JOSH O’KANE
Canadian University Press

NEW YORK (CUP) — Wearing a black suit, an untucked shirt and his late father’s watch, James Murphy almost couldn’t finish what he started.

He tried. He’d make a quick quip, he’d tickle a keyboard, but he couldn’t start.

“New York, I Love You, But You’re Bringing Me Down.” Once he started that song, he had to finish it. And finishing that song meant closing the book of the last 10 years of his life.

Murphy has made it clear for the past year that his band, LCD Soundsystem, was almost done. Even before they put out 2010’s This is Happening, he declared the band would tour the world once more and that’s it.

LCD, then, became master of their own fate — rather than burn out or fade away, they would simply stop being LCD Soundsystem.

It made for a bittersweet year, and a more bittersweet farewell. The band booked Madison Square Garden, defeating the odds imposed on them by their otherwise no-pretension, no-bullshit, do-it-yourself attitude. Once they booked the Garden, the odds stacked further out of their favour: Scalpers allegedly nabbed almost all of the show’s tickets within a moment of them going on sale.

But the Garden filled, and people came from around the world, no matter the cost — from Los Angeles to Brooklyn, from Toronto to Dublin. At the request of the band, many dressed in black and white to respect the show’s funeral-party theme.

At four hours, it was a funeral fit for royalty.

LCD plowed through three sets and two encores, paying tribute to their entire discography. Murphy’s troupe has always escaped musical definition, though dance-punk has always fit them best: A band whose purpose was to make people dance, but defying any rules that come with that label.

The band played their set without reservations. They hit the stage to “Dance Yrself Clean,” a build-up opener built up even more by a surprise men’s choir appearing from the bleachers behind the stage. They blasted through more of the beginning of This is Happening, with the realization of the band’s end largely disregarded except for Murphy’s thankful banter and the screams of some 14,000 fans.

They played the hits — “Daft Punk,” of course, and a mind-blowing, audience-riling version of “All My Friends” — and old favourites, inviting original LCD guitarist Phil Mossman onstage for “Too Much Love.”

The centrepiece of the second set was perhaps one of the band’s least-known songs, though one of their best: “45:33,” a track whose title reflects its length, and which sports giant Nike commissioned Murphy to write. LCD’s longest composition, the band played it through — minus the section that became “Someone Great,” replaced instead by “Sound of Silver.”

The troupe was joined by an enormous cast of supporting players throughout the evening, from a horn section and men’s choir throughout, to Reggie Watts, Shit Robot and the Juan MacLean for 45:33. During the third set, members of Arcade Fire, friends of LCD’s from a past tour — they even released a split 7-inch together — joined the band onstage for “North American Scum,” which LCD hadn’t played in years.

LCD closed the third set with a trio of old hits, ending with “Yeah,” their funkiest jam. They returned to the stage with “Someone Great.” It’s a song with blunt-force sentimental imagery about losing someone important, and the audience did not hesitate to go apeshit over its metaphorical meaning on this night.

But it was the second encore that incited the most emotion. After “Losing My Edge,” after “Home,” after “All I Want,” after Harry Nilsson’s “Jump Into the Fire,” Murphy finally got emotional. The band had kept their composure all night, relying on excitement over sadness to drive their energy.

But as Murphy introduced his friends and family, including his siblings and their kids, his emotion got real. He told the audience about his father’s watch. Suddenly he struggled to finish what he started. He had one last love letter to send to New York, though, and after a few false starts, he was ready to seal the envelope: “New York, I Love You, But You’re Bringing Me Down.”

Starting slow and building up, Murphy sent his letter off with a bang — and thousands of white balloons. And as the band played their final chord and left the stage, he sauntered behind, having finally finished what he started.

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image: Josh O’Kane/CUP