Andrew Bird – Kingsley Flood

Andrew Bird is a strange fellow.  I watched him slack-jawed a few years ago as he held down a summer festival stage by himself, weaving symphonies out of his virtuoso fiddle-playing.  He also barely uttered a word.  And he writes songs about tumors.  He at the very least doesn’t seem as adept at expressing himself outside of music, and hadn’t a clue how to respond to this unforgettable question the other week from Stephen Colbert:

“Your music is emotionally evocative. Hypothetically, one of my writers can’t listen to the album The Mysterious Production of Eggs without thinking of 2006. He had a crush on a friend, who’d made it clear that nothing was gonna happen. But after a Halloween party, where he was dressed up as Gay Abe Lincoln, and she was dressed as Raggedy Ann, they made out for hours until they both fell asleep on the couch with that album repeating all night, ONLY to have her say the next day that It was a big mistake, she loved somebody else. Can you suggest how he can get that association out of his head so he can listen to your music again?”

Bird has a new album out called Break it Yourself. But as a tribute to my new hero, Gay Abe Lincoln Who Writes For Colbert, allow me to present a personal favorite from the album he can no longer listen to.  Is it better to have loved a song and lost it? Either way, we are all about connecting music and emotion here at 1146: