To understand James Murphy's headspace during LCD Soundsystem's breakthrough year, track down a copy of DFA Records: Radio Mixes 2005. (Beyond the occasional copy that surfaces on eBay, it won't be easy.) 

The three-CD set, marked "for promotional use only," features two CDs mixed by "James Murphy aka LCD Soundsystem" and one by labelmate The Juan MacLean. 

Murphy's discs are a preserved-in-amber snapshot of peak-era DFA Records, his hipster-cool label, complete with in-house edits of Hot Chip, Soulwax and Gavin & Delia. However, the mixes also illustrate something that's as true of Murphy today as it was in 2005. In short, he stays restless.

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CD One luxuriates in the past, swerving from Francine McGee's obscure disco to The Bee Gees and on to the spiky distortion of Six Finger Satellite, the band for which Murphy once served as live sound engineer. CD Two is ostensibly clubbier, despite bearing little resemblance to the fluid mix CDs celebrated in the mid-2000s. In Murphy's world, a club set means mixing '70s prog rock band Atomic Rooster into French techno don Laurent Garnier. The dissonance is the point. 

LCD Soundsystem's self-titled debut album, which dropped on DFA in January 2005, wasn't exactly an introduction to a bright-eyed newcomer. 

Then-34-year-old James Murphy was already a reluctant indie hero. He had the trendy record label, founded with U.K. transplant Tim Goldsworthy after the two met working on David Holmes' 2000 electronica album, Bow Down To The Exit Sign. Unlike most DJs, Murphy was a reliable source for smart, curmudgeonly quotes. Best of all, he'd already made a handful of tunes, notably "Losing My Edge" (2002) and "Yeah" (2004), that pitched LCD Soundsystem as the dance band rock kids could like. 

The Y2K era was instrumental in Murphy's dance music conversion. In the days before DFA, he knocked around New York City, seeing bands in the East Village and Lower East Side. "I drank bourbon and I ate garbage," he told the Taste podcast in 2019. (These days, Murphy sticks to natural wines, which star at his Williamsburg wine bar/restaurant, The Four Horsemen.) 

Murphy's first night out on ecstasy, with David Holmes DJing, was life-changing. "I was dancing and I was happy and I had a revelation: this is actually me," he recalls in Lizzy Goodman's book, Meet Me In The Bathroom. House music now made sense to him, but not just anything with a kick drum would do. A punk kid at heart, he wanted analog and imperfect over synthetic and streamlined. "After that moment, I danced to what I cared about," Murphy told Goodman. 

He learned to DJ from Marcus Lambkin, aka Shit Robot, an Irish expat in New York. Lambkin introduced Murphy to Plant Bar in the East Village, where DFA established a renegade residency throughout then-Mayor Bloomberg's club crackdown. (At the first sight of cops, the door person would flick on a light in the DJ booth, signaling them to stop the music.) Murphy often mixed his newfound passions for DJing and altered states. "I used to take two ecstasy pills, break them into quarters, and put them on the corners of the two turntables, and work my way through them as a DJ set went on," he told New York Magazine in 2007. 

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But for every high, there's a comedown. By the early 2000s, Murphy was bristling at other DJs aping his anything-goes style. He went from mad at New York's would-be hipsters to "horrified at my own silliness," as he put it to journalist John Doran. Out of that malaise came "Losing My Edge," a prickly, self-lacerating and still-funny rant with a danceable beat. In both its theme and scuffed lo-fi sound, it set a template for future LCD Soundsystem. Among the song's many quotable lines about "the kids," one gets to the cold heart of it: "I can hear their footsteps every night on the decks." 

In tandem with losing his edge, Murphy began work on Echoes, the breakout debut album from fellow NYC dance-punk outfit, The Rapture. Throughout 2003, Murphy and Goldsworthy, who together formed the production team The DFA, named after their label, joined the band at Plantain Recording House, the producers' own West Village studio. Released that September, Echoes hit big. At the height of the site's tastemaking power, Pitchfork rated it 9.0, officially coronating The Rapture as the new faces of the post-punk revival of the early 2000s.

