I saw Dan Bejar live once. I bummed cigs from a couple from Sweden, and the Asian kid sitting on the plastic stackable chair next to me played some racing game on his phone between sets.
It was awful. Bejar kept pushing his fro out of his eyes and his sentences trailed off, like he was thinking aloud to himself on the stage. I could have chalked that up to his endearing standoffishness were the songs – performed solo acoustic – not so lifeless, so carelessly tossed out of his mouth and guitar as if he were practicing alone on his back porch.
Like his demeanor in that show, the two 12″ singles Destroyer has released since have had a cold complexion. Electronic synths and midi orchestrate lengthier, repetitive tunes. But the warmth of the recordings coddles me. On the b-side, Grief Point, you can hear the flint of a lighter and clink of ice cubes in a glass behind the most earthy recording of Bejar’s voice we have yet.
In this song, Archer seems paralyzed on the beach, his arrows just out of reach – it’s chilly and melancholy. Except that we can hear the pitter-patter of every rain drop in the sand beside him.
[Hurry and get one of the 1,000 copies of Archer on the Beach b/w Grief Point.]