It started innocently enough, as these things mostly do, with The Noble Production of Eggs, an Andrew Bird cd sent by my friend Humphrey, with the best of intentions no doubt. It’s different, and it’s good. But I don’t hate Andrew Bird; it’s good music, with clever lyrics and a pure voice. I’m glad to have it.
(By the way, if you’re looking for a silly British video about-the-less than noble production of eggs, check this out from The Mitchell and Webb Situation.)
But then Bird himself has to follow with Armchair Apocrypha, and doesn’t that have some service winners? Where does one start–Fiery Crash, Imitosis, Plasticities, Scythian, Spare-Ohs–where does it end? At this point, I’m thinking I could hate Andrew Bird. I mean, that record is so good–smart, artful, human. Arggh.
And then the other shoe–yeah, you know the one, Noble Beast–drops. Crap. I can’t hate a guy who makes music that…that…well, beautiful. Consistently humanly warmly beautiful. Oh No, Masterswarm, Souverian, Privateers, Natural Disaster.
And that bonus track, Take Courage–damn you, Mr. Bird.
Finally, there was that show last winter at the 930 Club. That was the last straw. Go listen to it on NPR, you’ll see what I mean. He plucks, he bows, he whistles, he hums, and he loops it all into a great big feast of perfectly balanced stuff. And then, THEN he plays the song…like he means it. It’s all authenticity. And he’s tall, and he’s got all his hair still. And his patter is perfectly nerd charming. Did I mention he can sing?
I’ve got this strange feeling like I need to call someone and tell them how good this show is, and I hate that, really–you know what I mean, how you’re out at a show and there’s some guy talking to his friend about what a great show this is? As if the experience isn’t real unless he can verify it with someone? Or the opening notes of a song get played and immediately audience members are texting their friends left and right. Just enjoy the show, yes?
And then it hits me–this Andrew Bird fellow is a threat; how are the rest of us supposed to measure up? I want to get all Harrison Bergeron on him; he must be hobbled. Suddenly, a blog is born.
Oh, you think you can handle it? Try this vid below of “Effigy” from a recent show…
Look, the reality for me is dude is freakishly talented and his music works for me.
And because of that, until something else comes along, Andrew Bird (if that is his real name) is my nemesis.