Andrew Bird In Philadelphia

Photo Credit: Chris Sikich

Notwithstanding near intolerable wintry weather, my Sunday night was as fantastic as the nights come. Walking in the cold amongst the 20-something guys and gals in newsboy drivers and knit berets, I smoked cigarette after cigarette in a ridiculous attempt to externalize the warmth I was feeling from “Anonanimal,” which was playing back in my head all day. Veronika, Lauren, and I scurried past bohemian hangouts and sidewalk cafes sounding acid jazz out its open doors; we scurried, like tourists lost in North Philly (but we were just cold), on and on till we came upon the old movie theater turned music venue, not far from Penn’s Landing, on 3rd and South.

If you like pizzicato and Sundance whistling documentaries and a low-key violinist turned man-of-revelry, then you’d thoroughly enjoy the likes of Mr. Bird and his band. I’ve been thinking about how to approach this entry, and have come to the conclusion it’s ineffable–I cannot describe, or in some cases induce one to enjoy, such unorthodox classical music that sounds more like East African gypsy than Mozart or Bach. I refuse to prattle, like a Rick Sanchez prototype on politics, about the joy of music that only selected people can relish. So I’ll give everyone the same run-down that I gave my friend Margaret.

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Title: you’re a lemon

The show was fantastic in so many ways. Firstly, Ra Ra Riot was highly impressive with their strings and all-around revelry. I would suggest seeing them, if you haven’t already. I’m glad Andrew provided this opportunity for them.

Now let me to indulge into the flair of last night. Andrew made it known from the beginning he was/is suffering from a low-grade fever, so he asked us to forbear our impatience, as this was the band’s first gig of the year. Mind you, he’s such a modest man, so it isn’t like impatience/disappointment would be a problem–his mannerly traits rub off on his fans, I think. But in any case, he opened up the set list with “Fitz and Dizzyspells” from the new record. Gah–so lovely! I’m biased towards that particular song, but what a rendition it was! Martin Dosh and co. are great at creating new sets for songs; but they’re so talented, I bet they could extemporize just as well. In fact, I wouldn’t mind seeing them all play on a whim, somewhere out on Andrew’s farm, just all ad lib. But anyway, this euphony continued on throughout the show, from the sweet hums of “The Privateers” to the more broad-sounding “Anonanimal” (my favorite off the new record by the way). All in all I couldn’t have been more sated.

I could prattle on for hours but I’ll spare you the time-burden. I don’t critique gigs for a living nor do I plan to; AND perhaps everything I just said IS in fact prattle–I don’t know. I simply know I enjoyed the show as much if not more than any other. It’s sometimes hard to categorize my obscure tastes in music, but when it comes to the manifold Mr. Bird provides, this is how I prefer to put it: there’s just something about a man playing music in his socks and making noises like a Japanese bird whistle that charms me. He’s an amazing musician/person and I’m so glad the indie pop horizons have accepted the music; with all its worldliness and idiosyncrasies it has, oddly enough, transpired for the best.