Andrew Bird: “Noble Beast”

Rising out of the dark, electric shadows of his 2007 album,  Armchair Apocrypha, Andrew Bird greets the dawn of 2009 with Noble Beast, a set of carefully crafted and (mostly) acoustic songs which sound gorgeously lazy thanks to their heavy country-folk leanings. Much like it’s cover photo of a country field at either the first rays of dawn or the last dying glow before dusk, Noble Beast is a calm, peaceful, laid back affair–so much so, in fact, that it may come across during a first listen as being a little soft in the teeth, but that is far from the truth. It’s teeth are sharp, they just take their time sinking into you. Bird’s wit and lyrical prowess are in top notch, as expected, while his violin, acoustic guitar, and whistle get plenty of action on this daydream-paced record.

Though each of Bird’s records have had a distinct sound and style, all of them are sonically tied together by his violin, whistling, distinct arrangements, and carefree vocal delivery. And so in some ways, this sounds like a typical Andrew Bird album, yet, because of the prominence of the folk-y acoustic guitars and the unencumbered ease with which these songs roll along and unfold, the record has an alluring looseness about it. It’s so easy-going, that it may take a few listens to really catch onto to the nuanced treasures that are embedded in the music and words of these songs. But for any listener who puts in a little time, a uniquely rewarding listening experience awaits. The violin-guitar interplay that graces most of these songs adds an intricacy to the music that perfectly matches the complex wordplay, yet the songs never feel like gimmicks or mere word games, they resonate on an emotional level revealing a real substance beneath the surface.

Anyone familiar with the previous work of Andrew Bird knows that he is a brilliant lyricist as well as a gifted weaver of themes in his music. Much of this record is spent meditating on what it is to be human. Surely, a human being is the “noble beast” in focus here. A human is at once similar to the rest of the animal kingdom, and yet, above the rest of the animals with an intrinsic dignity and nobility that no Zebra or Dachshund could ever attain. And yet, a “noble beast” sounds like a bit of a paradox–it brings to mind a creature that is at once proper and wild, intelligent and instinctive, good and evil; yet, that sounds very much like the contradictory, messy beauty that we call the human experience. From this strating point the themes of Noble Beast spring and there are few wordsmiths who could handle them like Andrew Bird. The words from his pen are simultaneously thought-provoking and entertaining (note: you may need a dictionary and lyric sheet for some of these tunes).

To quote extensive lyrics would ruin them by removing them from their proper context as well as their medium, after all, these are lyrics, not poems. However, one example may be needed. Bird taps into certain universal feelings of inadequacy, guilt, and conscience in creative ways that capture feelings that people have every day: “So they took me to the hospital/They put my body through a scan/What they saw there would impress them all/For inside me grows a man/Who speaks with perfect diction/As he orders my eviction/As he acts with more conviction than I.” Those words appear in “Masterswarm,” but how exactly do they fit with the rest of that song and it’s reflections on insect metamorphosis? That’s part of the fun with Andrew Bird, the songs are so well-crafted, music and words so inextricably connected, that the songs are both beautiful objects to be admired as well as puzzles to be unlocked.

The best thing about Andrew Bird (and any record for which he tunes his violin) is the unparalleled sense of professionalism and craft with which he works. It never feels like he gives anything less than his best and with Noble Beast being his seventh studio album, that’s a track record difficult to compete with. On tracks like “Anonanimal,” “Oh No,” and “Souverian” it certainly feels like Bird puts more thought and care into making a song than many artists put into entire albums. This is what fans have come to expect from Bird, and it’s what brings them back with such fervent devotion. Sure, he might come across as a bit of an egghead with his extensive, clever wordplay–but he is a talented egghead who seems to understand people and his music is all the better for it. This record doesn’t roar through the stereo like a mighty river, rather, it trickles and bubbles along like a brooke, slowly drawing the listener downstream. Noble Beast is a slowly intoxicating album which should not be missed and, in time, it may reveal itself to be Bird’s greatest album yet.

Andrew Bird
Noble Beast
Fat Possum, 2009
Rating: 4.0/5.0