Dan Bejar, aka Destroyer, sometime member of The New Pornographers, one third of Swan Lake, and half of Hello, Blue Roses, is an accomplished and applauded indie singer-songwriter. His aptitude for the cyclical, epic, cryptic song and his high-pitched, nasally intonation put him on par with the likes of Sunset Rubdown/Wolf Parade’s Spencer Krug and Frog Eyes front man Carey Mercer (who, as they’re all friends, un-coincidentally enough, are the other two members of Swan Lake).
But, there have always been key differences between Bejar and his compatriots. His voice, for instance, while high and nasally, has always been a little more approachable (less yelp, more singing). His songs, while sprawling and self-referencing, seem to have more of a warm, welcoming emotional center (while Krug can come off as insular and Mercer downright nuts). But, the most important similarity between the three would be the manic creative drive, the constant outward push into new territory. On the newly released Bay of Pigs EP, this new territory is electronic, ambient and almost disco-y. And, while not entirely unheard of (take a listen at 2004’s Your Blues if you want some precedence for his use of MIDI instrumentation), this is certainly new territory.
From the beginning of the title track, it’s clear something’s different. The bassy warble, the twinkling galaxy of synth have their dreamy minute or two of solo time before they fall away, taken over by a moody, explanatory Bejar. “Listen, I’ve been drinking” he mumbles, which, in and of itself, sounds about right for the start of a lot of Destroyer tracks. Lines like “I was inside of the sea’s guts, a crumbling beauty trapped in a river of ice” and “Love is a political beast with jaws for a mouth. I don’t care!” sound normal too, as odd as that might sound. There are other Swan Lake-member trademarks too, like wordless harmonies, naming characters (particularly girls), and sad romances. But, when paired with mopey, ambient bleeps and synths, it all sounds so unusual.
It’s not unusual for Swan Lake members to produce long songs, either, but at 13 minutes and 48 seconds, this thing is massive. While the sparkling ambiance was a refreshing change of pace early on, after, say, seven or eight minutes, it begins to feel stale, overly moody, one-note; Bejar’s achingly heart-honest vocals and lyrics are always more poetry than song, juggling words and sounds that most other lyricists wouldn’t dare go near, but the poetry on other recordings (like the amazing Destroyer’s Rubies from 2006 or 2001’s Street hawk: A Seduction) was always connected with more arousing, compelling and dynamic music.
As far as self-references go, the track is pretty light. One Christine White pops up towards the beginning of the song, a love perhaps lost, but certainly anger-inducing. There’s a Christine in the superb “Painter in Your Pocket” (from Rubies), and, judging from Bejar’s fiercely displayed continuity and intelligence, it wouldn’t be surprising if it’s the same woman.
The track’s synth-backing does grow dynamically and even find something of a beat, as Bejar warbles about having “seen it all” and things being “gentle” and “easy”. It certainly isn’t stagnant, but even this crescendo doesn’t make the track much more than an interesting experiment, musically; Bejar’s lyrics, though, are immaculate, as always. Lines like “The searchlight slumps over, so sick of the night” are so achingly evocative, showing a slow, lurching night of lovelorn life.
The b-side, though, is straight self-reference in the grandest sense. “Ravers” comes off as a slow, glitchy take on “Rivers” off of “Trouble in Dreams”. The title itself is a pun-y play on the newfound love of synths, showing that even Bejar is aware of how strange all this must seem (the dude certainly has a sense of humor about himself). Where the original track was energetic and manic, the new is forceful and determined. “Keep an eye on the surf and the sea and the sand” comes off as an all-too-important necessity, rather than a reckless suggestion.
In the end, the big thing left behind are a few questions: Is this Destroyer’s new direction, or was this a one-off experiment? Will there be more synth-based tunes down the line, or will he return to the acoustic guitar centered songs that made him a literary indie-darling? Does this even matter, as long as he keeps churning out the charming, mind-scrambling, poetic lyrics? Only time will tell.
