Hello, friend. I see that you have come to get the scoop on the latest Destroyer record. Perhaps you are here because you are aware of Destroyer frontman Daniel Bejar's contributions to the New Pornographers. Or maybe you picked up last year's excellent Thief, and are here to see whether Streethawk is similarly worth your time and money. Perhaps you mistakenly happened upon this whilst looking for information on the "insane crushing grind band" Pig Destroyer. But the reason doesn't matter. What matters is that you're here.

Well, friend, there's something I feel I must tell you before we continue. If you came here expecting to read about traditional pop music, turn back now. Right now. Save yourself. Pop a copy of a High Llamas or Sloan CD into your stereo. Nod your head up and down to the syrupy harmonies and simple, straightforward songs. But know that there is a world where your fragile concepts of pop music cease to hold true-- where what's right isn't necessarily right, and what's wrong can be the most memorable thing you've heard in ages. This, friend, is the world of Destroyer.

If you've come here looking for more of what's on Thief, or the New Pornographers' Mass Romantic, I do not doubt that you are presently staring at the screen in disbelief. Please, pull yourself together. You may now be saying to yourself, "Wow, I don't think Streethawk is what I'm looking for." Upon first listen, you may think that this sentiment is being confirmed. "Where are the hooks?" you may wonder. "Why are the chords doing that?" Little do you know that it's only a matter of time before you'll be singing right along with it.

For you see, friend, Streethawk is pop music completely bereft of cliché, both musically and lyrically. Considering how much pop music seems to be built around trying to emulate a practically unattainable ideal, it makes perfect sense that Streethawk would initially seem distant and strange. But once you've deciphered it-- and you will-- you'll find Streethawk to be a distinctive, diverse, highly enjoyable record.

Now that I've used the word "diverse," you probably want to hear about the songs. Do not worry, friend. That can be arranged. Generally speaking, Streethawk breaks down into three varieties of song: the rockers, the acoustic numbers, and "other." "The Sublimation Hour," the best of the first group, never drifts far from a state of perpetual crescendo. Propelled by Stephen Wood's understated lead guitar and Jason Zumpano's well-placed piano flourishes, the track proves to be the album's most accessible track, as well as one of its best. "The Crossover" uses similar methods to a less dramatic extent, replacing the explosiveness of "The Sublimation Hour" with a playful swagger.

At the opposite end of the spectrum are "Beggars Might Ride," "Virgin with a Memory," and "Helena," a trio of subtle, nylon guitar-driven quasi-ballads that showcase the more whimsical side of Destroyer. But keep in mind, friend, that these are far from traditional acoustic numbers. Syllables pop in and out of places they don't belong, instrumentation changes without notice, and chords slither back and forth in combinations it's quite possible you've never heard before in a similar musical context.

And then there are the others. Mmm... others. "The Bad Arts," Streethawk's epic track, goes from a strummed uptempo acoustic number to a vaguely funky drum- and bass-driven rock song to a completely fucking beautiful meditation on reverb-soaked guitars, pounding drums, and Bejar's ethereal vocals. The song's structure is totally warped and unpredictable-- the middle section of the song seems to build to a dramatic crescendo, but when the climax finally arrives, it takes the form of a two-second blast of unadulterated noise. This is followed by a subtle transition into the song's beautiful final section, in which Bejar recites the borrowed Joy Division lyric, "You've got the spirit/ Don't lose the feeling," as layers and layers of blissful guitar wash over him.

Ah yes, the lyrics. Dan Bejar's lyrics have always been one of his greatest assets-- on his City of Daughters album, he penned such memorable lines as "Girls are great/ When grated on my plate," and "Nothing does a body good/ Like another body." On Streethawk, Bejar's lyrics are as cryptic as ever, but still remain oddly compelling. There's an apparent element of fantasy to the lyrics, as evidenced by lines like, "Streethawk tempts the huntress, let the girls go insane/ As we lay down our weapons and sure enough, we are slain." But what's really important here is that Bejar never falls into the trappings of traditional lyric writing-- in "The Sublimation Hour," he throws in an supplementary "princess," where most singers would sing "baby"-- perfectly appropriate for a man who once sang of "the inextricable failure of popular music."

So, friend, what now? Are you intrigued? Are you confused? Are you scared? Don't be scared. Sure, the chords and melodies on Streethawk may at first strike you as unappealingly random. But after having Streethawk all but stuck in my discman for over a month, I am 100% convinced that nothing on the album is unplanned. It's engaging, it’s surprising, and sometimes it's a bit disconcerting, but it all seems completely purposeful, even when the purpose itself isn't entirely clear. You have been given the oh-so-rare opportunity to enjoy the work of a songwriter who has found a distinctive voice that, while clearly drawing on elements of the past, is completely his own. And that, friend, is something worth holding on to.

-Matt LeMay