However, the band had left DFA for a lucrative contract with Universal. Murphy was furious at the betrayal. In 2004, The Rapture played the Outdoor Theatre stage on day one of Coachella. Further down the poster, two font sizes smaller, was LCD Soundsystem.

Murphy worked on his own debut album around the Echoes sessions. When everyone went out, he'd stay back and tinker late into the night. "For about two and a half years, I didn't have a home, so I lived in the studio," he told XLR8R in 2005. Despite his punk rock pose, Murphy obsessed over the fine details. He finally had a set of songs worthy of showing up The Rapture. 

Read: James Murphy On Advice From David Bowie, Being "Done" With Producing

LCD Soundsystem properly introduced the two definitions of LCD Soundsystem. First, the name belonged to one guy alone in the studio, channeling his influences, and his spite, into a singular vision.

Second, it was the name of a band with serious live clout. Murphy's bandmates, including Nancy Whang, Pat Mahoney, Tyler Pope and the late Jerry Fuchs, were all prodigious musicians. The power of their combined sound cemented LCD Soundsystem as one of the most exciting live acts on the circuit—in any genre. In 2005, Murphy and co. played Glastonbury for the first time and joined M.I.A. on her Arular Tour. Members came and went, but LCD Soundsystem stayed a band you need to see live. 

LCD Soundsystem perform live in 2017 | Photo: Tim Mosenfelder/Getty Images

Even 15 years on, LCD Soundsystem oscillates between the solo visionary and the pumped-up live unit. The image of Murphy up late with his machines is still vivid on quieter cuts like "Never As Tired As When I'm Waking Up" and "Great Release." Murphy finessed the former after-hours during the Echoes sessions, playing piano in the building's elevator shaft to get the right sound. By contrast, the rowdier LCD standards "Daft Punk Is Playing At My House" and "Tribulations" have come to feel inseparable from their live incarnations. However the songs were first conceived, they now belong to LCD Soundsystem, the band. 

The in-between songs on LCD Soundsystem reward revisits. There's the louche "Too Much Love," peppered by cowbell and Murphy's ambling vocals, and the nasally sneer of "On Repeat," which struts and stumbles past eight minutes. Meanwhile, "Thrills" channels Timbaland's beats on Missy Elliott's "Get Ur Freak On," while "Movement" is one of the punkiest curios in the LCD canon. 

LCD's debut included a bonus disc with previously released songs like "Losing My Edge," "Yr City's A Sucker" and the "Pretentious" and "Crass" versions of "Yeah." All the hits were there, but the deep cuts made it an undeniable album.

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Elsewhere, 2005 was big for bands making dance music with guitars. From the synthy stomp of Franz Ferdinand's You Could Have It So Much Better to Bloc Party's exhilarating debut Silent Alarm, LCD Soundsystem fit the zeitgeist. M.I.A.'s Arular and Kanye West's Late Registration also shared James Murphy's maverick spirit. It was a good time for talented control freaks.

LCD Soundsystem brought Murphy his critical validation, in addition to two GRAMMY nominations in 2006, including Best Electronic/Dance Album and Best Dance Recording for album single "Daft Punk Is Playing At My House." But its creator didn't settle. He continued to DJ and give opinionated interviews, directing the sharpest barbs at himself. Then, as the era's "blog house" DJs rinsed their favorite LCD remixes, Murphy went to work on a new album. 

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Released in 2007, LCD Soundsystem's Sound Of Silver was an instant classic. (Not for nothing, it one-upped The Rapture with a 9.2 rating from Pitchfork.) Songs like "All My Friends" and "North American Scum" made good on the scrappy promise of LCD's debut.

"Great Release," the final song on LCD Soundsystem, fades out to a gentle fuzz. We hear a creak, then a sound like a door closing after a studio all-nighter. The early days ended there, but LCD Soundsystem had only just begun.

