Spring Break
Andrew Bird flies high on stage and on his album 'Noble Beast'
by Charlie Gandelman
Arts | 2/3/09
Posted online at 11:41 PM EST on 2/2/09
/ Last updated at 2:24 AM EST on 2/2/09
Andrew Bird's performance at the Orpheum Theater last Friday night was the scene of a mad scientist in his lab. The singer/songwriter from Chicago, evoking a twitchy chemist, romped across the stage in hot pink socks, furiously switching instruments while whistling perfectly in tune.
Bird thrives on these contradictions. It is through his restless, hectic histrionics that he interweaves whistling and violin, guitar and glockenspiel to create a whimsical, breathtaking sound that has defined his 13-year career. Promoting his newest album Noble Beast, the concert showcases Bird's latest creation, which continues many ideas and themes from 2007's Armchair Apocrypha. But from a musician who built a reputation on sweeping, atmospheric creations, rhetorical gallivants and, of course, superhuman whistling, familiarity is a gift rather than a bore.
While Bird on stage opined that his live performances are a party compared to the restrained nature of his studio recordings, almost everyone in the audience disagreed with this assessment of his albums.
Noble Beast, released on Jan. 20, has not had the chance to sink into Bird fans' consciousness, as evidenced by collective groans during the show for more old songs. But its songs will soon enter the canon of Bird classics, as Noble Beast is Bird's most impressive effort yet.
The opening track of the Noble Beast, "Oh No," might just be Bird's strongest single to date, deftly integrating the unique elements that have made him a favorite both in and outside the indie community. Beginning with a pleasant violin melody interspersed with acoustic-guitar fingerpicking, it builds until Bird's catchy whistling replaces the violin. He then launches into lyrics he could have stolen from a Scrabble game played by linguists: "In the salsify mains of what was thought but unsaid/All the calcified arythmatists were doing the math."
The contradictions that enliven his live performances are no less prominent and enjoyable here. "Oh No"'s chorus suggests, as Bird himself helpfully explained in a New York Times blog-entry, that adulthood oppresses our emotions, rendering us all in a collective state of psychosis: "Oh arm in arm we are the harmless sociopaths/Arm in arm with all the harmless sociopaths/In the calcium mines buried deep in our chests." This music of this verse, opposing the lyrics' depressive sentiment, is pleasurable and upbeat, prone to hours of addictive humming.
Bird thrives on these contradictions. It is through his restless, hectic histrionics that he interweaves whistling and violin, guitar and glockenspiel to create a whimsical, breathtaking sound that has defined his 13-year career. Promoting his newest album Noble Beast, the concert showcases Bird's latest creation, which continues many ideas and themes from 2007's Armchair Apocrypha. But from a musician who built a reputation on sweeping, atmospheric creations, rhetorical gallivants and, of course, superhuman whistling, familiarity is a gift rather than a bore.
While Bird on stage opined that his live performances are a party compared to the restrained nature of his studio recordings, almost everyone in the audience disagreed with this assessment of his albums.
Noble Beast, released on Jan. 20, has not had the chance to sink into Bird fans' consciousness, as evidenced by collective groans during the show for more old songs. But its songs will soon enter the canon of Bird classics, as Noble Beast is Bird's most impressive effort yet.
The opening track of the Noble Beast, "Oh No," might just be Bird's strongest single to date, deftly integrating the unique elements that have made him a favorite both in and outside the indie community. Beginning with a pleasant violin melody interspersed with acoustic-guitar fingerpicking, it builds until Bird's catchy whistling replaces the violin. He then launches into lyrics he could have stolen from a Scrabble game played by linguists: "In the salsify mains of what was thought but unsaid/All the calcified arythmatists were doing the math."
The contradictions that enliven his live performances are no less prominent and enjoyable here. "Oh No"'s chorus suggests, as Bird himself helpfully explained in a New York Times blog-entry, that adulthood oppresses our emotions, rendering us all in a collective state of psychosis: "Oh arm in arm we are the harmless sociopaths/Arm in arm with all the harmless sociopaths/In the calcium mines buried deep in our chests." This music of this verse, opposing the lyrics' depressive sentiment, is pleasurable and upbeat, prone to hours of addictive humming.
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