Filed under: Nina, Uncategorized | Tags: concerts, james murphy, lcd soundsystem, summer of the midlife crisis, the orpheum, this is happening
This was originally going to be a post full of sweet photos of LCD Soundsystem rocking out. I was so ready. I was so ready with two low-light lenses and too-cool press photographer hubris (I’ve shot for blogs, guys, I got this!) that when I got to the Orpheum last Tuesday and the hawk-eyed matronly ushers informed us that we could only shoot halfway back through the crowd, I was completely stupefied. I was oh so ready except I had nothing even resembling a zoom lens, so really I was shit out of luck. Failball.
Fumbled through some shots of pretty lights for the requisite three songs and disappeared into the crowd out of sight of Crabby McLazer-Eyes, who was fit to eject me for not having a real ticket. Nothing left to do but watch James Murphy do his thang.
On more than one occasion I’ve jokingly referred to the musical state of 2010 as the Summer of the Midlife Crisis, and LCD Soundsystem’s This Is Happening is pretty emblematic of this phenomenon. The first thing I catch onto in a song is lyrics and I guess I’m always skeptical when such overtly morose songs tack on dancey beats and inspire thousands of glazed-eye Urban Outfitters poster kids to fist pump like there’s no tomorrow. It took seeing LCD Soundsystem play live to understand the zen-like brilliance of Murphy’s musical philosophy. As Thao Nguyen once murmured in the opening to a song, “Sad people dance too.” It’s as good a cure as any.
Someone great is gone? Might as well dance.
You’re getting old and your rock star life is overwhelming and you miss your friends? Just dance.
Losing your edge to the art-school Brooklynites in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered eighties? Dance yourself young.
Talking like a jerk except you are an actual jerk? Dance yourself clean.
Didn’t accept a job writing for Seinfeld in your 20s? Well there’s really not much you can do about that, but I’m sure dancing will take your mind off of it.
So I danced. And so did everyone else. My most frequent criticism of large Boston concerts is that the crowds tend to be completely sober and immobilized even during the bounciest of sets. But the crowd at the Orpheum was definitely on their A-game that night. They were dancing standing up in their seats because schoolmarmy women patrolled the aisles with iron fists and horn-rimmed glasses. They were dancing and waving glowsticks and cell phones and arms. They danced and the ridiculously ornate 104-year old theater clouded up with dry ice and body heat and human sweat, partially because the air conditioner seemed to be broken, but mostly because bodies were actually moving.
Sure, some of these bodies were on drugs. In fact, my hiding place in the crowd was directly beside a jumping writhing soaking wet couple that kept whisper-yelling sweet nothings like “Baby I love you. Baby I love drugs. Baby I’m so glad we have drugs.” Even better, immediately ahead was a foot-stomping fist-pumping chant-yelling bro who was getting down with his back to the stage so that he could give passersby in the aisle high-fives and spontaneous massages. (Dude won my respect when he managed to get a diminutive Betty White-esque usher to give him a pound.)
Let’s be honest, the whole scenario was several kinds of absurd. But beyond the thick layers of cognitive dissonance, it was a damn good show. Stumbling out of the Orpheum into a world without strobe lights I could pick out people from the show all the way down to the 57 bus in Allston by how sweaty they were. And that’s what it’s all about, right? Gold stars for Boston, and James Murphy is still in the running for world’s hippest dad. Yeah.