If cabaret weren’t self-indulgent garbage, it would sound like this. If showtunes were rock ‘n’ roll and not fluff to get characters from one side of the stage to other, they would sound like this. Bejar has compiled an album of something magically showman-like and throwback to a time where everything need not be insular and narrow. Bejar throws the doors wide on every song daring you to knock him down. Bejar hasn’t really gone into full-blown Bowie mode yet on this album, as it feels a little more echoey and 70s AM sunniness meets Canadian playhouse than glam-filled costume drama. There are some really strong songs on here; some original stuff that really doesn’t sound a whole lot like anything out there. Perhaps it’s Destroyers’ flair for the theatrical or the crazy tongue-twisting runs, but these songs feel a lot more crafted than some 4/4 verse chorus blink-182 pop song. Not that those are bad necessarily, but this is something akin to art, whereas that is, well, popular.