By Lacey Bitter
Electric guitars are for rock bands. Violins are for orchestras. Whistling is for seven dwarves working in the mines.
But together guitar, violin, whistling, the occasional glockenspiel and a booming baritone voice are the key features of multi-instrumentalist Andrew Bird, who played a sold-out show at the Roseland Theater on Saturday.
Although he plays with a full band behind him, Bird incorporates the technique of looping, meaning recording portions of melody and replaying these tracks repeatedly, to create deeply orchestrated compositions that are entirely unique to each concert. Beginning with plucking a simple background melody on the violin, he then stomps on the looping pedal so that the track plays over and over throughout the song.
He then plays a more traditional sounding bowed violin track to add to the looping composition, followed by a few intricately whistled notes.
Meanwhile, he hurries to put his violin down and swings his guitar around to start playing some resounding chords just as the drums, bass and lead guitar blast through the speakers, rounding out the symphony.
Since the looped tapes are recorded live at each individual show, every song is slightly different every time.
Occasionally Bird would begin a song at Saturday's show, but then his perfectionistic tendencies would usurp the song, spurring him to start anew with a fresh loop.
"That was just weird," he said after playing the first few notes of one song on the violin. "You gotta decide if you can live with it." He chose not to live with it in that circumstance, succumbing to the spontaneity of live looping.
The overlapped musical elements form one piece that seems inseparable. Once Bird has added several elements, he joins them together to become one beautifully looped masterpiece instead of any distinguishable pieces. When the song reaches fulfillment, Bird strikes the looping pedal again with his socked foot (he threw off his shoes shortly after arriving on stage), cutting away the tracks one by one until he's left in the silence of the stage - or more likely, engulfed by enthusiastic applause.
Last Saturday's Portland show, the midwesterner's first local appearance in nearly two years, was similarly highlighted by overlapped melodies. The looping pedal was in tireless use as he played songs from his newly released fifth solo album, "Noble Beast," as well as past favorites.
While technically on tour supporting his latest album, Bird seemed aware of his fans' desire to hear older material. Music fans often request old favorites in lieu of newer and thus less familiar songs, but in this case, Bird's new album seems to lack some of the freshness of his earlier efforts.
Bird is entirely unique in his music. A music fan would be very hard-pressed to find anyone in the history of music whose violin talent rivals his, whose voice drones in the same way as his, who incorporates the unique plucking style of violin playing in a rock song as seamlessly as he can, or who can whistle with half as much precision as he is capable of.
However, in his uniqueness Bird becomes mundane. Upon first listen, nothing sounds like his smoothly assimilated and distinctly instrumentated songs, but after compiling five solo albums, three albums under the moniker Andrew Bird's Bowl of Fire and seven EPs and live albums, the uniqueness runs short.
Undoubtedly Bird is an exquisite violinist. Having studied violin since age four and with a college degree in violin performance, he more than proves his credentials, and that is visible in his music.
This polished instrumental talent is rare in modern pop music in any form, but the violin is an especially underutilized instrument.
His perfected violin skill, along with his impeccable whistling abilities, set him far from competition on studio albums and in live performances. His sometimes nonsensical lyrics equally distinguish him, as few other artists incorporate meaningless words and phrases like "imitosis" and "salsify mains" into their music.
"I'm really an instrumentalist who sings words and if you care to pay attention you might enjoy them," Bird wrote for a New York Times blog post about songwriting. "Something catches my attention and I file it subconsciously. It often begins with an archaic or obscure word I have not defined. I just like the sound of it and its elusive meaning gives it a mysterious shine."
Indeed, at his concert few fans were singing along. This could be attributed to Bird's improvisational performing style, but more likely nobody could make complete sense of any of the words of his songs and certainly not remember them.
Despite his uniqueness as a musician, Bird has developed his own clichés, which unfortunately his latest album slides into all too often. In performance, though, few musicians can match his talent or creativity.
Looped together in one overlapped composition of a live performance, Bird strides onto stage to create what no one else can. Using the tools of rock bands, orchestras and whistling dwarves, he leaves the audience swept in silent contemplation of his loopy musical talent.
