Carl Sandburg Visits Me In A Dream

Andrew Bird came to his alma mater Northwestern University to play an exclusive show for students, where he dabbled in pizzicato and conversation for a couple of fascinating hours. I was fortunate to have been able to sit front row with my buddy Jed, as we witnessed the fancy footwork and idiosyncrasies of Mr. Bird.

For someone who proclaims himself to be so damn “easy going” in his song “Why?”, it might come as a surprise as to how stubbornly good Andrew Bird really is. He isn’t necessarily the greatest of showmen, but I suppose that’s part of his act. His perfectionism and his impeccable concentration allow him to elevate himself (note: he nearly played half the show on his tippy toes) to a level that transcends that petty artist-audience banter. It also seemed as though Bird had some special connection to the Pick-Staiger auditorium in which he also played as a student at NU. It was clear that it was nostalgic for him to be back at Northwestern, in the acoustically phenomenal auditorium where his songwriting travails began. At the very end of the show, he decided to play “Weather Systems” with the justification that he thought it would sound right in the venue. But really, that was him wanting to hear his own songs in a space that could truly appreciate them, musically and lyrically.

Indeed, it was a rather fantastic show, as he furiously tapped his feet on the handful of loop pedals at his disposal. Not to mention his sudden kicks and jumps, the rotating speakers, or even his simple “Nervous Tic Motion of the Head to the Left”. Each song was carefully chaotic, as he went from guitar to violin at an almost frantic pace. Anyone else would have looked awkward or hurried, but Bird made it seem effortless, surreal. Even more, he drenched he audience in a slew of delightful sonic matter. I felt enveloped, suspended in his violin, his lyrics in my mouth, as if I had something to do with the creation of his sound.

Among the various highlights of the show were his latest “Imitosis” and the now classic “Nervous Tic Motion of the Head to the Left”. “Why?” came across more involved and intricate than I remember–the looping was done perfectly. Bird even tried out a new song, “Sectionate Cities”, which could have easily been another track on Armchair Apocrypha. “I figured I would try a new song on you all,” he remarked to eager fans with the disclaimer, “there’s no better to place to choke, I guess”. Bird also shared some of his own stories about his songs; perhaps the most interesting was that “Why?” was about his college roommate failing to get a rise out of Andrew. Or, as he explained, that much of his songwriting starts with questions (he’s much more interested in the questions) and a couple of words whose tonal quality interest him. From there, it’s that quirky Birdness that takes over and makes his songs what they are.

Listen to Andrew Bird- “Why?“
Listen to Andrew Bird-”11:11 (Live)“

Andrew Bird is a hero. He doesn’t don a cape or fly around in pants that are too tight for his build–he’s a different kind of hero. He’s the kind of hero that is able to make his greatest weaknesses work for him. He’s the kind of hero that went to Northwestern University. He’s the kind of person that just said “to hell” with all the preconceived notions he had about himself and his image. The result is simply golden.

It used to be that His Birdness did not want to identify with his birdness. His last name is so strikingly accurate in describing his affect, that it seems odd that he didn’t embrace it. Until now. Try to put aside the haunting whistling of his, or the way his voice flutters over each song, or how his violin seems to flap its wings from string to string. You can’t. But try. Then have a look at his album cover: the back of a the head of a Budgerigar (often confused with a parakeet…there’s a difference I guess). It’s the prevailing theme that His Birdness makes on the whole album–that his identity was so close this whole time but he never had time or never wanted to embrace it.

But I’m sure glad he has now. Armchair Apocrypha is full of the unique Birdisms that I find simply irresistible. On “Imitosis”, he sings “We were all basically alone / Despite what all the studies have shown / What was mistaken for closeness was just a case for mitosis”. And with the added stylings of Martin Dosh (drummer), Armchair has a certain full-band quality to it. In fact, the album as a whole plays out more like a full band, which suits Bird’s style of music much better than his strictly solo approach prior to this effort.

On Armchair, His Birdness rarely misses; it’s tough to find a song I don’t think is strong. But enough of the negative side. Have a listen to “Simple X” (written by Dosh actually), and try not to sing along to the infectiously delicious track. With a great drum rhythm section and an electronic piano laying down a delectable beat, “Simple X” is a favorite. Or take “Scythian Empire” which actually appeared on Fingerlings 3, but now has some studio production to really make this song a classic. At about the 2 minutes mark, his whistling chimes in with the chorus that features what I can only describe as pop cans singing. Yes, soda (for you easterners) cans are singing. I could go on forever, but this review is already too long. So with that…

Buy Armchair Apocrypha. Go on. Get it.
Listen to “Imitosis” (5/5)
Listen to “Simple X” (5/5)
Missed Dr. Stringz? Check out the Andrew Bird as Dr. Stringz.