My second time seeing Andrew Bird perform, he put on another outstanding show. A grand yet bare stage, filled only by Mr. Bird and his drummer Martin Dosh, sat underneath the two men creating the ocean of gorgeous sounds. A violin, a guitar, two keyboards, a drum kit, and a whistle meshed into this cacophonous swirling wall that blew everyone’s hair back. I mean, I looked around after a song and people’s mouths were agape, just hanging wide open like raised garage doors. Unreal! Andrew Bird stomped around stage shaking like a politician under the weight of his words, one arm pointing up into the air promising, “there will be snacks, oh yes, there will be snacks.” Snacks!? The profound innocence of it all…just too much. He had the purest, strongest voice of anyone at the entire festival.
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