Destroyer - 'Trouble In Dreams' (Rough Trade) 17/03/08

Let us start with the facts. Destroyer are one of many vehicles for the formidable song writing talents of a certain Dan Bejar, whose other bands include Indie heroes The New Pornographers and the recent Supergroup ‘Swan Lake’, featuring members of Wolf Parade. The new Destroyer album ‘Trouble in dreams’ on Rough Trade (Not just a record label but a shining beacon for continual outsider brilliance) features the latest outpourings of a troubled, fervent mind, the result of a seemingly endless need for expression and it is up there with his finest work.

It doesn’t take long before he is twisting our heartstrings and inviting comparisons to the compact and emotionally resonant storytelling of the Silver Jews and Guided by Voices, especially on ‘Dark Leaves Form A Thread’, (inevitably rhymed with “perfectly at home with this dread”) a sense of foreboding unfolding into a lazy yet infectious sing-a-long. Bejar’s voice immediately sounds more confident than on previous outings, his half whispered, occasionally slurred vocals delivering the perfect foil to the unpredictable twists of the guitars though his voice is bound to remain a divisive instrument, a unique yet occasionally infuriating weapon of choice.  

Regardless, centrepiece song ‘My favourite Year’ is an effusive bubbling volcanic spring, cerebral synth stabs underpinning a nostalgic lament that somehow leaves you feeling much better by the end of it and finds Bejar sounding like Lou Reed if he, you know cheered up a bit.

By his own admission, some of the lyrical content covers the subject of physical torture used by state apparatus to aquire political information. On ‘The State’ he addresses this harrowing subject in a thrilling, observational way with just enough dark humour to stop us looking away (“They wounded me/gave me this bad knee/ tore down my baby’s favourite tree”). In this sense, he momentarily becomes the Nick Broomfield of Indie rock and we can offer no higher compliment.   

Elsewhere we find him on more typically confessional form, cascading pianos, winding whiskey soaked guitar lines and unpredictable bleeps becoming the canvas on which these melodramas unfold. Some of them are cloaked in mystical imagery yet all pack a significant emotional punch without exception.       

By the time of the final ‘Libby’s First Sunrise’, it all sounds world weary but triumphant, an explorer returning from a long journey of adventure and unspeakable peril. We offer him a salty salute and welcome him to shore.  This record is a brisk winter stroll through the greatest Indie rock terrain so far discovered on earth and a great testament to an inspiring and prolific talent.