SOUTH BURLINGTON, Vt. Andrew Bird was meant to be a musician: He is a man of prodigious musical talent, and he reaches a new musical stratosphere with his intense and gracious devotion to his vocation.
Intensity was written all over Bird's face on Monday, Oct. 26. Touring to promote his 2009 album "Noble Beast," Bird graced the Higher Ground, a plain but charming venue between two fast food chains in a shopping mall in here in northern Vermont.
Bird has been releasing records for over a decade and playing music all his life. Using his classical music training and innate understanding of string instruments, he has refashioned the violin into a contemporary vocal accompaniment. Sometimes he even strums it like a guitar. He plays the guitar and xylophone on stage as well, often playing all of these instruments and singing in one song.
Bird is known for using "looping" in his music, which allows him to layer different violin and guitar parts with his signature whistling, clapping and singing. Inspired by Bird's classical background, this method is similar to the different parts composers write for the sections of an orchestra, except here Bird is his own orchestra.
At Monday's concert, Bird played with a percussionist, a bassist-saxophonist and a guitarist. Though his band members add depth to his music and keep him in time, they are no replacement for his ability to create his own symphony, so he loops tracks live.
His set was meticulous in both audio and visual quality. His string instruments and vocal tracks were played through custom-designed horn-shaped speakers, one of which spun to create a breezy and unpredictable Doppler effect. A Converse-sneaker wearing sock monkey sat on the edge of the speaker.
Bird told the crowd that two songs from his most recent release, "Oh No" and "Effigy," are actually derived from one song that he split in two.
"Oh No," a jocular track that Bird performed under bright red lights, describes "harmless sociopaths," a term that Bird uses to refer to the human tendency to spend a great deal of time without face-to-face communication.
Exploring the flip side, the lights dimmed blue for "Effigy," and Bird crooned about "a man who spent a little too much time alone." Part musician and part philosopher, Bird possesses a brilliant mind and understands that music has the power to cut to the heart and move the soul.
Monday's audience was very diverse, a testament to Bird's ability to transcend categories and fads.
In his New York Times blog, Bird writes, "There's a whole industry devoted to writing songs pitched towards a certain demographic. All I can do is write about what I care about and hope you might relate."
Judging by his fan base, which is rabid and growing, his choice not to pander to a specific group has resonated. Bird appeals to our collective consciousness with humorous quips and croons that have very poignant, even dark, undertones that are at times refreshingly optimistic.
Bird finished his Monday set with a song from "The Mysterious Production of Eggs" (2005) called "Tables and Chairs." He sang, "Don't you worry about the atmosphere or any sudden pressure change" because one day we will live in a world of "pony rides and dancing bears," and "there will be snacks." He sang these lyrics with such conviction that I believed him.
As Bird waved goodbye, I was caught thinking about his immense sophistication and achievement. Then, as he picked up his sneakered sock monkey and walked off stage, I glimpsed a child's sparkle in Bird's eyes. I think we could all learn a little something from Bird's masterful balance among artistry, innovation and heart.
