Tracks
Destroyer: "2000 Flowers"
(2006)
By Clayton Purdom | 11 January 2008
Dan Bejar’s a tricky guy. Or, rather, Destroyer’s a tricky band—I’ll just blame it on Bejar. Months before its release, the internet already runneth over with precriticism of his latest, Rubies, a confounding collection of songs that, like every other previous Destroyer release, takes approximately 40 listens to digest. I’m pretty sure I like it; most CMG staffers seem to, as well. I see Chet Betz licking his Counterpoint-hungry fingers over there in the corner, though, the feisty bastard.
Still, I’m daunted by the task of writing about any track off this new album, if only for the simple reason that I’m afraid to mess up: I’m afraid to say I love a song that 40 more listens may prove sucks. So I’ll take the easy way out and write about “3000 Flowers,” the most accessible track, admittedly, but only because it delivers satisfaction on such a face-splittingly giddy level, filled with a thunderous Crooked Rain, Crooked Rain guitar line, a rolling, leaping bassline and quicksilver percussive flourishes. Bejar’s exposition isn’t as joyous, though: “I was a slow learner, I moved in flourishes / I was a late bloomer, I moved in flourishes / Last face on a scene / A fresh face on a dying scene / One hundredth of a wet black bough.” Pianos skip along with us again before that transcendent guitar squeal shoots back, and it’s obvious that this baleful lyrical beginning has something shinier in wait for it.
And since this song is in the business of satisfaction, Bejar drops the happy resolution: “And the sky still reigned supreme over the land / As the music lovers sat crosslegged in the sand / And in time and in space, and in other words in a band / Too much like destroyers of themselves.” Of course he’s getting all self-referential here, but that’s what we came for, isn’t it? And then everything comes crashing back together, one final calamitous crescendo, and you hear Bejar, leaning away from the microphone, incredulous grin spread across his impish face and saying, “Yeah, sounds good.” Sure does, buddy...
Still, I’m daunted by the task of writing about any track off this new album, if only for the simple reason that I’m afraid to mess up: I’m afraid to say I love a song that 40 more listens may prove sucks. So I’ll take the easy way out and write about “3000 Flowers,” the most accessible track, admittedly, but only because it delivers satisfaction on such a face-splittingly giddy level, filled with a thunderous Crooked Rain, Crooked Rain guitar line, a rolling, leaping bassline and quicksilver percussive flourishes. Bejar’s exposition isn’t as joyous, though: “I was a slow learner, I moved in flourishes / I was a late bloomer, I moved in flourishes / Last face on a scene / A fresh face on a dying scene / One hundredth of a wet black bough.” Pianos skip along with us again before that transcendent guitar squeal shoots back, and it’s obvious that this baleful lyrical beginning has something shinier in wait for it.
And since this song is in the business of satisfaction, Bejar drops the happy resolution: “And the sky still reigned supreme over the land / As the music lovers sat crosslegged in the sand / And in time and in space, and in other words in a band / Too much like destroyers of themselves.” Of course he’s getting all self-referential here, but that’s what we came for, isn’t it? And then everything comes crashing back together, one final calamitous crescendo, and you hear Bejar, leaning away from the microphone, incredulous grin spread across his impish face and saying, “Yeah, sounds good.” Sure does, buddy...