Sunday, January 24, 2010

Sovay; Andrew Bird

Andrew Bird is a multi-instrumentalist born in Chicago. He plays, among others instruments, mandolin, glockenspiel and violin. He is also a great whistler. As good as Axl Rose and Caetano Veloso. But Andrew Bird does more: he abuses of the beauty and depth of his whistling and uses the whistling as the main “instrument” in his songs. During this week and maybe the next too, I’ll post only Bird’s songs, with as much information as I can gather.

Bird’s music style is a mix of folk, blues, rock’n’roll and baroque pop. His songs are so soothing and melancholic that I feel like they're shelter me in a cloudy day. I could hear them for hours and hours just to be warmed by Andrew’s whistlings.

The song of today is called “Sovay” and was recorded on the 2005 album “The Mysterious Production of Eggs”, which is the first album that I downloaded and I’m listening. Which is his third studio album. According Wikipedia, “‘Sovay’, was originally released as a single before appearing as the second track on his album Andrew Bird & the Mysterious Production of Eggs.
Bird, when asked about the title of the song, reportedly said that the word ‘Sovay’ was one he had heard in an old English nursery rhyme, but had never bothered to actually research. He also said that he preferred to misunderstand the meanings of songs rather than [getting] a lyric sheet.”

To bad for me. Tomorrow I’ll come with more info about himself.
I was getting ready to be a threat
I was getting set for my
Accidental suicide
The kind where no one dies
No one looks too surprised
Then you realize
That you’re riding on a para-success
Of a heavy-handed metaphor
And a feeling like you’ve been here before
Because you’ve been here before
And you’ve been here before
Then a word washed ashore
A word washed ashore
Then a word washed ashore

Sovay, sovay, sovay
All along the day

I was getting ready to consider my next plan of attack
I think I’m gonna sack
The whole board of trustees
All those don quixotes un their b-17s
And I swear this time
Yeah this time
They’ll blow us back to the 70's
And this time
They’re playin’ Ride of the Valkyries
With no semblance of grace or ease
And they’re acting on vagaries
With their violent proclivities
And they’re playing ride
Ride of the Valkyries

Sovay, sovay, sovay
All along the day

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