Joe runs through every album on his iPod, mostly in alphabetical order, and offers some brief thoughts. Check out previous columns HERE.
Back in the late '00s, when I was first getting into Andrew Bird, I was bamboozled by Andrew Bird himself into not taking him seriously. You saw it when I cheated my way through our discussion of his 2005 effort Andrew Bird and the Mysterious Production of Eggs. There, I just copied and pasted a fool's outlook on Bird discography that I had written in 2009, which basically dismissed everything he had ever done before or after Production of Eggs. They were big words for someone who only listened to one other fucking Bird album (see you next time for a real apology for this when we get to Armchair Apocrypha).
But here's where, I think, Andrew Bird's own quotes made young Joe not really delve into his music as much as I should have. Multiple times in old interviews, Bird describes how he doesn't really think to much of his lyrics, and they basically don't mean anything.
Here's a 2009 interview with NPR: "Bird's lyrics often feature archaic language... which he chooses mainly for their sound... When selecting words for lyrics... he's more interested in feel than in exact, specific definitions."
And a 2008 NYT article written by Bird himself: "What is becoming more challenging of late is dealing with so many fully formed melodies that are unwilling to change their shape for any word. So writing lyrics becomes like running multiple code-breaking programs in your head until just the right word with just the right number of syllables, tone of vowel and finally some semblance of meaning all snap into place."
And Bird in a 2009 AVClub interview: "The melodies come out so strong that I'm like, 'Oh, crap.' It's really better if they could both be kind of able to compromise, but the melodies, even more recently, they come out very fully cast and formed. So you've got one thing that's fixed and another thing that sort of has to accommodate the melody."
Okay, okay, you get the point. I'm not even saying that I'm a "lyrics-first" type of music listener. But still, the way that Bird had constantly downplayed his lyrics, insisting that they weren't as important as the melody, the self-deprecation was kind of a turn-off.
All that to say that Andrew Bird finally put out an album that can have its cake and eat it too with the release of 2016's Are You Serious.
My notes for this post say "Are You Serious is Bird getting serious," which is groan-worthy for sure, but still, I don't have a better way of putting it. Go through the lyrics on this album, and a lot of it reads coherently, which is a huge step for Bird. It's actually kind of wild how well everything congeals here. For a guy who has seemingly spent his whole career saying that he is a musician first, whistler second, and lyricist third, it fucking thrilling to see him grow this poetic talent that, let's be honest, we all knew was strong in the first place.
Gone are the mad libs, and in their place are such songs as "Chemical Switches," a ditty using actual chemicals as a stand-in for romantic chemistry; such songs as "Roma Fade," in which the singer loves a women but is also very much aware that he's probably being creepy too; songs such as "Left-Handed Kisses," written as a duet, a self-aware love song questioning the validity of love songs; songs such as the title track, which most likely tells the tale of how Bird met his wife (and which features the line "This is all non-fiction," which is the skeleton key to the whole album, really).
The melodies, obviously, are still here. They've always been here with Andrew Bird. As always, his tunes are simple and fun and joyful. I've never complained that Andrew Bird wasn't catchy. This shit's great! Take the lead single "Capsized," with its alternating bombastic punches vs. slithering coolness, or "The New Saint Jude," which bops along with a sort of top-button-buttoned, Vampire Weekend-esque swagger.
It's just, with Are You Serious, there's something more. It's a whole product, not just a collection of violin hooks. Take the penultimate track, possibly the best thing Bird has ever done, "Valleys of the Young." It features all the hallmarks of Bird's music, like the lurching, eccentric melody, the soaring ghostly whistling, etc. But it also hits you hard with the lyrics, especially if you're like me and are still adjusting to life with a child. It speaks to the rarely-written-about-in-song feelings of fear and apprehension at the idea of having a tiny person who is solely your responsibility. The song asks these questions as the music just fucking soars around you.
It's a great fucking song, and emblematic of heights Andrew Bird can hit when everything is clicking. Are You Serious is the album where he starts hitting those heights way above his average.
Are You Serious
Andrew Bird
2016
Back in the late '00s, when I was first getting into Andrew Bird, I was bamboozled by Andrew Bird himself into not taking him seriously. You saw it when I cheated my way through our discussion of his 2005 effort Andrew Bird and the Mysterious Production of Eggs. There, I just copied and pasted a fool's outlook on Bird discography that I had written in 2009, which basically dismissed everything he had ever done before or after Production of Eggs. They were big words for someone who only listened to one other fucking Bird album (see you next time for a real apology for this when we get to Armchair Apocrypha).
