The Bird! Birdy, Birdy, Birdy! El Burdmeister! The Birderino! Big Bird! He’s tall! He’s thin! He plays the violin! Birdo, Birdooooooo! You’re going home in a Birdo ambulance! You’re going home in a Birdo ambulance! He plays arco, he plays pizzicatooooo-woah-woah! That boy Andre Bird, means everyone else blows!
God, I love Andrew Bird. He is brilliant enough, beloved enough (by me) and well behaved enough to always have a place on this list. He’ll never align himself with some of the world’s most boneheaded white nationalists! He’ll never let me down by aggressively and continuously sexually assaulting his teenage fans!
Almost definitely not the former. Birdyskins has more than enough cerebral dollars in the bank after a uniquely thoughtful career over more than 25 years of consistent class. His previous album – 2019’s ‘My Finest Work Yet’, a title that’s debatable – was even kinda a bit political, in a way, no? And what glimmers of political affiliation that it contained would almost definitely put Birdman at odds with Kanye’s latest awakenings. Would he be similarly make a puppet using a fly net and a bottle of Yahoo to make a deliciously clever ‘Benjamin Netanyahu’ pun? Perhaps not. I guess that’s the kind of thing that separates a true artistic genius.
The sexual assault thing? I dunno, bro, probably not. He seems like a nice chap, but don’t they all? He is still a man, and I’m not sure I trust any man in the world – absolutely including myself – after writing this year’s list. I’ve had to document such fucking grossness, and we’re only just into the top 50.
Oh! Top 50!
By the way, this is how I opened my post on the previous Birdoclash record:
I am such a hack. And also a potential rapist.
Aw man! He dropped one place!
Wow, the man’s descent continues 😦