KWCW

Andrew Bird must be some sort of wizard. A Suzuki-trained violinist, he recorded several albums with his backing band, the Bowl of Fire, then began making solo albums in a barn-turned-studio outside Chicago, starting with 2003’s Weather Systems. He learned to play guitar in 2004 and sounded pretty competent by 2005, when he released The Mysterious Production of Eggs. He used his skills to create a remarkably accessible yet experimental pop record and became notorious for his live shows, in which he violently switches between instruments during songs and uses a system of pedals to create, through loops, the sound of several instruments at work while playing alone.

On this year’s Armchair Apocrypha, he delivers a very different album. However, this isn’t a bad thing. Whereas Eggs was rooted in acoustics, Armchair is driven almost as much by electric guitar, electronics and percussion as it is by Bird’s violin. Recent collaborator, tourmate, and Anticon member Martin Dosh contributes drums, beats, and piano work, adding another layer to Bird’s music and giving many of the new songs the sound of a full band to wonderful effect.

On opener “Fiery Crash,” Bird establishes his more electric approach immediately, starting the album with subdued guitar and allowing strings to weave in and out between verses, his voice sounding confident as always. Better yet is “Darkmatter,” on which Bird’s voice soars, reaching an unexpected high as the song comes to its chorus, letting drums and guitar rock out for the only time on the album. It’s stunning on first listen and pretty damn impressive five times later.

The album’s centerpiece is the seven-minute “Armchairs,” building over a minimal guitar riff, then slowly inflating as the verses are accompanied by Dosh’s piano playing, a variety of electronic sounds, and Bird’s strings, which come to demand attention as the song comes to a climax and Bird sings that “Time’s a crooked bow.” After a moment of relief, everything comes back to life, carrying the song to a striking conclusion. It’s been likened to Jeff Buckley’s “Lover, You Should’ve Come Over,” and with good reason. It’s easily one of the best songs Bird has written in this solo phase of his career.

Once again, Bird recycles his old ideas and creates something new, yet familiar, in the process. Much like “Skin is, My” was based off of a melody from “Skin” on Weather Systems, he reuses a melody from that album’s “I” to create “Imitosis.” “Simple X” is a Dosh instrumental with new vocals and lyrics by Bird, and it fits perfectly with the new material.

As a whole, Armchair Apocrypha proves that Eggs was no fluke, though given he’s now been making music for over a decade, that shouldn’t really be much of a concern. He’s willing to take risks, but he makes his new sound conform to his trademarks – his whistling, his violin, and his clever as hell lyrics – and as a result, he’s created one of the best albums of the first few months of 2007.

Grade: A

-Andrew Hall

I’ll just come out and say it: The Day I Turned to Glass is fantastic. Honeycut has crafted an album here that molds a myriad of styles into an eclectic, fascinating sound that is truly their own. But what is perhaps most impressive about this album is Honeycut’s ability to create something so varied and creative that at the same time is completely accessible and immediately familiar. Even when three or four styles are being combined in a wholly original and unexpected fashion, the music still feels entirely coherent and fully realized.

To say that Honeycut’s influences are diverse is certainly an understatement. As the album progresses, splashes of soul, funk, jazz, techno, bossa nova, pop, ambient, and rock, among others, come up, flowing together in unexpected, but incredibly pleasing ways. But what is perhaps most fascinating about the album is its apparent inability to fix itself on any of these styles. The focus of the songs is constantly shifting and evolving, bringing in new elements and discarding old ones long before they become stale. This may sound jarring, but Honeycut does it with such a smooth flow and such assuredness that the music never once loses you over the course of the album’s twelve songs.

The star of the show is unquestionably Hervé Salters, who provides keyboards, displaying a remarkable versatility with the instrument. Lulling, sweeping chords are accompanied by sharp, angular riffs and extremely funky basslines, making a rich milieu where one never knows what will come next, but when it does come it always seems perfectly natural and accessible. Bart Davenport’s distinct vocals, meanwhile, come in a confident, soulful croon, one of the only constants throughout the album, and Tony Sevener’s live, played-by-hand MIDI Production Center provides the drumbeats. Live horns and strings are also mixed in, contrasting the often electronic feel in a way that feels just as natural and exciting as the band’s constant genre mixing.

The songs themselves run a gamut of moods almost as wide-ranging as the styles they employ. The dark and funky title track, the simultaneously smooth and angular “Tough Kid”, a lush rock/pop number called “Shadows” and the horn-filled, Prince-inspired R&B of “Crowded Avenue” are the standout tracks, and all of them only reveal more and more subtle and often wonderful touches with each listen. Not all of the tracks are quite up to the standard of those four, but none of them are by any means weak and absolutely none of the album sounds out of place or like filler.

Honeycut, ultimately, almost defies classification. They’re extremely fun (often danceable, even), endlessly creative, and at the same time sound organic and electronic. It all adds up to a hugely enjoyable album that can be played through almost endlessly without losing its charm and makes a good soundtrack to almost any occasion or mood. It gets my vote for the best album of 2006, and if you give it a listen, I think it’ll at least make your top ten.

-Ben Stevens

If he wasn’t before, Frank LoCrasto certainly is the master of intellectual jazz now. When You’re There is the perfect album if you’re a fan of Maria Schneider (try “Until Dusk”) or any kind of music that’s, well, good. The standout piece is dauntingly the longest at 11:09. But “Overture/The Rathskeller/Interlude” is worth every second. It begins with a slow, diligent alto flute, leads into a soaring violin, and comes to rest atop sustained woodwinds. Soon, a jazz waltz creeps in with a wonderful amount of conspicuousness; the transition isn’t seamless, and it shouldn’t be. LoCrasto knows what he’s doing.
RIYL: Maria Schneider, good music
Rating: 4 stars, A+

-Devin Ouye Yamanaka

OK, so I get it. In fact, I really like the idea. Japanese composer Tori Kudo (sometimes known as the “Master of Mistake”) has brought together 27 tracks full of free-jazz and complex layering, explicitly to be played by amateur musicians. In an age where every album is digitally produced, pitch & tempo can be adjusted to fix the musicians’ mistakes, and performers are expected to reproduce their music exactly like studio version, Maher Shalal Hash Baz stands out as a shining beacon of music in its imperfect glory. We’re not talking about making mistakes for mistakes sake, but rather letting the music go where the musicians and their ability takes it. Great idea! Unfortunately, the end result is an album where you will find yourself cringing at some point every track. Picture going to a middle school band recital and watching some poor kid butcher a note on his solo… that’s the kind of uncomfortable feeling some of these tracks will give you. That said, it is a very genuine, real sounding album (good thing) which has its moment of freak-folk-avant-jazz bliss (even better thing). And it does some wonderful stuff like replacing the bass guitar with a bassoon. Sadly, however, I can’t make myself want to listen to it more than a couple times.

I give this album 4.5/5 artistic visions and slaps in the faces of the culture of the perfect taking over music today, but only 2.5/5 desires to hit the “repeat all” button.

-Alan