'It's Blitz!' At 10: How The Dancefloor Classic Marked A New Era For The Yeah Yeah Yeahs

Over two decades ago, Kurt Cobain famously declared his unapologetic stance — from supporting gay rights to his skepticism about reality — in Nirvana's 1993 GRAMMY-nominated single "All Apologies."

Cobain probed in the opening verse, "What else should I be?/ All apologies," Cobain questioned in the opening verse. "What else could I say?/ Everyone is gay/ What else could I write/ I don't have the right."

In this episode of ReImagined, alternative newcomer Siiickbrain delivers her rendition of the In Utero track, channeling the '90s aesthetic with a vintage camera. Like Cobain, Siiickbrain uses her songwriting to confront and address her mental health.

"[My struggles with mental health] made me want to speak on it within my music, and it kind of gave me a foundation for what I'm doing," Siiickbrain said in an interview with Kerrang! "It gave me a purpose to write about certain things and bring awareness to how common these feelings are."

On March 29, Siiickbrain released "when i fall," featuring Shiloh Dynasty and No Love For The Middle Child, which she describes to Alternative Press as based on "true events that were written and performed as [No Love For The Middle Child and I] were recovering from the challenges of a relationship while simultaneously creating music together." 

Press play on the video above to hear Siiickbrain's cover of Nirvana's "All Apologies," and remember to check back to GRAMMY.com for more new episodes of ReImagined.

Behind The Scenes With Nirvana Photog Charles Peterson

GRAMMY-winning French electro duo Justice have always moved to the tune of their own drum machine.

Gaspard Augé and Xavier de Rosnay's debut release, 2003's "We Are Your Friends," was a radical reimagining of a tune from experimental psych-rock group Simian. Originally a remix made for a Parisian college radio contest, "We Are Your Friends" didn't win, but grabbed the attention of Daft Punk's manager Pedro Winter, who had just founded his impactful indie dance label Ed Banger Records. The track eventually became an anthem of the bloghouse era.

Response to their second single — 2005's glitchy, fuzzy "Waters of Nazareth" — nearly made them reconsider their decision to switch careers from graphic design to electronic music. Two years later, the duo had another major hit — along with their first GRAMMY nominations and some international chart success — with their third single, "D.A.N.C.E.", a joyous bop sung by a youth chorus. 

While their core influences of disco, electro, funk and psych rock remain, Justice is not interested in rehashing the same sounds. They are interested in making you feel, and the sounds that get them the most excited in the studio are the strange and boundary-pushing ones.

They're beloved for their high-production live show, where they mashup and reimagine their biggest tunes into a frenzy of sound and lights. They debuted a new live show at Coachella 2024, which features a dizzying new light contraption created over 18 months by their long-time lightning designer Vincent Lérisson. After each studio album, they produce a live album from the subsequent tour, a costly and time-consuming project which they recently told Billboard nearly bankrupts them every time. Yet their last, 2018's Woman Worldwide, won a GRAMMY award for Best Dance/Electronic Album.

Justice is just as meticulous in the studio. For their first studio album in eight years, Hyperdrama, (out on April 26 on Ed Banger/Because Music), they created hundreds of versions of each track and spent an extra year on the album stitching the best parts together. While they've produced for and remixed plenty of big names over the years, the new album is their first to feature recognizable stars like Tame Impala, Miguel and Thundercat, along with Rimon, Connan Mockasin and the Flints.

GRAMMY.com caught up with Xavier de Rosnay to dive deep into the creation of Hyperdrama, the album's new collabs, Justice's new live show, and more.

This interview has been edited for clarity.

How were your performances at Coachella?

It was good. It was only the second show of the tour. And the beginning of the tool is generally where there's a lot of space for improvement. We could definitely feel that we did better [on weekend 2] than the week before because we were a bit more relaxed, a bit more accustomed to the stage setup and to what we used to conduct the music and everything. Everything felt more fluid. But there can be a difference between what we feel and how the crowd feels, and that's impossible for us to say.

How did you envision this new live show and what are you excited about bringing it around the world?

