Destroyer and dark days.

Destroyer - "Dark Leaves From a Thread"
Destroyer - "Foam Hands"

There's something so charming about Dan Bejar's songwriting; there's something I can't quite describe about it. I've been doing a lot of sitting at my desk, thinking about things I should be doing. Because it's so damn cold outside, I don't feel like doing anything, which is a problem, considering the fact that school is actually starting to pick up. Anyways, the new Destroyer album leaked a few weeks ago and I haven't had a chance to listen to it until just now. Listening to the rain on the roof and "Dark Leaves From a Thread" makes me feel like I've been here before, but it's just because Bejar's songwriting is charming in that familiar, comfortable way.

I will admit that for a very long time, I did not understand Destroyer. It seemed like a task to get through the nine minutes of Bejar's rambling lyrics, but somewhere along the way I began to appreciate the little moments of pop genius, such as "Dark Leaves," or "Your Blood." The only reason I gave any of these songs a second chance was listening to Bejar's genius songs on the New Pornographers records. I figured there had to be something there. From then on, my appreciation only grew.

Listening to the organ track and the shaky synthetic strings on "Foam Hands" makes me realize why this all seems so familiar. It was on a rainy day, much like today, that I began to appreciate Wilco's Yankee Hotel Foxtrot in all of its glory. I listened to songs like "Heavy Metal Drummer" and "Pot Kettle Black" over and over, but never understood "Reservations" until I listened to it in the driving rain, focusing on nothing but the clouds and the cars passing by.

By no means am I comparing Destroyer's Trouble in Dreams to Yankee Hotel Foxtrot, because god knows that Jeff Tweedy just about blows any other songwriter away in my book, however, I realize that much of what's going on in the album is treading a similar emotional path to the depths of what it is we've come to know in our more reflective moments. The watery, wavering guitar lines, the piano parts and those amazing synthetic string arrangements draw back to moments like Slowdive's "Machine Gun" or even "Five Years" by Bowie; they draw back to the idea that there is beauty in stillness. I get so caught up on a day to day basis, just thinking about what I'm supposed to be doing. Even though I think to myself, "God, I ended up being so unproductive," just because I sat and had a chance to catch up, I am beginning to realize that I must put myself in these situations for a reason. I must know, deep down inside, that I need to stop for a moment and just be where I am.