But here's where, I think, Andrew Bird's own quotes made young Joe not really delve into his music as much as I should have. Multiple times in old interviews, Bird describes how he doesn't really think to much of his lyrics, and they basically don't mean anything.
Here's a 2009 interview with NPR: "Bird's lyrics often feature archaic language... which he chooses mainly for their sound... When selecting words for lyrics... he's more interested in feel than in exact, specific definitions."
And a 2008 NYT article written by Bird himself: "What is becoming more challenging of late is dealing with so many fully formed melodies that are unwilling to change their shape for any word. So writing lyrics becomes like running multiple code-breaking programs in your head until just the right word with just the right number of syllables, tone of vowel and finally some semblance of meaning all snap into place."
And Bird in a 2009 AVClub interview: "The melodies come out so strong that I'm like, 'Oh, crap.' It's really better if they could both be kind of able to compromise, but the melodies, even more recently, they come out very fully cast and formed. So you've got one thing that's fixed and another thing that sort of has to accommodate the melody."
Okay, okay, you get the point. I'm not even saying that I'm a "lyrics-first" type of music listener. But still, the way that Bird had constantly downplayed his lyrics, insisting that they weren't as important as the melody, the self-deprecation was kind of a turn-off.
All that to say that Andrew Bird finally put out an album that can have its cake and eat it too with the release of 2016's Are You Serious.
My notes for this post say "Are You Serious is Bird getting serious," which is groan-worthy for sure, but still, I don't have a better way of putting it. Go through the lyrics on this album, and a lot of it reads coherently, which is a huge step for Bird. It's actually kind of wild how well everything congeals here. For a guy who has seemingly spent his whole career saying that he is a musician first, whistler second, and lyricist third, it fucking thrilling to see him grow this poetic talent that, let's be honest, we all knew was strong in the first place.
Gone are the mad libs, and in their place are such songs as "Chemical Switches," a ditty using actual chemicals as a stand-in for romantic chemistry; such songs as "Roma Fade," in which the singer loves a women but is also very much aware that he's probably being creepy too; songs such as "Left-Handed Kisses," written as a duet, a self-aware love song questioning the validity of love songs; songs such as the title track, which most likely tells the tale of how Bird met his wife (and which features the line "This is all non-fiction," which is the skeleton key to the whole album, really).
The melodies, obviously, are still here. They've always been here with Andrew Bird. As always, his tunes are simple and fun and joyful. I've never complained that Andrew Bird wasn't catchy. This shit's great! Take the lead single "Capsized," with its alternating bombastic punches vs. slithering coolness, or "The New Saint Jude," which bops along with a sort of top-button-buttoned, Vampire Weekend-esque swagger.
It's just, with Are You Serious, there's something more. It's a whole product, not just a collection of violin hooks. Take the penultimate track, possibly the best thing Bird has ever done, "Valleys of the Young." It features all the hallmarks of Bird's music, like the lurching, eccentric melody, the soaring ghostly whistling, etc. But it also hits you hard with the lyrics, especially if you're like me and are still adjusting to life with a child. It speaks to the rarely-written-about-in-song feelings of fear and apprehension at the idea of having a tiny person who is solely your responsibility. The song asks these questions as the music just fucking soars around you.
It's a great fucking song, and emblematic of heights Andrew Bird can hit when everything is clicking. Are You Serious is the album where he starts hitting those heights way above his average.
~~~~~~~~~~~
If this album sounds interesting, try this song: "Capsized"
~~~~~~~~~~~
Stray Observations
- I know last time I said I was going to write about both this album and Armchair Apocrypha at the same time, but I couldn't bring myself to do it. It took me over two months to write about one album, let alone two.
- Andrew Bird dresses really well. I learned in one of those interviews that that is because his wife is a fashion designer for a really well-known company that I've certainly never heard of.
- ALBUM COVER: No evidence online as to what this album cover means, so let us, as we often do here, speculate. The bird, obviously, is a stand-in for Bird. The handshake, I would surmise, is the handshake between melody and lyrics that the bird/Bird finally brings to fruition.
- Andrew Bird charmingly notated his own lyrics for this album on Genius. It works here, because (as if to beat you over the head with this point) his lyrics actually mean something.
- This is the third album in a row where there should be a question mark in the title, but the punctuation mark is conspicuously absent. I guess artists don't want the listeners to think anything but certainty about an album.
NEXT TIME: Armchair Apocrypha by... sigh... Andrew Bird (not sure how I'm going to survive when we have to write about Led Zeppelin four times in a row)
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