7 Quintessential Remixes from the DFA
This past weekend, there was a chance you made a pilgrimage westward to Coachella to witness the reunification of LCD Soundsystem. Or perhaps you are soon to be en route for the second weekend of the venerated desert festival. Failing that, five years prior, you may have journeyed east to Madison Square Garden for what was ostensibly LCD Soundsystem’s final show, an event subsequently re-packaged and sold to you as a concert film and a five-LP box set that certainly lived up to its title, The Long Goodbye.
Lost in the appraisals and dismissals of such breakups and make-ups, before he formed LCD Soundsystem and glibly talked about losing his edge, James Murphy made his name not on his wine bar or his coffee blend but as one-half of the production duo the DFA, alongside Tim Goldsworthy. Murphy, the indie rock veteran and Six Finger Satellite sound engineer, and Goldsworthy, onetime member of an early incarnation of UNKLE, met while working with Irish electronic musician David Holmes in the late '90s*,* and their relationship developed from there. They made for an unlikely pair, with Murphy’s meat-and-potatoes live drum sound counterbalancing Goldsworthy’s encyclopedic knowledge of synthesizers and production techniques.
Before DFA (read: Death From Above) became the name for their record label, Murphy and Goldsworthy were already hard at work splicing together the DNA of post-punk, indie, Italo, electro, rock, analog synthscapes, and plenty more. Call what they did “dance-punk,” but visiting the DFA offices during the early 2000s, you were more likely to hear Terry Riley’s Persian Surgery Dervishes and Manuel Göttsching’s E2-E4 than Gang of Four. That omnivorous musical appetite showed up on their remixes as the DFA, from 2001 to 2008.
While it’s now far easier to just credit the melding of indie and dance culture to LCD Soundsystem, the DFA’s remixes were massively influential on their own terms, introducing the likes of Le Tigre, Jon Spencer Blues Explosion, and Gorillaz to discerning dancefloors that might have otherwise ignored them. At one point, the duo even neared the precipice of mainstream acceptance, fielding offers from Britney Spears and having a name nearly on par with the likes of the Neptunes and Timbaland (they would subsequently remix N.E.R.D. and Justin Timberlake). But as Murphy enjoyed greater success with LCD Soundsystem, the duo began to fray. One source once told me that the Murphy-Goldsworthy studio dynamic became one of each erasing the other’s work. While news of Goldsworthy leaving hit the news in 2010 (with a subsequent lawsuit brought by DFA against him in 2013), Goldsworthy was more or less out the door by the time the DFA’s last big remix—of M.I.A.’s 2008 hit “Paper Planes”—dropped.
In some ways, this revisionist history plays into the dynamics of rock versus dance music. The accolades, album reissues, and documentaries train their focus on LCD Soundsystem, a rock band with a classic catalog that can make the festival circuit. But the elusive singles that the DFA produced—the ones that soundtracked the hedonistic wee hours of a post-9/11 NYC—forever remain hazy, dancing just beyond the reach of easy assimilation. Before “All My Friends,” the following DFA remixes were what you heard during a night out with all your friends.
Le Tigre, “Deceptacon” (2001)
The remix that started it all. While Kathleen Hanna may have spit the bit on riot grrl rock when she formed this dance trio with JD Samson and Johanna Fateman, they were still closer to spastic new wave and punk than the club, no matter how many times Hanna sneered, “Wanna disco? Wanna see me disco?” But when the DFA filed their remix two years after Le Tigre’s debut, “Deceptacon” was the defining sound of pre-electroclash ennui. Powered by crisp hi-hats and Goldsworthy’s itchy-twitchy keyboard hook, the track finds the primo midpoint between punk’s spikiness and disco’s slinkiness. At one point, Goldsworthy deadpans “f-r-e-s-h,” which is exactly what this sounded like—both then and now.
Metro Area, “Orange Alert” (2002)
No dance duo was more of an influence on Murphy and Goldsworthy’s early productions than Metro Area. Morgan Geist and Darshan Jesrani were unabashed in their love of spacey handclaps, juicy basslines, and sparkling synths. Their run of singles from 1999 to 2001 set the table for the decade of underground dance music to come and just overlapped with the start of the DFA, their influence audible on the latter. DFA’s remix of Metro Area is the inverse of the Le Tigre one, toughening up the drums and adding a bit of grit to the preexisting glitz.
UNKLE, “In a State” (2003)
In which Goldsworthy’s new production duo remixes a track from his previous duo. The original featured 10cc’s Graham Gouldman against a fidgeting beat, but in DFA’s dramatic reimagining, they open with the breathless ethereality of 10cc’s “I’m Not in Love.” Ever so gently, a slow, cresting beat enters, making for a smoldering end of night closer. The duo’s ability to build momentum across its 13 minutes without veering into excess is masterful.
Gorillaz, “Dare” (2005)
As the DFA began to hit their stride mid-decade, almost every remix began to near the double-digit barrier in terms of length. But in a catalog of such epics (see also: their remix of Nine Inch Nails’ “The Hand That Feeds”), their 12-minute expansion of Gorillaz’s “Dare” towers above the rest, dilating the track to three times its original length. And while the original was a fun foothill of synth squelches, percolating backbeat, and Damon Albarn falsettos, Murphy and Goldsworthy reconstituted it into something mountainous. Taking a page out of LCD’s “Yeah,” Murphy’s telltale snares and cowbells—combined with Shaun Ryder’s sneers—give the song a punk edge. Which would suffice for most remixers, who might then clock out. But with each passing chorus, the intensity builds, the synths taking on a sawtooth edge. Around the five-minute mark, a sustained buzzing chord signals take-off, and the track soars into the stratosphere.
Hot Chip, “(Just Like We) Breakdown” (2005)
The DFA were early champions of fellow synth geeks Hot Chip, who made a brief appearance on Murphy and Goldsworthy's label. While there’s a breezy backbeat to the band’s original track, in the DFA remix, the duo foregrounds Alexis Taylor’s forlorn vocal, surrounding it with a somber throb. The closed hi-hats give it an anxious pacing while the dramatic key stabs make for the DFA’s most emotive remix, a line like “hold on my friend/ the end is a start” perhaps foretelling the duo’s own demise.
Goldfrapp, “Slide In” (2005)
It was somewhat rare that the DFA got their hands on tracks featuring female voices—the spiky no-wave of J.O.Y.’s “Sunplus” and Pixeltan’s “Get Up / Say What,” plus the aforementioned Le Tigre and M.I.A. remixes, are notable exceptions—so there’s a delectable pleasure in having the duo transform Alison Goldfrapp into a total disco diva. From the beefy drum fill that opens the track, the gooey, early ‘80s-styled original gets stretched to a tantric 13 minutes. Drum-drunk and high octane from the leap, as “Slide In” goes on it continues to build speed. Featuring a drum circle breakdown that nods to the clattering polyrhythmic breaks of Chicago’s “I’m A Man” and Cymande’s “Bra” (which Murphy also paid tribute to on LCD singles like “Yeah”), the song then begins towards to drift towards outer space. It encapsulates the DFA’s undying love for disco’s opulence, big drums, and cosmic synth music in one single track.
Captain, “Frontline” (2006)
An outlier in the DFA’s discography, this track shows an oft-neglected aspect of the remix: working with an unremarkable song and a cringeworthy vocal. Perhaps it was the opportunity to play with a Trevor Horn production? They keep the indie yowl of Rik Flynn up front, but jettison the dead weight before the four-minute mark. And when the deep synth bass kicks in and the chord stabs start to echo, James and Tim pull at every component like taffy, stretching things further and further afield for one of their spaciest, most dubbed-out remixes.
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