ALBUM REVIEW: “The Mysterious Production of Eggs” by Andrew Bird
The Mysterious Production of Eggs
There’s overdubbed whistling and wailing, western-like in the far corner of the room. The tapping bell tinkles of a glockenspiel. Violins pluck and sway here and there. A folksy guitar strums center stage.
Amidst this vast layering of sonics, (Bird plays the majority of the instruments himself, even demonstrating his “professional” whistling prowess), is a melodic, swooning album that takes his early works (The Swimming Hour and Weather Systems) to grand heights.
This is not your ordinary pop record. It’s akin to taking a night’s stroll through that other neighborhood in town. Bird’s intricate lyrics hint of dark saloons, cracked beer bottles and a clutter of cigarette butts, but the dense production has you singing with happy gypsies.