02 03 Stop Loving Everything: Destroy All Bejars 04 05 15 16 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 31 32 33

Destroy All Bejars

If you had Dan Bejar's voice and Neko Case's phone number, would you bother singing your own songs? I'm all for vocally-limited male singers with exceptional songwriting skills (Leonard Cohen, Colin Meloy, Serge Gainsbourg, Luke Sutherland, Mark E Smith, Steve Malkmus, Lee Hazelwood, maybe even Tom Waits) as long as they seem aware of their limitations, and use what's left with art, taste, and inspired instrumentation. Bejar sounds like a drunk chipmunk. If he's an acquired taste, I'm gonna have to overcome vomiting. And I'm not buying 'interpretive' or 'experimental.' Bejar makes Jeff Mangum sound like a basso profundo. With pitch.

Do not mistake: I'm a New Pornographers fan, at least of the second album. But that's the AC Newman show, I understand. Bejar's there for indie cred support or something. Or to not sing. Or to boost sales of his Destroyer albums.

I also wasted a good and rare ten bucks on Destroyer's Streethawk: A Seduction a few years back and, as you can tell, I hold grudges like a terrorist. Sensitive hipsters can't possibly be proud of exalting Bejar while passing over equally or better talented songwriters like Andy Falkous of McLusky, a now defunct Welsh trio who dropped three superb albums on Too Pure. Yesterday, they released McLuskyism, a must-buy posthumous greatest hits collection, for fans of Pavement, the Fall, and the Pixies without wanting to hear those bands ripped off. On the track below, listen for the coda-chorus; it's a nice way to hate your hometown, especially one person who still lives there.

And Dan Bejar: call Neko. She will only bring you happiness.

McLusky - She Will Only Bring You Happiness
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