’t have enough material to extend her time on stage.  Raw in terms of production, the grit and big beats of Arular translated easily to the stage—part Spring Break, part street protest.  Her signature visual aesthetic, here represented on video screens aside the stage, is also one marked by contrast:  bombs and slogans appearing in the midst of otherwise innocuous, pastel-colored, retro-flavored animation.  M.I.A.’s stage persona, too, is several-sided.  Blink once and she’s just a girl emulating her heroes and heroines, rhyming nonsensically and silly-dancing on stage to the whistling beat of “Big Pimpin'.”  Blink again and she’s devastating the straight guys in the audience with knowing rolls of her hips, rapping about armed resistance and underage prostitution.  Her staying power is debatable, but there’s no mistaking 2005 as her year.

LCD leader James Murphy’s rise has been less meteoric, building instead through an armload of killer singles and the success of his DFA label.  Anyone expecting a coolly precise electronic show—a man and his machines—would be blown away by the full band, surely one of the more energetic outfits on the road right now.  Beats hit a lot harder when they’re live, and LCD Soundsystem's percussionists are punishers.  While Murphy flailed and posed and hollered and whacked cowbells, his band absolutely torched tracks like “Tribulations,” “Yeah,” and “Losing My Edge” (the latter managing to soar even though the lyrics, clearly the main highlight of the recorded version, were completely buried beneath the squall).  On stage, the band was able to build to bigger and more dramatic climaxes than on disc.  In response, even the hardened hipsters in this famously immobile city jumped around and roared their approval.  Hype can fill a room in L.A., but it won’t make it bounce.  This was the real deal.