Sign in to turn on 1-Click ordering.
More Buying Choices
Amazon Add to Cart
Includes (What's this?)
Have one to sell? Sell yours here
Available to Download Now
Buy the MP3 album for 6.49

This Is Happening [Digipak] [Limited Edition]

LCD Soundsystem Audio CD
4.5 out of 5 stars  See all reviews (25 customer reviews)
Price: 10.00 & FREE Delivery in the UK. Details
o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o
In stock.
Sold by westworld- and Fulfilled by Amazon. Gift-wrap available.
Want it Monday, 14 July? Choose Express delivery at checkout. Details
Buy the MP3 album for 6.49 at the Amazon Digital Music Store.

‹  Return to Product Overview

Product Description


On first listen, the third album from James Murphy's LCD Soundsystem project feels a lot like a sequel to the group's 2007 opus, Sound Of Silver. There are familiar touchstones–-New York disco, electronic Krautrock, the '70s output of David Bowie and Brian Eno--and a similar pace, shifting deftly between pneumatic dance and soft synth-pop, sincerity and goofiness, snark and pathos. There are signs that This Is Happening works to an updated formula, though: new to the fold is Gavin Russom, synthesiser wizard behind DFA's Black Meteoric Star, who adds brilliant, squelchy analogue synth to the likes of "One Touch" and "Somebody's Calling Me". Lead single "Drunk Girls" is this record’s "North American Scum", a bubblegum bounce-along with a vocal nod to Bowie’s "Boys Keep Swinging". This Is Happening is at its best, though, when LCD space out and lock into driving grooves like the drum machine-powered "Pow Pow" or "You Wanted A Hit", a lean chug that finds Murphy at his most lyrically acerbic: "But maybe we don’t do hits", he snaps. This album says otherwise. –-Louis Pattison

Product Description

Third studio album from James Murphy's LCD Soundsystem, featuring the single 'Drunk Girls'.

BBC Review

Every album is to an extent the product of its creators' record collections. That's brazenly been the case with LCD Soundsystem since their arrival in 2002 with Losing My Edge, on which James Murphy at once mocks and vaunts the faultless alternative credentials of his own. This arch narrative plays out above a punk-funk groove that spawned a genre's worth of copyists and, with fitting irony, set LCD Soundsystem on the path to joining the pantheon the song described.

The process continued with 2005's self-titled debut and 2007's Sound of Silver, which deserves a slot in any serious list of the decade's best albums. Given that trajectory, expectations were high that This Is Happening, allegedly the final LCD Soundsystem album, might represent the project's apogee. Sadly, it doesn't: despite occasional flashes of brilliance it's a patchy, derivative work.

Murphy delighted in listing his inspirations and influences on the first LCD album, and elements of Bowie, Eno and Reed had clearly been folded into LCD's own style on Sound of Silver. Here, however, the influences aren't so much discernible as obvious to the point of distraction. All I Want is a passable power ballad containing some great waspish one-liners, but first you have to get past how much the guitar part sounds like the distinctive sustain created by Robert Fripp for Bowie's "Heroes". Joined by another aping the effect-slathered tones of Eno's St Elmo's Fire, these strong aural borrowings overpower everything else. It's as if Murphy took those two records as a starting point for his own composition, then forgot to go anywhere.

Similar problems beset Somebody's Calling Me, a blatant revisiting of Iggy Pop's Nightclubbing. Even LCD's own back catalogue isn't safe: Pow Pow updates Yeah, while One Touch pillages Too Much Love. Far worse than these instances of borderline plagiarism and autophagy, though, is You Wanted a Hit. A self-indulgent nine-minute whine about record companies and touring, the brute humourlessness of it is staggering given Murphy's gift for smart, sly self-reflexive commentary.

The disappointment This Is Happening causes is all the sharper given the way it begins. Dance Yrself Clean opens with a naive vocal melody accompanied by 8-bit curlicues, before bursting into a gigantic breakbeat-driven block-rocker. Murphy's lyric touches on the same territory as All My Friends, the narrator's hedonistic impulses shaded by an awareness that he's too old to still be feeling this way. It's as wry and emotionally resonant as it is physically bone-shaking, and nothing else here comes close to matching it. --Chris Power

Find more music at the BBC This link will take you off Amazon in a new window

‹  Return to Product Overview