The way we envision it is as has been the same since the beginning, it's just now we have access to a larger array of technologies to be able to do that. We've always liked the idea of instead of hiding the technical aspects of the stage, enhancing them in every way possible. Everything you see on stage at the beginning [of the show] is stuff that is very mechanical, technical and that are meant to be on stage. As it evolves, everything is moving and lit up.

We hope that there's a lot of moments where the audience can actually get lost [in the moment] and not fully understand what's happening on stage because of the way things are lit. We know the matrix of the stage in and out, but sometimes we see things we don't really understand because it creates a dimensional space that is difficult to comprehend at times. For us, that's the best, it's when we have kind of magic moments.

And musically, same thing, it's always the same as from the beginning but better, freer, bigger. Justice live is Justice's greatest hits; we're not the kind of band that won't play the hits and will force feed the weird [tracks]. For us, it has to be a big party, it has to be fun from top to bottom. Although it's only our fourth album, now we feel we have enough of a catalog to make something that is relentless and fun from the beginning to the end.

I definitely feel a cinematic journey on the new album, is that intentional? And what's the story you're trying to tell with Hyperdrama?

Well, it's intentional in the way that the most powerful music is music that brings images to the mind. Classical pieces of music, like Beethoven's Fifth Symphony, are the biggest hits ever and they have no drums, no beats, no lyrics. But they've been the biggest hits for centuries because they have a very powerful, evocative strength. For us, music is first and foremost meant to reveal this. So we never make music with the idea that it has to be for dancing or pop or anything, we always make music to try to convey powerful emotions. Although we didn't work with a theme like cinematic in our mind, we're happy to hear that some listeners are feeling that way.

The way the album is structured is very classic in the sense that it's structured like a lot of narrative forms. The beginning of the record, let's say the first third, is setting the tone and feeling at home. After our first album, we entertained the idea of starting every album with the theme of "Genesis," a bit like when you go to the cinema and hear the 20th century theme.

You feel good for three, four songs, you go on cruise control and then things start to drift a bit. For [Hyperdrama], that's "Moonlight Rendez-Vous" and "Explorer" — when things start to turn wrong a bit and, and then you go into a sort of vortex, like on "Muscle Memory," "Harpy Dream." In a film, that would be when the goofy sidekick of the protagonist dies. At that moment, you think everything is at its worst, then you have the final drop with "Saturnine" and "The End," which is a bit like the homecoming and happy ending situation — you're back at home again and hopefully you end on a positive note.

Is it kind of a Justice Space Odyssey?

Yeah, totally. I think for as long as we make music, we'll always try to make everything sound a bit like a space odyssey. It's funny that you mentioned space odyssey because [Hyperdrama] has four different sections that are very distinct. That's something that we love too — connecting things that don't really make sense at first glance.

Within some tracks, for example "Incognito," we're going from this almost psychedelic funk intro, and then you have a straight cut and you're in the future, everything is electronic. Things don't really make sense at first, but you listen to it and you get used to [this kind of transition].

And that was something where we really worked on a lot on this album, to make those different universes coexist and sometimes in a not very peaceful way. It can be a bit off-putting at first listen, but that's what's great with the record. You can feel it's a bit strange and you return to it and hopefully you start getting used to these kinds of things until they become almost natural.

The two of us have been working closely for a long time, so getting surprised and sometimes getting a bit unsettled is really what we're looking for in the studio. Generally, when we start to track and we're having a laugh because we are feeling we're going too far, it's something we've haven't done before, or we're making something ridiculous, that's a very good sign. These are typically the things we're looking for when we write a track or produce a song. 

"Incognito" feels very classic Justice, although you've said Travis Scott's "Sicko Mode" kind of inspired its shifts. How did "Incognito" come together and how did it shake up your songwriting process? 

I think the "Sicko Mode" thing is getting a bit bigger than what it is. It was not like we had an epiphany hearing that song. We think it's a great track, but for us, it was more of a reminder that it's always possible in any context to approach things in a very naïve way in a sense, and that it's possible to escape the canon of classical structures and classical writing and still achieve something that is surprising and free and that is legible for a vast amount of people. The principle of juxtaposing things that are foreign next to each other is not new, but to see it on such a big song always gives us a lot of hope about music in general. 

