Roar – Diamond Destroyer Of Death

3 out of 5

Label: Really Records

Produced by: Owen Evans

Something of a concept album, Roar’s Diamond Destroyer of Death marries Owen Evans’ Beach Boys’ harmonies and poppiest of pop rock hooks to some fascinatingly bleak lyrics, securing some truly impactful moments – and surely toe-tapping ones as well – across its ten tracks. But the cyclical narrative perhaps holds back some songs from achieving standalone appeal: it often feels like songs are purposefully halted so that we can make way for the next one, as opposed to coming to their own conclusion, a fracturing that occurs even within single tracks on occasion. So it’s an odd mix of some of the strongest material Evans has written when viewed up close, but a less cohesive listen from afar.

Diamond maybe sorta kinda traces a breakup, or at least some external event that then causes its narrator to change their accusations and observations from being pointed outside to inside. Key lines are repeated in different contexts, and the material gets darker and darker as it goes along, using the A- and B-sides of the LP to approximately split the shift from ‘you’re to blame’ to ‘I’m to blame.’ It’s… highly possible I’m wrong on all that, but regardless, there’s power in the words, and I recommend a read along while the pop tunes wash over you.

Those tunes will be familiar to Roar listeners, with bursts of shiny guitar and instantly hummable melodies, but I do appreciate some extra psychedelic weirdness sprinkled tastefully throughout the compositions – whereas I would’ve previously described Roar strictly as pop, there’s stuff between the lines here that gives it an uneasy, weird undercurrent.

Ultimately, though, those extra layers end up limiting the lasting appeal of the songs. I’d find myself getting frustrated that a particular hook or tune wasn’t carried out to a more propulsive ending, instead diverted to keep the story going. If Owens can map this level of storytelling to more individually fleshed out tracks, I’ll have something that stays in my player, and my thoughts, for quite some time.