When you grow up amid the rhythms of Beatles, Byrds and Zombies, nothing's easier for a
young band than to become a bunch of Monkees, mimicking the songs on which they were weaned. The secret to success comes from eventually forging a unique identity that truly reflects the individuals behind the music. Birddog is one of a very few young bands
that succeed at being both unique and true to their roots and instincts.
Instead of rapidly appropriating the work of an Erik Satie or La Monte Young
into their music, Birddog have evolved gracefully into a unit
than can not only mirror the work of the classic artists (McCartney, Dylan and Jim
Morrison) they listened to while growing up, but follow a path those artists never
took.
The best example of their artistry is on "Baseball", a track that recalls Soft Parade-era Doors; guitars pluck about like Robbie Krieger's rambling performances, while Bill Santen recites each lyric
like a ouija board's response to God. The swaggering thrust of his
poetic recitation goes against the song's frivolity, but you buy into
it. Each time the song's character throws a ball, it's like a lizard being
licked by Morrison -- the same impact, the same mesmerizing wonder -- and
yet it's better, as Birddog keeps the song short and spare. They leave intact the secrets of a successful Doors song, but are wise enough to strip "Baseball" of any "Morrisonic" excess. Similar touches pervade the reggae-inflected "Ten Later", which improves upon Wings'
Jamaican flavors, and on "Singapore Creek Seduction". This, too, reminds me of
seventies McCartney; perhaps it's how my favorite Beatle would have sounded if he'd adopted smart, economical production practices.
I can't say I agree with the claims made in Birddog's press materials. Their songs
sound far more confident, and far less fragile, than those of Chris Bell or
Townes Van Zandt, to whom they're compared, and the Morphine influence is absolutely lost on me.
Birddog may love these artists, but their songs don't ache
in that way -- and they needn't bother. With their third record, Birddog
have become an important voice in today's music scene, because they accept the
rhythms that feel natural and right to them, adding to them in the process.
Throughout A Sweet and Bitter Fancy, Birddog proves that
childhood influences need not cripple a band -- and that no artist, not
even Beethoven or the Ramones, has ever had the last word on a single damn
thing.