"Incognito," "One Night/All Night," "Generator," "Afterimage" and "Dear Alan" all work a bit on that principle that we had where we recorded several versions of the same track, of the same riff separately. For "Incognito," we had a plan of the song very precisely from the demo. But when we produced it, we recorded the intro and outro, that was one track that we mixed and produced separately. All the electronic parts were another track, all the disco parts in the middle were another. We produced and mixed them separately and only during mastering, we brought them back together. We really wanted to feel like it was separate songs that we'd put together.  

Would you say you are perfectionists? 

No, because there is no such thing as perfection. For us, the best we can do is make something that we feel good about, and this is when we know it's done. It's not perfection because we're not looking to make something that checks all the boxes of what perfection should be. 

Most of the music that we listen to is not perfect to any extent. But for us, it's perfect when it's faithful to the original feeling and idea we had when we started putting those songs together.

I've been really obsessed with "One Night/All Night." What was it like working with Tame Impala's Kevin Parker, and how did you find that mesh between your sounds?

We didn't think of "One Night/All Night" as a song with vocals at first.  We played [the demo] for Kevin and he was like, "I can hear something in that one." His vocal topline really adds some sort of weird sadness and melancholy to the track. The main riff is so simple, I think the simplest we've ever made, the dun dun dun. That's what is great with collaborating, a topline can very much shape a song. We fell in love with that new emotion that he brought to the song.

We really wanted to sound like we had found an unused Kevin Parker song, and sampled it and made a futuristic song with it. So we re-recorded the disco parts; it's almost like the disco part in the middle was the original record and what's before and after is the modernized version of it. And in the intro, his voice is in a key that is a bit off-putting. It builds up slowly and when the first chorus hits, you have his real voice that is instantly recognizable and very powerful and everything comes together — it's a beautiful moment to us.

It was really fun working with him. I mean, it was fun working with everyone [on Hyperdrama]. We almost felt like a mouse in a hole just looking out at things; you get to see everybody's idiosyncrasies and the way they think about music.

Why did you want to make a sonic tribute to Alan Braxe on "Dear Alan"? 

It's more of an inside joke than anything, but in the realm of electronic music, he's been an inspiration for us from the beginning. He's always had this kind of melancholic thing to his music that a lot of other bands from the French Touch first wave don't really have. For us, the French Touch first wave is more like shiny club music that's very euphoric. Alan Braxe was always a bit less dance-y but a bit more melancholic and elegant in a way, and that touches us a lot more than straight dance music. 

We also love his persona. The guy has been releasing maybe one song every three years for the past 20 years. This guy is even less productive than we are. But every time he puts one song out, it's always a gem, it's perfect. I don't think he's ever released one bad track.

The track is based on the sample of "Dear Brian" by Chris Rainbow. Chris Rainbow is a musician from the '70s and '80s that was doing post-Beach Boys music and "Dear Brian" was to Brian Wilson. For a long time, the working name of our track was "Dear Brian" and when we had to give it a proper name, we were like, Okay, the vocal sample reminds us of Alan Braxe, let's call it Dear Alan. It's a way for us to pay tribute to Alan Braxe and also Chris Rainbow.

When you think back to 2007 and "D.A.N.C.E." and having that kind of fast success on a global scale, what memories remain for you from that early era of Justice?

The truth is that it was not fast. There were four years between the moment we started the band and "D.A.N.C.E." and our first album came out. It was four years of doubts and thinking we were doing artistic suicide, for real. All those tracks took a lot of time to actually reach an audience.  

In the meantime, we did our first commercial suicide with "Waters of Nazareth" in 2005. We felt really bad about that track for a couple of months because we had no positive feedback about it. When we would play at festivals, as soon as the song would start, the technical people from the festival would run on stage to see if everything was plugged in correctly. Finally, a year after, it started to reach the underground, people more coming from rock music that felt there was something cool about it. 

