Andrew Bird is an innovative musician, songwriter, multi
instrumentalist, and quite possibly the most talented whistler in the history
of folk music. He’s also a regular columnist for The New York Times, contributing occasional articles on how to
write a song and other mysteries, pulling back the curtain on his creative
process and the pleasures and pains of being a musician.
In one particular article, he recalls the childhood memory
of learning the language of music through repetition and molding. Specifically,
by chewing his cereal along to melodies, breathing in and out to music in every
waking moment:
“At any moment, I’ll
have half a dozen strong, fully realized melodies all filed away in my head. And
when I’m waiting for a plane or walking across town, I can mentally access any
of the melodies, press play, and begin fiddling with them. The goal is not to
arrive at a perfectly crafted melody and stay there, but to find fertile ground
where that spark of conception keeps firing every time I sit down to play.”
Andrew proves that it’s not being in the light, it’s about
being there before it arrives. Or, to take it one step further, instead of
waiting to be hit by the light, he decides to become the light instead.