Destroyer - Kaputt

Dan Bejar’s work outside of The New Pornographers has never made many ripples on this side of the pond. More’s the pity, as Destroyer – the loose conglomerate of musicians that take the whimsical Vancouverite as their guiding star – boasts a back catalogue that sits easily amongst the best indie of the last decade. With Kaputt, Bejar has solidified his dark horse reputation with a tribute to the synth pop-pushers of yesteryear that’s part slickly-produced love letter, part withering reappraisal, but which is never less than totally absorbing.

Kaputt is not littered with the sounds of the 70s and 80s – rather, they form its basic building blocks, with Bejar taking the tropes of the era (right down to the synth washes and sax licks half-remembered from some late-night repeat), and reforming them into something new and remarkable. Thus the spirit of the Pet Shop Boys hangs over ‘Savage Night At The Opera’, while the bland inoffensiveness of Kenny G-style sax is harnessed in service of Bejar’s weirdly compelling musings on US race relations in ‘Suicide Demo For Kara Walker’.

Elsewhere, the seen-it-all sleaze of an Altman or Cassavetes film hangs heavily; ‘Chinatown’ and ‘Downtown’ conjure amphetamine-enhanced eyes meeting across dimly-lit dancefloors, over which Bejar seems to wander with aloof detachment, gesturing towards the absurdity of it all with an elegantly raised eyebrow. It’s nostalgic, in a drippingly ironic, Donnie Darko sort of way. ‘Sounds, Smash Hits, Melody Maker, NME / all sound like a dream to me’ he cries on the title track, at once lamenting and passing wry comment on a vanished time, while indulging in some of the music industry-kicking for which he is noted.

Lose yourself in this meticulously crafted melange.


First published in The Brag, Iss. 406, 11th April 2011