Call for Essays About Any Aspect of Popular Culture, Present or Past

cover art

The Wooden Birds


(Barsuk; US: 12 May 2009; UK: 20 Apr 2009)

The Wooden Birds, the latest project of American Analog Set singer/songwriter Andrew Kenny, is a humble venture for a guy with a long resume. (He has performed with the Album Leaf, Arthur & Yu and Broken Social Scene, among many others.) The new band collects a few other seasoned musicians and departs from the Krautrock stylings of Kenny’s better-known act (which, incidentally, may be reforming), settling instead for something more traditional. Magnolia is a minor record, but it’s not effective enough for its (unassuming) ambitions. 

Kenny’s back in Austin, and the leisurely Southwest scene might have rubbed off. A strong sense of American hangs over Magnolia, from the twangy-folk timbres to the vague-suburban ennui running through the album. It’s not all modern, though. The themes and imagery of the album are familiar, timeless pop emotions—love, loss, you know the drill. But it reaches as far back as those wagons crossing Westward—an image reinforced by the group’s favoured trotting rhythm. (More on that rhythm later). The obvious parallel for this album is Jose Gonzalez, as both artists build songs patiently off repetition, pick out acoustic-guitar notes carefully and defy big melodies. However, there’s something more conventional and less affecting about the Wooden Birds.

If something rescues these tunes from mediocrity, it’s a subtle harmonic sophistication partly born out of jazz (“False Alarm”, e.g., builds off a classic major seventh chord). This sophistication gives Kenny’s arrangements room to breathe. To describe these arrangements as “minimal” would almost be an overstatement. The casual, post-Brokeback “Quit You Once”—a fine example—hops along with a sketch-like, vacant heart. “Sugar”, perhaps the most appealing song on the album, strums an appropriation of the raw, Western folk sound; it’s informed by years of listening to Johnny Cash, though infinitely softer, easier.

Kenny’s not big on irony or lyrical trickery, and so these songs come off as earnest little sketches—pretty enough—but without a great deal of power or insight. “Hailey”, for example, doesn’t come good on its initial promise, a pattering, rising melodic figure; instead, it relies on the timbre of Kenny’s voice and a simple “Oh” refrain, which alone can’t quite carry it. Other stuff may be going on in the background (when he sings, on “Choke”, “I hope you choke”, you feel it must be a knowing nod to Radiohead), but it’s always just hovering, just below the surface. And though Kenny occasionally finds a flash of personality, most of the time his voice seems smooth to the point of blending away. “Hometown Fantasy”, an exception, has the slightly nasal, celebratory delivery of a Californian. When he sings, “Maybe I’ll be your hometown fantasy / But I’m not battery operated”, it constitutes one of those rare flashes.

However, it’s a bit too little, too late. The hopping, horse-beat rhythm that adorns many of the songs on Magnolia quickly becomes predictable, and besides, compared to either Bon Iver or Phosphorescent, the Wooden Birds sound, well, slightly wooden. Emotion can be found here, but it doesn’t hit hard.


Dan Raper has been writing about music for PopMatters since 2005. Prior to that he did the same thing for his college newspaper and for his school newspaper before that. Of course he also writes fiction, though his only published work is entitled "Gamma-secretase exists on the plasma membrane as an intact complex that accepts substrates and effects intramembrane cleavage". He is currently studying medicine at the University of Sydney, Australia.

Related Articles
6 Jun 2011
Two Matchsticks is a confidently assured collection of 12 songs that work extremely well together in a consistent, even, and oak varnished form.
Now on PopMatters
PM Picks

© 1999-2015 All rights reserved.™ and PopMatters™ are trademarks
of PopMatters Media, Inc.

PopMatters is wholly independently owned and operated.