I'm writing this on Halloween night. It's almost 3:30 in the a.m and my eyes are kind of heavy. I want to lay down, or watch some mind-numbing infomercials, or do anything else, really. Anything besides sitting at my computer like I do just about every other night. I'm not in the mood to write, but the Birds album is forcing me to. It's making me think about shit that people who don't have to fight for survival probably think about when they're feeling pensive. Music's social importance? Well, something like that. I always forget how repulsed most are by the stuff they don't listen to. Stuff like this, I guess? What are the Birds to the average listener... why do I find beauty in this shit? Why do we as a community always have to be so intellectual about artists that don't prescribe to common aesthetics? To get under my skin, this kind of 'art' always has to confirm the creator's humanity in some way, usually through signs of vulnerability suggested by lyrics, arrangement, timbre, etc. So I'm left sitting here, overanalyzing things, asking myself "Is this some low grade form of elation I'm feeling over this Birds record?" I mean, it's not that different from the other weird folk/drone stuff that's been covered a lot recently. But at this moment, Birds Birds Birds in the World represents all those bands and albums that excite me, the ones that excite me in a much more complex and frustrating way than Led Zeppelin did when I was 14. It's this allusion of closeness or of meaning that draws me in. Catching a glimpse of the musician's humanity, right? It's those raw moments that truly strike me, rather than some huge chord change or modulation. When all the mechanics are exhausted, what comes next? Some odd feeling stirs in my chest, and I think it's some sort of appreciation. It feels completely necessary, but it's never direct anymore, and I have to wonder if what we call 'experimental music' is building to some greater understanding, some eventual personal revelation, or if it really is just wish-wash. All I know is that it makes me feel relatively stirring emotions, which is strangely addicting. It's the intention, the knowledge of a listener that adds to the Bird's allure. I give my time to these artists, and hearing what they give back, what their statement is, and how they deal with the knowledge of that exchange is truly satisfying. So right now, the Birds represent my fondest notion of humanity. Because if we are remembered or documented, or recalled at all by some future historian, I hope it's because of our cultural abnormalities and our social anomalies, not because of the long line of mediocrity that so many of our generation's artists seem to represent.
1. Green to Me
2. Beethoven's Women
3. Fama Fama
4.In the Name of the River
5. Donkeys
6. Second Door
7. Human Play
8. Fireburner
More about: The Birds
