I have nothing wise or comforting to say about the death of David Lamb of Brown Bird on April 5. I knew of their music for just over a year and I saw them perform live nearly a year earlier to the day. In the review I wrote of their gig at The Ark, I mentioned how personally important “Fingers to the Bone” had been for me that week. The lyrics take on a stronger meaning now given the sudden departure of one of singing voices. The sense of mourning I have over his death is weird, of course. I didn’t know him “personally” — but that’s the strange magic of art, isn’t it? — that we “know” artists deeply even when we know them only through their work. Permit me a drop of sentiment here, OK? Listen to the lyrics and consider how you are living your life, how you are “making your living.” Make changes as necessary.
And buy all their stuff! (http://brownbird.bandcamp.com/)
