Andrew Bird - My Finest Work Yet

It’s hard to believe that Andrew Bird has been making records for over twenty years now. After all, it seems like only yesterday that the violin-wielding songsmith was destined to be the ‘next big thing’. But while he saw measured success with releases like 2009’s Noble Beast and 2012’s Break It Yourself, Bird never really reaped the benefits of the post-Millenium indie-folk explosion. Not that he's ever seemed to mind.

Bird has spent the last decade dutifully producing one reactionary release after another, offsetting inoffensively sleek and polished full-lengths with lo-fi, field-recording-inspired adventures. In fact, one could argue that the mercurial artist has been a bit all over the place. But with all of that being said, Andrew Bird’s latest album, the not-so-ironically titled My Finest Work Yet, just might actually be his best.

Recorded ‘live on the floor’ (without headphones or separation), My Finest Work Yet is a stark departure from the intimate shine of previous releases. And the effect is felt from the start, as the album-opening “Sisyphus” leaps from the speakers with a sense of urgency rarely heard on an Andrew Bird record. Whistling a haunting melody over a sparse arrangement (featuring a perfectly captured drum sound), the song almost feels like a lost b-side from Dylan’s Planet Waves days.

“Bloodless” is yet another about-face for Bird, eschewing his all-too-familiar introspection in favor of an overtly political message (...don't you envy those who do wrong, and your innocence will be like the dawn, while the justice of your cause will shine like the noonday sun), while “Olympians” is an anthemic call-to-arms with an impassioned Bird proclaiming “we’re gonna turn it around” to any and all who will listen.

Meanwhile, the lush ballad “Cracking Codes” features some of Bird’s most effective string work to date while “Fallorun” is a mid-tempo, stage-ready romp that feels like a crowd sing-along just waiting to happen. And that’s just the first half!

From there, My Finest Work Yet continues to deliver one stunning track after another, with late-album highlights including the riveting “Proxy War” and the toe-tap-inducing “Manifest”. Bird has always been an amazing vocalist (I’ve always likened him to the Josh Groban of indie-rock), but at times, his flawless pitch has threatened to undermine the emotional impact of his material. In that respect, the live feel of My Finest Work Yet works to his advantage, as Bird’s voice has never sounded more emotive, or anguished.

Bird’s early claim to fame was his virtuosic abilities on the violin (although, the man’s no slouch on guitar either). But while early attempts to shade his indie folk with a baroque tinge were, at times, a bit ham-fisted, his penchant for sonic exploration helped set him apart from the fray. But by dialing back the heavy-handed eclecticism that defines much of his previous output, Bird has succeeded in delivering what might be his most potent musical statement to date. A wise choice given the poignant subject matter he’s chosen to explore here.

With twelve LP’s under his belt, a fan-consensus for the man’s best work is nearly impossible to find, but Bird’s latest album is the kind of musical statement that has the ability to transcend his legacy. For an artist recently quoted as saying “Total confidence is overrated”, Andrew Bird seems less concerned than ever before with coloring inside the lines. Be it warnings, ruminations, or out-right demands, My Finest Work Yet feels less like something Bird wants to say, and more like something he needs the rest of us to hear.