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Genre is over. Once upon a time (1959 until second Journey album) you could say you were into rock and roll, but the term has since lost all meaning. Now "rock" refers to any song with live drumming not about an old flag, and the bad news is that it is in no way cool. Fortunately, it is now free to be completely awesome.


Case in point: Destroyer's Kaputt. With its soprano saxes, mixolydian melodies, and compulsively clean production, it fits into a historical genre that can only be called smooth jazz. But there are those lyrics—enjambed and affected, singing about cocaine and desperate women and a pervasive emptiness as experienced from a velour banquette. It's as if Hall & Oates were one gay vampire, and it is exhilaratingly alien even as it is horrifyingly familiar.

Kaputt sounds like no other rock album, even though it immediately seems like you've heard it before. Ergo, you have to listen to it again. According to iTunes, I have listened to my copy 76 times since I got it in February. At first I was ashamed; then I was fascinated, and now I have to tell everyone.


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