Bird & Bee seems to work too busily
The band, which grabbed the limelight with a profane song title, lacks the simplicity of classic pop.
Although they took the stage to the strains of "Devo Corporate Anthem," the Bird & the Bee were wearing outfits Thursday night at the Tin Angel that had more to do with retro chic than devolutionary art-rock.
Clad in a loose-fitting A-line smock, singer Inara George (the Bird) and the three identically dressed women behind her moved their bodies in unison, while her musical partner, Greg Kurstin (the Bee), cut a low profile at his keyboards in a black suit and open-necked white shirt.
Like the Bird & the Bee's music, the visual effect was both nostalgic and postmodern, emulating the past but leaving room for commentary. Their breakthrough hit, a profane adjective plus the word "Boyfriend," set George's breathy coo to a melody with the suave simplicity of vintage Europop, with Kurstin playing electronic squiggles around the edges. Despite (or as likely because of) its unprintable title, the song spread like wildfire across music blogs and dance floors, earning the band a Tonight Show spot and a gig at Carnegie Hall, as well as a sold-out show at this more intimate room.
When the retro-futurist mixture jelled, the result was transporting. "Again and Again," built on a rhythm of synthesized kick drum and hand claps, sent George to disco wonderland on a bed of four-part female harmonies. George occasionally strapped on a bass, and her fellow vocalists added guitar and sporadic keyboards, but Kurstin's electronic beats were always the dominant force.
Although their look is pure Georgy Girl, the Bird & the Bee's covers were of more recent vintage: the Bee Gees' "How Deep Is Your Love" and Hall and Oates' "I Can't Go for That" (the latter dedicated, naturally, to the hometown crowd). But more than tipping a hat to the band's influences, the choices showed up its shortcomings.
As foreshadowed by the wordy title, the songs from the band's new album - Ray Guns Are Not Just the Future - were tripped up by its affectations, lacking the crystalline simplicity of classic pop. "Meteor" and "Diamond Dave" sounded pleasant enough, but their shiny surfaces were irregular and impenetrable.
"Love Letter to Japan" and, especially, the set-closing "Polite Dance Song" showed that the Bird & the Bee know how to strip songs down to their compelling cores. But they still sound like they're trying too hard, whereas the best pop songs sound effortless.