James Murphy of LCD Soundsystem is not, by most standards, a typical frontman. His band are second on the bill to Daft Punk in front of the Hyde Park thousands. But Murphy spends a good part of the set scratching his head, picking his ears and tinkering, obsessive-compulsively, with the tightness of his drummer's kit. Occasionally, he dances, pounding up and down on the spot like a post-punk Ozzy Osbourne. He does, though, manage to pull off one of the most curiously moving moments I've experienced at a gig in a long time.
James Murphy of LCD Soundsystem is not, by most standards, a typical frontman. His band are second on the bill to Daft Punk in front of the Hyde Park thousands. But Murphy spends a good part of the set scratching his head, picking his ears and tinkering, obsessive-compulsively, with the tightness of his drummer's kit. Occasionally, he dances, pounding up and down on the spot like a post-punk Ozzy Osbourne. He does, though, manage to pull off one of the most curiously moving moments I've experienced at a gig in a long time.
Over the weekend, I watched the new BBC documentary series, Seven Ages Of Rock, which on Saturday night was dedicated to punk. A lot of it seemed inevitably familiar, but I perked up as I always do with the footage of The Sex Pistols' Jubilee boat trip, which I was on, standing about four feet in front of Johnny Rotten as a heaving crowd went hysterical and police launches surrounded us as the Pistols hammered out a defiant "Anarchy In The UK" as we cruised past the Houses Of Parliament.
