Sound bite: "Destroyer's Rubies"

Destroyer “Destroyer’s Rubies” Merge Records Destroyer’s Dan Bejar has been many things: erstwhile member of The New Pornographers, explosive rock guitarist, folk-pop troubadour and engrossing storyteller capable of sketching worlds of literate references and intricate characterizations. “Destroyer’s Rubies,” Bejar’s seventh album, is as multifaceted as its intriguing creator, taking the dramatic sprawl of ’70s rock albums such as David Bowie’s “Ziggy Stardust” and Elton John’s “Madman Across the Water” and expanding it to near-epic proportions. From “Rubies” opening guitar chord, the album revels in its full, robust instrumentation. This is the most exuberant album in ages, a joyful culmination of Bejar’s melodic aspirations. The nine-minute opening song is a microcosm of the album as a whole – rather than using repetition or indulgent jams to extend its length, every moment of the track is planned and choreographed in a continuous forward motion. After a distorted introduction, a faux-flamenco section begins the song in earnest before the launch of major-scale electric guitars and scattershot drumming – and that’s just the first two minutes. Bejar’s voice, now more confident than ever, is an instrument as well, and every song contains some form of wordless “la-da-da” refrain. But beyond the sheer energy of the music lies a richly envisioned collection of songs as complex as they are accessible. Assuming the role of self-aware narrator, Bejar’s subversive lyrics touch on everything from previous albums and his own fictional mythology, to the modern world and rock music itself. “Those who love Zeppelin will soon betray Floyd/ I cast off these couplets in honor of the void,” he sings in “A Dangerous Woman Up To A Point.” This lyric simultaneously acknowledges his predecessors while separating himself from them. In the title track, he addresses the persona Ruby in a jab at his own artistic development: “I wanted you, I wanted your blues/ too!” “Your Blues” is Destroyer’s previous album, but the real focus is on the worth of these songs. When Bejar sings on “Looters’ Follies,” “I swear looters’ follies has never sounded so good,” he sounds desperate rather than self-congratulatory. In the same song, he claims “that a life in art and a life of mimicry – it’s all the same!” As metacritical and referential as it may be, satire this album is not. Bejar has crafted an exciting, visceral pop playground, and “Destroyer’s Rubies” is too full of life, too brimming with personality, to be anything less than the largest jewel in his heavy crown.

— David Greenwald