A Plethora of Sound Available on “Noble Beast” (1st version)

Andrew Bird has done it again. With his latest release, “Noble Beast,” he’s created an album composed of a diverse group of songs influenced by everything from the singer’s classical training, to sounds heard on his Illinois farm, to a small child’s cries on an airplane trip. The result is simply fantastic.

What makes this record truly great is the widely different array of tracks it contains. Every song is different. It opens with the infectiously catchy, fast-paced, “Oh No,” which was partly inspired by a child’s cries on an airplane. The track almost automatically hooks the listener with Bird’s characteristic whistling and vocals. Contrast this with the more electric feel of “Not A Robot, But A Ghost,” which makes effective use of oboe and a crackling electric guitar. The song and Bird’s voice at its highest range are oddly similar to “Gong,” by Icelandic slow-motion rockers Sigur Ros. Similarly, “Fitz and Dizzyspells” utilizes an electric violin to bring the listened into the song.

The album also contains more traditonally inspired songs. Trips to Chicago’s Field Museum and the Garfield Park conservatory were partly responsible for the folk-influenced ballad “Natural History.” Looking still further back, the introduction to “Souverian” bears an uncanny resemblance to the start of The Buena Vista Social Club’s “Pueblo Nuevo.” Whether this similarity was intentional is debatable – Andrew Bird is known to have been highly influenced by jazz earlier in his career.
Despite the differences between songs throughout the album, the common thread of Bird’s voice, violin plucking and playing, and distinctive whistling unify this collection. Quite often the vocals are given an echo effect; this can be heard on tracks such as “Oh No,” “Masterswarm,” “Fitz and the Dizzyspells,” “The Privateer,” and “Souverian.” The result is spectral and inspiring. The warm, rumbling drumming of Martin Dosh and the various instruments of the multitalented Jeremy Ylvisaker (including organ, shortwave, and guitar), also help tie the album together.

Another subtle instrument that Bird uses to fashion this record into a whole is his ability to play with language. On “Noble Beast,” he clearly shows a fascination with words, even if they’re being used for their texture and not their context. Whether it’s the “salsify mains” and “calcified arythmatists” of “Oh No,” the “proto-Sanskrit Minoans and porto-centric Lisboans” from “Tenuousness,” or the kittens with pleurisy in “Natural History,” it’s obvious that Bird has a penchant for playing with odd words. Even more remarkable is his ability to make them work in his songs without sounding clunky or awkward.

The use of alliteration adds to this sense of playing with language as well. “Fitz and Dizzyness” gives the listener “crooks and craggy cliffs” while “Masterswarm features “flailing feudal fleas feeding from the arms of the master.” Together with Bird’s wikipedia-worthy references, this creates an engaging aural experience that rewards close listeners.

For Andrew Bird fans, “Noble Beast” is an absolute necessity. Those looking to get into his music would do well to purchase it as well. And for the true fans, there’s a deluxe edition available, with a copy of the entirely instrumental companion disk, “Useless Creatures,” included. Both are a fantastic addition to any collection.