There's something about the fading snaps and clicks of "Masterswarm"--the second track off Andrew Bird's Noble Beast--that pokes at an experience of quiet inner solitude. Strange, given the title of the track. Maybe you'd expect a song of overwhelming swarms of melodies, or one of complex, intricate structure. You'd be right to expect that, because "Masterswarm" is all those things. But, you don't feel that way while listening. You feel alone, relaxed, and underwhelmed, as if this mini-symphony were written just for you and the glass of scotch you might be kicking back with. It's music that is so wonderfully and carefully constructed that it always feels right and perfect. Such is the effect of the unique musicianship of Bird: complex contradiction breeds simple familiarity.Like most Andrew Bird albums, Beast is a dainty and crisp piece of pop-rock. There's never a note out of place, and the tight compositions of whistles, violins, vocals, and acoustic guitar are a testament to precisely crafted music. If these songs were paintings in a gallery, you'd spend a good deal of time on each one, passing over each of its sophisticated layers with that warm buzz of appreciation.
"You feel alone, relaxed, and underwhelmed, as if this mini-symphony were written just for you..."
ReplyDeleteGreat description. This is exactly how I feel when I listen to Andrew Bird's albums.
I still have to snag a copy of this one. Tell Eric I want it for Valentine’s Day. I’m only sort of kidding.