Andrew Bird stretches out in Millennium Park
Andrew Bird is gazing at his navel. The Chicago-based indie-rock darling — the man whose songs are self-described as “music that pulses with dark undertones and gypsy balladry” — has spent the summer not just making his new record (due in January) but blogging about the process. He and several other songwriters — Suzanne Vega, Peter Holsapple, Rosanne Cash and Darrell Brown — have been regular contributors to a New York Times blog called “Measure for Measure: How to Write a Song and Other Mysteries.”
Bird’s music — spacious, patient, full of swooning violins and woeful whistling, like music for a sequel to “My Own Private Idaho” — will be ably showcased in the expanse of Millennium Park during tonight’s free concert, a fund-raiser (through donations and online meet-and-greet auctions) for the music education organization Rock for Kids.
Q. How did the blog come about?
A. I was told it would be like an article — sure, I’ll write an article for the New York Times. But it turned into a blog with these other songwriters. It became a kind of ritual in the midst of making this record. I’d write a few paragraphs every night. I was a little apprehensive about it, though, about how it would mess with my head. But it ended up being pretty therapeutic.
Q. What specifically were you nervous about?
A. Sometimes being too self-aware can be the enemy of creativity, being too analytical. When I used to teach, I worried about that, as well. Having to explain things too much pulls the mysteriousness out of the creative process, makes you fit it into the explicable.
Q. How was this kind of writing different from creating lyrics?
A. Well, the way I write lyrics, very different. Sometimes I wish I could be free of the need to make any sense whatsoever [with lyrics] and just make shapes and sounds, which is kind of how I operate anyway. I work backwards from the sound toward meaning. I start with textures and melodies, but since I use the human voice I feel compelled to talk about something interesting. But that’s not my first motivation. I don’t have the need to impart a message.
Q. You’ve never blogged before?
A. No, I hardly knew what a blog was.
Q. Your last post says, “I listened to my record recently and I’m concerned about how much I like it.” Why is that cause for alarm?
A. That was me in an optimistic phase. Since then I’ve gone through total despair and “it’s all rubbish.” It always goes through those cycles. I’m in the midst of cracking the record open one more time. If I like it too much ... I don’t know, the artist isn’t supposed to be satisfied, is he?
Q. You recorded some of the tracks in the Wilco loft here in Chicago, yes?
A. Some in Nashville, some here at the loft. That’s really a great studio. We got great sounds in there.
Q. Your music seems to be all about spaces. What does a room add to the recording?
A. I’ve actually thought a lot about this lately. I guess I should blog about it. [Laughs] Sometimes the atmosphere can be wonderful and everyone is happy and well-adjusted and for whatever reason you don’t get your best work in there. Or you can be totally miserable in a basement in February with no windows and get your best work. Sometimes the room itself can bring things out of you. That Wilco loft sounds so good because [singer Jeff Tweedy] has 100 beautiful, vintage guitars sitting out on racks, all of them resonating to the sounds you make. Otherwise, it’s just a cinder-block warehouse. But it’s full of these beautiful, rare instruments that make you feel like a beautiful, rare instrument.
Q. What about a city — how does that contribute to your head space?
A. Chicago is the control center. I’ve been here all my life. I’ve been encouraged to get out of Chicago to make records. Some say it’s a good rule to get away from your comfort zone for that process. But I like riding my bike to the Wilco loft, and then coming back at the end of the day with references and putting them on my stereo.
Q. Millennium Park is a nice space. Excited about playing there?
A. I played there for its opening ceremonies, for about 15 minutes, and I’ve wanted to do a full show there ever since. It’s going to be nice to do our full show with full control. A lot of these festivals, you’re not in control of your own show. We had a choice between this and Lollapalooza, and we went with this. It wasn’t a hard decision. ... I’m planning a fair amount of solo acoustic stuff because of that space. I keep envisioning doing these swirling loops of strings coming from the different parts of that park, a kind of surround-sound mix with the atmospheric string stuff and the whistling. I’ll carve out a fair amount of the set for that kind of atmospherics. At festivals, every song has to go for the jugular. Here, I want to create something more subtle — something where you can sit back, look at the skyline and it all fits.