The Bird and The Bird’s Tribute to Hall and Oats

I am listening to The Bird and The Bee’s Interpreting the Masters Volume 1: A Tribute to Daryl Hall and John Oats and while it is incredibly cute—check out “Kiss on my List”—it becomes tiresome all too soon.

That’s where my problem lies with The Bird and The Bee. Where they do not lack in charm, they lack in longevity. In staying power. In mystery. Reckon, it’s a flash in the pan kind of thing.

Not that it’s not a good record. It’s an excellent record. The Bird and The Bee gives another angle with which to take on these Hall and Oats favorites. But like a cute high school freshman, as soon as she walks away from your point of view, she’s done for. Faded into the corridor’s oblivion. Not to be looked for anymore.

But that’s probably hyperbole on my part, I’m sorry. Actually, they will be looked for. After the initial spin, they will haunt you. You will come looking for The Bird and The Bee’s cuteness. You cue them in but as soon as you hear them again, you realize, nah, I’m good, thanks.

This doesn’t mean a few things. It doesn’t mean the record won’t sell because it will sell; there’s enough pop sensibilities here. It doesn’t mean it’s not a good record because it is; it’s given the songs new angles.

Unfortunately, those aren’t the angles by which I want to devour these songs.  I like them as they are, thank you very much. I suppose if other, more veteran musicians do it, musicians with enough years to know the value of taking time for the music’s magic to unfold, unveiled, and revealed, maybe they’d succeed.

Or maybe it’s just me. Maybe I’m just asking too much from this cute-but-not-much-else band. Maybe it’s just my natural inclination for slow burns. Maybe this is a quickly written review, meant to heat my engine as I begin this busy week. I dunno. But yeah, how can you say no to this?