By Sean Moeller

Upon Dan Bejar’s insistence, whenever possible, his publicist at Merge Records is to allow him to conduct his interviews regarding his latest opus, “Destroyer’s Rubies” via the electronic mail. This is the same practice that Anton Newcombe and Sage Francis take with their conversations with the media. Both the volatile lead singer of the Brian Jonestown Massacre and the ‘tuded up Epitaph Records artist come off as sniveling a-holes who forget that, according to the simple law of averages, there’s a good chance that they may have the same question asked of them twice. They must be ready for it with patience, not malice, but, I guess, where would the fun be in that? There is much lost in the translation when gmail or hotmail is acting as the interface. The clarity isn’t aced and the interplay is dead in the water. Bejar is nowhere close to being the belligerent bellyache that Newcombe and Francis are with their responses. In fact, he’s lively and playful in parts, not just difficult and demoralizing. He does not make his contempt for certain questions habitual, leaving two people looking sorrowful and ill-mannered. And this kind of behavior makes a load of sense given Bejar’s disinclination to public de-shrouding through pointed or precise questioning. Every second of every single one of Destroyer’s seven full-length albums – including this month’s glisteningly sweet “Rubies” – is made up of the combined glow of his own personal nightlight, the light at the back of his refrigerator, he in the buff, the private shine that his teeth give off and the delicate whistle noise that he might occasionally make in his sleep. It’s this combination of personal flowering that enriches his songs to the point that they could cave under the force of their own saturation. Listen to the final minutes of the nine-minute opening song on the latest and Bejar’s acoustic guitar starts to sound so fragile and dear. Then we’re allowed the beauty of the creaking of the chair and the cracking of a wooden floor as he moves to press stop on his recording device. This song and each of the other nine hold the mementos of circumstance and flittering thought, the tales that he likely will never get around to living, and makes them into mirrors and sidewalks that get looked at and walked over dozens of times a day. We are all intruders into these premises that should, in all reality, have no trespassing signs wired to the fences surrounding them. That we even get to come inside the gates—to trample over his gardens and peek through the house window that looks right into his den and his dining room (there’s nothing more intimate that watching an unsuspecting someone eat…I learned that from “Arrested Development” fan Ben Gibbard) – is a privilege. The songs on “Destroyer’s Rubies” are stronger than a train rail and so fucking interesting that they could take until the next record before there’s any sort of handle on them. He may describe “Rubies” all the better, without trying to describe anything at all. It’s a wonderful caricature of intimacy.

There are a number of reoccurring references on your new record—swords, tall ships of snow. What significance do they have and what kinds of meanings do you attach to them?

They’re all extremely literal. Swords chop heads. “Tall ships made of snow” don’t mean a fucking thing unless they’re invading the sun, which is why I say “Tall ships made of snow, invading the sun…” in two different songs on the album, so as to emphasize that point. Valiant and doomed, or maybe not doomed, but hopeless…Right?

How do you define the blues as you sing about them? Do you have much experience with them?

I don’t define them, due to my tons of experience singing them…

Do you feel like you’ve outdone yourself lyrically on this record? They’re always your greatest strength, but they’re particularly intriguing on the new songs.

You’re right, they’re good. The lyrics on This Night are better, which would lead me to believe that I outdid myself three-and-a-half years ago, which kinda sucks…Especially since no one noticed…

What’s your rap sheet on things you’ve destroyed throughout your life?

None of your business.

There still seems to be a lot of lingering confusion about your role with The New Pornographers. Can you set us all straight? Do you enjoy playing live with them or has that been something to grudgingly agreed to do?

I had fun playing live with them. It won’t happen again, but that’s for a number of different reasons, mostly pragmatic. I did not go on tour with them grudgingly… We are all adults here. Carl and co. have recorded the occasional song I have written. I tend to sing on those songs. I used to play/practice/record with them full-time from 1997 until December of 2000. We are all friends, unless they believe some of the weird misquotes that have popped up here and there, and think I’m a jerk. Hopefully this is not the case, since they should know better than to take stock of anything I might say in an interview.

Were you aware that there’s a drinking game that coordinates the lyrics of your songs meeting certain requirements to so many drinks? Reading through the different scenarios, it seems that you could get pretty fucked up playing it. There are a lot of rules.

Of course I’m aware of it – the last two e-mail interviews just before this one brought it front and center to my attention. As did a couple more before those ones.

Are you happier recording than you are playing shows?

Yup.

Have you ever betrayed Floyd as some characters on the new record are predicted to do? Have you ever felt like you betrayed any of your favorite bands from your youth?

I betrayed General Public.

What kinds of things have you been reading lately? Anything good?

My cat pissed on a copy of Michael Burkard’s “Unsleeping”... I was going to be reading that lately, and I am sure it would have been good.

What were the last five songs you heard today?

That Supertramp song, a Platinum Blonde song, some classical number, Heart, something else… I was in the car, the radio was on…