Wednesday, March 18, 2009
Last night, Shain and I trekked to Tulsa to see the Andrew Bird show at Cain's. It was face melting, to say the least. We met L-Ma there, for her first Bird watching, but I don't think she left impressed. I think it takes a certain kind of dork to really appreciate Andrew Bird. There are lots of large words stuffed into spare songs, an obession with science and snacks, a violin with a classical bent, and a glockenspiel. Dork City, USA. I get off on his clearly ridiculous musical ability that he's not ashamed to flaunt as it's unapologetically innate.
The crowd was low key and our group bellied up to the side speaker region for a close look at the show without waging war with the front rows. It was a good vantage point, although I am officially old since the bass hurt my ears. He played lots of the new album, some of the middle albums and a few of my older favorites. His performances have the rare ability to make me totally forget what my face looks like or what my body's doing. I completely lose control over how my brain makes my face compute a reaction. I just stand there, bouncing along with this goofy gaze, absolutely consumed lurching toward eargasm. His live shows are really something. Shain said he likes the recordings better, but I couldn't disagree more. Watching him loop, listening to his compositions (because they're really pieces, not just songs) translate to the other musicians, hearing his sleepy, easy but strong voice ring out makes up for all crap music out there. Maybe not all of it, Katy Perry.
A Nervous Tic
Not a Robot, But a Ghost
It's not music for the masses, but music for the nerdy.
*I am in no way qualified to blabber on about music.