Once that was settled, we released "D.A.N.C.E." which was not at all what people wanted us to make, because that was a disco track with a kid singing on it. It took some months, but then it made [an impact]. Then we made "Stress" and had a huge backlash on the video.

Our first album sold a lot of units, but it was over the course of maybe two years. It was really at the end of 2008, beginning of 2009 that it had reached its kind of cruise speed. So, retrospectively, it looks a bit like we came out of nowhere and found a spot for us, but it was made over five, six years; it was a proper development in a way. 

How do you feel you've grown as individuals and as producers since that early Justice era?

 We didn't grow up too much, to be honest. Every time we go back to the studio, we start a bit from zero again, mainly because we try to get rid of old habits every time we start something new. We also change the instruments that we use. The first months of Hyperdrama were really almost like R&D. We were trying to find new ways of making sounds. We didn't produce much music then, we were just trying things and getting accustomed to the new setup. We learn everything as we're making a record and especially on this one. We also wanted to get rid of all habits we have in terms of writing and producing. 

To us, knowledge, a lot of times, can be the enemy of the good. We're trying to find the good balance between, of course, using what we've learned throughout the years to make things that get better hopefully with time and at the same time not to get stuck into patterns that can make you feel old. We're very aware that we're entering a phase of being an old band in a lot of ways. 

We really hope that Hyperdrama does not translate as an old record made by an old band. Hopefully it still sounds fresh and naive and playful, as if it was a record from a young man.

Chromeo On Their New Album 'Adult Contemporary,' Taking Risks And 30 Years Of Friendship

Mastodon's drummer and singer Brann Dailor assures you he did not purchase his shiny golden gramophone at his local shopping mall.

“I won that! I’m telling you. It’s a major award,” he says in the latest episode of Where Do You Keep Your GRAMMY?

The metal musician won his first GRAMMY award for Best Metal Performance for Mastodon's “Sultan’s Curse” at the 2018 GRAMMYs.

“‘Sultan’s Curse’ was the jumping-off point for the whole theme of the album,” he explains. “The protagonist is walking alone in the desert, and the elements have been cursed by a Sultan.”

It’s a metaphor for illness — during the creation of the album, the band’s guitarist Bill Kelliher’s mother had been diagnosed with a brain tumor and bassist Troy Sanders’s wife was battling breast cancer.

For the band, the GRAMMY award represented their version of the American Dream and culmination of their career work. Even if Mastodon didn’t win the award, Dailor was happy to be in the room: “We felt like we weren't supposed to be there in the first place! But it's an incredible moment when they actually read your name."

Press play on the video above to learn the complete story behind Brann Dailor's award for Best Metal Performance, and check back to GRAMMY.com for more new episodes of Where Do You Keep Your GRAMMY?

Brann Dailor Talks 20 Years Of Mastodon, New 'Medium Rarities' Collection And How He Spent The Coronavirus Lockdown Drawing Clowns

In her latest track "Off Switch," Australian dance-pop artist VASSY captures the exhilarating intensity of a budding romance. She loves the rush but, at the same time, wishes she could fight the feeling, even if only for a few seconds.

"There's something electric between you and I/ The way we connected I can't describe/ We're right on the edge of blurring the lines/ Don't know why I'm scared of this rush inside," she sings in the intro. "I wish my heart, it had an off switch/ 'Cause, boy, I don't know how to stop this."

In this episode of Global Spin, watch VASSY deliver an acoustic performance of her track, playing guitar and using a pair of castanets for added rhythm.

VASSY released "Off Switch" on Jan. 5 with an electrifying music video swirling with vibrant neon lights. 

Recently she wrapped a string of appearances supporting Aqua's United States leg of their world tour and earlier this month, performed a headlining show in San Diego. On May 18, she will take the stage at the BASSINTHEGRASS music festival in Darwin, Australia.

Press play on the video above to watch VASSY's lively performance of "Off Switch," and remember to check back to GRAMMY.com for more new episodes of Global Spin.

2024 GRAMMYs: Kylie Minogue Wins First-Ever GRAMMY For Best Pop Dance Recording For "Padam Padam"