A FRANK TALK ABOUT THE BIRD & THE BEE
Ever since having heard about it from their PR firm, I had been incredibly excited to see The Bird & The Bee at the Troubadour for their CD release party. I decided to take our illustrious Editor-In-Chief and make a night of it. Based on the night’s activities, we decided to stop off at Real Food Daily for dinner and partake of some amazing vegan delectations, then take our sweet time getting to the venue—we were VIP’s, after all, and had special seating.
Upon our arrival at the venue, we saw that the show had been sold-out. This always causes a mixture of feelings in me. On one hand, I’m delighted that the band I’m about to see has risen to such a well-deserved level and sold out the Troubadour for their concert; on the other hand, the Troubadour is the worst venue to try and meander through the crowds in my usual cockish swagger, especially when it is completely filled to the brim with self-described music aficionados who don’t like intruding on their neighbors’ “sphere of influence” and get upset when an asshole like me shoves in front of them.
We sauntered upstairs to the VIP bar/lounge thing and had qualms about hanging out there too long, as the floor was already full and getting fuller as Double-B set up their gear. So we headed downstairs to mingle with the groundlings. Unfortunately, for a band that sings catchy jazz songs reminiscent of Astrud Gilberto mixed with the pop sensibility of the Happy Mondays…many of their fans turned out to be absolutely dick-tacular.
Making our way to the opposite end of the room for a better view, we settled on an open spot next to the aisle near the restroom. After a moment, my glorious chief and lord was tapped on the shoulder and asked to move because his height obstructed a short fat woman from viewing the show from where she stood….at the back of the room, against the wall, where the entire crowd was already blocking her from seeing anything. We moved slightly to the left…and giggled at her fatness.
As The Bird & The Bee took the stage, though, our little encounter with the non-Press plebeians dissipated into air as the Bird (Inara George)’s voice softly caressed the notes of the group’s opening number. Opening their set with a beautiful, soft, dulcet song was a gamble for the dynamic duo, but Inara and the Bee (Greg Kurstin) had every person in the audience captivated.
Inara’s voice is so sweet and has such tonal flawlessness that you can’t help but gawk at her, wondering how she’s pulling it off. Then she picked up her bass. Now, realizing that this woman is beautiful, can sing as an ambrosial mix between Sarah McLachlan, Imogen Heap (side note: I have to say this…Imogen Heap looks like Steve Coogan— look him up on IMDB), and Gilberto; and can do all this while playing the bass guitar at the same time—I was floored.
Accompanied by a seamless group of backup singers and talented rhythm section, the group took the audience on a time-traveling, hip-swaying, mop-topping good time. “I Hate Camera” and “Again and Again” displayed the band’s 60’s pop influence, while “Fucking Boyfriend” was a delicious jazz-infused pop song that exemplified how a live band can really bring a song from impressive to amazing.
The Bird & The Bee on compact disc sounds great, precise, and masterfully recorded. But the vivacious sound of the duo with a backup band and singers really makes the songs come to life so much better than any recorded medium can demonstrate.
So aside from the tards behind us that were acting too pompous to walk two steps to their right, I would say it was a fair evening and a very good show. 
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