The Destroyers

The Destroyers

 Birmingham, England, GBR
BandWorldFolk

An anarchic Gypsy-Punk orchestra bringing blazing passion and energy, tales of love and death, of ancient myths and modern fairy tales with an acute Dylan-meets-the Pogues relevance, humour and chaos.

Biography

The Destroyers are 15 musicians with a deep passion for Balkan, Celtic and Latin beats. Fronted by Irish punk poet Paul Murphy, their charismatic Beefheart-esque leader; shows are energetic, eccentric, unforgettable experiences. They have rocked the UK scene with their debut album “Out of Babel”; Songlines enthusing:“Out of the cavalcade of Balkan Gypsy sound-a-likes, comes a blow-your-mind original” following barnstorming gigs at London’s Barbican and Southbank, their highly anticipated second album is set for release later this year.

What the media has said about them:

“The Destroyers paint a rich picture of the modern world, drawing parallels with stories and legends of ancient history”

“Such an insane medley of sound and genre, and are so wonderfully chaotic and fun that it’s difficult to not love them”

“Primal, frenzied strings and wailing brass”

“Close-up and dangerous, their blazing passion for performance and combined musical influences creates a swirling spectacle of sensation and sound...Onlythe dead can refuse to dance!"

“A seductively dangerous and unqiue listen”

“…comes across like Captain Beefheart fronting a Pogues/Fall supergroup”

“.. like a dream with its carnival melodies, it's dark undertones and positively brilliant brass section, taking you on a crazy journey through all manner of different fairytales, myths and legends. Like a fun Irish ditty that never ends with an abundant Priest providing vocals, this is definitely like nothing you will have heard before - ever!”

Lyrics

Out of Babel

Written By: P Murphy

There’s a fragrance in the air
the city breathes
now the spring is singing hymns
among the leaves
blossoms blow
where statues stand
across the square
a marching band
sunlit dreams
reflect on glass
a blaze of colour
as we go past

Like a carnival on cable
a bhangra, jazzy funky fable
we go, we go,
hey are you ready here we go
here we go, ho he ho
right out of Babel

Mr Singh hoists his
granddaughter high
and she’s laughing like a dove
as we go by
painted dragons
they lead the dance
the fiddlers tune
the great romance

Yeh all together
or not at all
tabla, bodhran
and conga call
like a carnival on cable
a bhangra, jazzy funky fable
we go, we go
hey are you ready here we go
here we go, ho he ho
right out Babel

It started in a garden
the world was innocent and young
between the dawning of the day
and the setting of the sun
but it wound up in a city
when all was said and done
the people of the city
to the city they come

From the East and the West
and the North and the South
they come into the city
strange tongues in their mouths
and out of the confusion
and babble of tongue
the people of the city gotta learn
they gotta learn
to sing as one to sing as one

Now redundant stars
in distant galaxies
are strung out like festive
lights between the trees
the carnival
has been and gone
the city sleeps
and turns towards dawn
Jaswinder dreams
of the dragon dance
the fiddler’s tune
the great romance

All together
or not at all
tabla, bodhran
and conga call
like a carnival on cable
a bhangra, jazzy funky fable
we go, we go
hey are you ready here we go
here we go, ho he ho
right out Babel

Where has the money gone?

Written By: P Murphy

Crossing Rockerfella plaza
from the Wall Street Christmas meal
where the algorithm forecasts
had nothing to reveal
de la villehuchet despondent
sees Prometheus looks down
I stole the golden flame
Madoff stole the crown

Where has they money gone
where did it go
where has the money gone
where did the money go

back in his headquarters
on the 22nd floor
dismisses cleaners early
and bolts the office door
a wastebin for his blood
pills to ease the pain
parcel knife to take his life
and take away the shame

take away the shame he cried
for I am all at sea
and I haven't got a compass
for this catastrophe
a hurricane of accusations
raging on and on
they're all asking the same question

Where has they money gone
where did it go
where has the money gone
where did the money go
Dawn returns upon his beat
through the cold streets of Manhattan
stirring homeless hobos' sleep
like a copper with his baton
but thieves don't sleep in doorways
nor beg out in the street
they breakfast like Prometheus
in Madoff's penthouse suite.

blood on his hands
says the New York Post
blood on his hands
and he's raising a toast

Methuselah Mouse

Written By: P Murphy

This is the story of Methuselah mouse
the kind you find in your garden or house
Mus Musculus by his Latin name
he’s been elevated to the Hall of Fame
he was Born and bred in captivity
In a science laboratory
under surveillance
life in a cage
on a diet of drugs
so he won’t age
Messiah of longevity
hero for the 21st century
hottest scientific property
Methuselah mouse has broken free

Methusla Mouse will live forever

Just like the hero Gilgamesh
who crossed the ocean where the winds were fresh
to visit Utnapishkim at the mouth of the river
man has wanted to live forever
like Utnapishkim and his wife
who were the gift of eternal life
man has sought it like the golden fleece
from Babylon to ancient Greece
to touch the elusive philosopher’s stone
stop the decay of flesh and bone
north and south and east and west
man has wanted to cheat on death
but like Oisin on the old bog road
we've lost the way to Tir na Nog
Methuselah Mouse who holds the key
has jumped his cage and broken free

Methusla mouse will live forever

A black cat prowls in the dead of the night
sees Methuselah run out from the laboratory light
and with a smile on his face
and a whisk of his paw
Methuselah mouse hangs dead in his jaw

Discography

Single: Out of Babel
Album: Out of Babel

Radio play: Radio 2 - Steve Lamacq - Out of Babel - http://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/b00mc14y#synopsis-

Radio 3 - Lucy Duran in for Andy Kershaw - Sirba
http://www.bbc.co.uk/radio3/andykershaw/pip/n8np0/index.shtml

Set List

Honga
Circus
The Glass Coffin Burial of Professor Zurinak
Sirba
Methuselah Mouse
The Flying Kopanitsas
Questa Canzone
Where has the money gone?
Hole in the universe
Kosher
Out of Babel
Tamlyn