Mr. Bird

Mr. Bird

Mr. Bird

Bird Bird Bird

Psych Navigation / Vital Force

Far out, cool, groovy, bad, bad-ass, good, great, rockin’, skankin’, trippy. Pick your adjective; it’s in this disc somewhere. All musical styles cross over eventually, and today is the day hip hop and free-form jazz partner up and wig out. The hip hop has lost its anger and blatant sexuality, the cool has picked up on the concept of dance, and the spinning disco ball now only reflects the glow of a hundred iPhones.

After the sonic collage opener “Soul Troopers,” we settle down to the night’s business: being cool. “Funky Albatross” features a female scat singer. I can see her bouffant hairdo and she’s wearing a dress that’s way too tight and way too short and no one else notices as it creeps up. “Cenora Con Noz” brings up a James Brown style funky brass line and a chorus of really, really tiny hand claps. Where did the jazz go? It’s behind the bar shooting craps with the hip hop, and while they are indisposed, “The Eskimo” sets up some house bass beats and “Birds’ Grooving” adds a cheesy keyboard to the Lawrence Welk vibe of those beats. When Mr. Jazz does reappear for “Jazz Pirate” it’s full of scratched up house sounds, layered, sliced, and drizzled in secret sauce.

Eclectic, yes, Tiring? Never.

Mr. Bird:

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