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Chicago-based violinist Andrew Bird, who played with the
Squirrel Nut Zippers,
debuted solo with Music of Hair (1996).
His albums with the Bowl of Fire (whose main pillar is jazz drummer Kevin O'Donnell)
offer a brilliant mixture of cabaret, dancehall music, jump blues, Appalachian folk, swing bands, and orchestral easy-listening:
Thrills (Ryko, 1998) and
Oh The Grandeur (1999), featuring Candy Shop.
The Swimming Hour (Rykodisc, 2001) marked the formal apex of the band
(especially Nora O'Connor on backing vocals), whether they were indulging in
garage-rock (Two Way Action),
blues (Why?),
Caribbean music (11:11),
rhythm'n'blues (How Indiscreet),
or orchestral ballad (Dear Old Greenland), or penning ditties such as
Way Out West and Waiting to Talk.
The spartan mini-album Weather Systems (Grimsey, 2003) failed to introduce new
elements, and in fact reduced the stylistic range of the previous album, but
still offered the gloomy Tom Waits-ian meditation I and the
Mark Kozelek-ian litany Lull.
Bird returned to the sound of the Bowl of Fire with the dizzying stylistic
whirlwind of
The Mysterious Production Of Eggs (Righteous Babe, 2005), a collection
of elegant and catchy ditties
that sound like the ultimate synthesis of the decade:
Sovay (quasi-jazz phrasing over nocturnal drum brushes and tinkling piano),
A Nervous Tic Motion Of The Head To The Left (a witty catalog of vocal and instrumental violations of the rules of pop songwriting),
The Naming of Things (the most regular melodic progression).
His songs mostly sound like detours of a career that does not want to grow up:
the fairy tale Measuring Cups,
or the hodge-podge of arrangements of Banking On A Myth,
or Opposite Day, the ultimate joke, that sounds like the deconstruction of Beatles stereotypes.
Bird has un uncanny sense of how to remodel the old-fashioned (the bucolic whistling in the Donovan-esque Masterfade,
the exotic merry-go-round of Fake Palindromes,
the crooning and string counterpoint of Tables And Chairs)
that he translates into sonic delight.
Will Oldham is the troubadour of alt-country,
Jeff Buckley was the imtimate psychologist,
Devendra Banhart is the gentle psychedelic bard,
Rufus Wainwright is the sophisticated popsmith.
Andrew Bird is all of them at the same time: master of deeply-felt singing,
master of layered arrangements, master of lyrical imagery,
master of celestial melodies, master of the bizarre
and of the subtle.
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(Translation by/ Tradotto da Walter Romano)
Il violinista di Chicago Andrew Bird, che aveva suonato con gli Squirrel Nut Zippers, debuttò da solista con Music of Hair (1996).
I suoi album con i Bowl of Fire (il cui leader era il batterista jazz Kevin O'Donnell) offrono un brillante mix di cabaret, musica da ballo, jump blues, Appalachian folk, swing e easy listening orchestrale: Thrills (1998) e Oh The Grandeur (1999), con Candy Shop. The Swimming Hour (2001) segnò l’apice formale della band (specie Nora O'Connor nei cori), che indulgeva al garage-rock (Two Way Action), al blues (Why?), alla musica caraibica (11:11), al rhythm'n'blues (How Indiscreet), alla ballata orchestrale (Dear Old Greenland), o a brevi canzoni come Way Out West e Waiting to Talk.
Lo spartano mini-album Weather Systems (2003) fallì nell’introdurre nuovi elementi, e infatti ridusse la gamma stilistica rispetto all’album precedente, offrendo comunque la cupa meditazione Waitsiana I e la litania alla Mark Kozelek Lull.
Bird tornò al sound dei Bowl of Fire col vortice stilistico di The Mysterious Production Of Eggs (2005), una collezione di canzoni eleganti e orecchiabili (A Nervous Tic Motion Of The Head To The Left, The Naming of Things, Fake Palindromes) che sembrano la sintesi definitiva del decennio. Will Oldham è il trovatore dell’alt-country, Jeff Buckley è stato profondo psicologo, Devendra Banhart garbato bardo psichedelico, Rufus Wainwright sofisticato artigiano del pop. Andrew Bird è tutte queste cose insieme: maestro del canto profondo, degli arrangiamenti, dell’immaginario lirico, delle melodie celestiali, della bizzarria e della delicatezza.
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