Rewind to almost three years ago. I'm sitting in my high school's journalism lab when Matisse turns to me and says something along the lines of, "Have you heard of Andrew Bird? You'll like him." Instantly I'm smitten by the first song she shows me: Fake Palindromes.
Fast forward to last week. Matisse and I make our way to the very edge of the stage at Andrew Bird's outdoor concert. Everything about it is indescribably beautiful. Soon enough nobody's standing in front of me, and Andrew himself is less than a stone's throw away—I can see the scruff on his face and I swear I can hear the sound of his voice before the microphone does—and he's playing an encore: Fake Palindromes.
I knew it already, but Andrew Bird is a real artist.
All I had with me was my iPhone. (But Matisse captured it beautifully on her point and shoot.)