Album Review: Andrew Bird - Hands of Glory


When Andrew Bird came to Asbury Hall in July on his Break It Yourself tour, amongst his lush orchestrations and hopeful whistles, Bird also introduced three new songs that appear on the brief companion record to Break It Yourself, titled Hands of Glory. He described the coming album as “old-timey,” and two of the songs when performed live indeed conjured rosy images of families gathered by living room fireplaces for warm and crackly broadcasts during the Golden Age of Radio.

What surfaces on Hands of Glory is occasionally more modern and experimental than expected, but largely retains the gentle spirit of Bird's in-concert presentations. Although Hands of Glory is a short, humble showcase of Bird's abilities containing little “new” material, it somehow feels quietly expansive, possessing a sleepy beauty that haunts and lulls. The wit and bite of Bird's most pointed songs is absent from the pastoral sweep of this absorbing and mystical collection of sonic poetry. Nestled somewhere between cryptic and lovely, Hands of Glory's countrified tracks touch on the transcendental and sublime as promised.

According to the Guardian, the album was completely recorded using only one microphone. This nearly seems impossible given the record's richness, but is reflected in its intimacy, its simple grace. Old folk tunes like “Railroad Bill” suggest the spontaneity of  barn party ho-downs while Bird's re-working of the Break It Yourself track “Orpheo Looks Back” gets to the probing heart of the song, stripping it down to the hypnotic core that moves it. Opener “Three White Horses,” the most compelling addition to the Andrew Bird canon, builds breathlessly while keeping its focus human and close.

Containing covers from the likes of Townes Van Zandt and the Handsome Family, Hands of Glory intentionally places Bird alongside the greats of their genre. Bird's dabbling in covers and reprises, however, does make his work on the album, incredible as it is, seem more the stuff of EPs, compilations, and tribute discs as opposed to an album proper. Such a gripe though would be close-minded and unfair. Regardless of its sources, Hands of Glory is an accomplished piece of rustic art made for dawn rides over rolling hills and through dark forests, for naps in sunlit fields, and for drifting daydreams about the mystery and wonder that surrounds us.

Grade : A-




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