Sometimes before going to a super awesome concert, I get that jittery feeling. Or the feeling that my blood cells are going to explode. You know, tingly, on the verge of happiness-induced death. Hopefully you know the feeling.

I didn’t feel that way before seeing Andrew Bird at Union Hall last night. Maybe the cozy, “just like your friend’s basement” setting put me at ease. Or not. Despite that I was very excited and have been intensely listening to Andrew’s music for the past few months, there was no tingle, not even when my friend pointed out that we’d be standing just a few feet away from him.

All I did was expect greatness. Yup, that’s it. Perfection in an imperfect way. And I feel like that’s what I got.

thingy behind him is ...rotating
yes, the room is very colorful

The band quietly went on stage in front of the 100-odd crowd and went into…awesomeness. Andrew is like some crazy perfect whistling machine who can pluck/play violin and guitar while playing footsie with his delay modeler (good god, I want one) making sure to plink on the xylophone every now and then and spin the giant thingamabobber when he feels like throwing violin sound waves around the room and ARRGH, IT’S CRAZINESS, YOU JUST WONDER WHY NO ONE ELSE WILL EVER BE AS COOL AS ANDREW BIRD.

Or something.


It’s peaceful craziness. His voice. HIS VOICE. His…oh whatever, I can’t really describe it. Ridiculously beautiful? Yes. It wraps around you like a blanket. That’s my favorite kind of voice—the warm soft blankety voice. But I’m sure this kind of voice varies with different people. And there are different kinds of blankets. I would call Andrew a…quilt. Maybe. A large fluffy homemade quilt.

There were some sound issues, but to me the show was perfect. I felt…comfortable. Like I was surrounded by friendly people. And the show didn’t start at some crazy late night that would result in me crawling back to my apartment after midnight. He started around 8 PM and played for about two hours. I sadly watched his gargantuan tour bus roll down Union Street sometime after 11 PM, signaling the end of the night. Or any will to live.

…just kidding. I’ll be seeing him again in May at Webster Hall. It won’t be nearly as awesome as last night, but it’s a million times better than nothing.


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Oh Sister
Glass Figurine

Update: Some more reviews…

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