As layers of drums, xylophone, keyboard, and sounds of pipes falling worked together to create a beautiful rhythm, a tall, lanky man in a corduroy suit & striped sweater vest walked toward center stage. He picked up his violin and began whistling & plucking away, creating the most interesting mix of sounds and melodies.

With each pluck and whistle, the man staggered back or twitched, seemingly surprised at his own creations. The stage was his own private world, where no physical reaction to the mood or music was concealed—the mad professor seen in his true form.

Without question, Andrew Bird is the strangest man I’ve ever seen on stage. His eccentricities were as intriguing as his odd melodies and seemingly incoherent lyrics. The man and his art form were indistinguishable. It was a magic show. It was the theater. It was a foreign opera of sorts.

I’ve witnessed amazing music moments, but none that left me so curious, so anxious to understand this strange man that stood before me, producing the most wonderful sounds.

And that’s the only way I can express what it was like to watch Andrew Bird & Martin Dosh weave their rhythms not more than 15ft in front of me. After the show, Ashley, Amy, and I ventured to the gallery upstairs in the theater, a collection of thrift store paintings. There was one with a unicorn. That made me happy.

My sister called to say she was out front to pick us up but then I glanced to my right and Andrew was standing in the theater lobby. I’m not one for stalking the artist, but I couldn’t fight the desire I had to see what this man was like off stage. As I waited for my turn nearby, I listened in on the other fans, telling Andrew how his music had changed their life or how they were also musicians, each showing their souvenirs and taking their photos, secretly hoping Andrew would care and remember. I talked to a stranger who’d been hanging back, also listening in. She said she found her research paper topic: Fans of indie rock.  I secretly felt embarrassed that I was in line to meet him, but I couldn’t bring myself to walk away. I racked my brain for something unique to say, also feeding that hidden urge to say something impacting and memorable..

As each group in front of me took their photos, I noticed Andrew struggling to maintain focus, clearly exhausted, and consistently sporting a lost, confused expression for each photo. And by then, I was practically right next to him, still scrambling for words. So to ease the guilt I felt about wasting his time, I thanked him for taking time to come out & talk with all of us. Amy chimed in, commenting it was the most unique start of a show she’d ever seen. We all joined in that it was truly amazing. He seemed genuinely appreciative of the comments, gracing us with a wide-eyed “wow…”. And after signing our items, it was time for our photo. We asked Martin to join in, convincing him that his music was just as inspiring and integral to the amazement we felt.

And so our two sets of friends—2 musicians leading a musical revolution and 3 friends speechless for having witnessed it—huddled together. And in all the time he’d stood there greeting his loyal fans, Andrew Bird smiled for the first time. It was a simple moment nicely captured in a photograph and the minds of 3 friends.

P.S. Andrew complimented my gloves.