Reinvention is too clumsy a word for Andrew Bird, whose music has always sparkled with musical and lyrical ingenuity. But in the four years since his last full-length collection of songs, he has married and had a child, and his new album seems committed to a more earnest process of self-reflection. This being Bird, the knowing album title and title track poke fun at the idea, and elsewhere the introspection is leavened with deft wordplay and his usual twinkle-toed indie-folk. But generally, these songs set out to strip away some of the artistry and leave Bird more exposed, and as the heart-swelling sentiments of the closing song Bellevue show, it suits him well.
Ally Carnwath writes on Africa and music for the Guardian and Observer