Post and photo by DCist Contributor Mehan Jayasuriya

“It’s just not fair,” my friend said to me as we stood and watched multi-instrumentalist Andrew Bird perform at this year’s South by Southwest conference in Austin. “How can one guy be so talented?” Admittedly, it does seem a bit unfair: Bird holds a degree in violin performance, is an accomplished guitarist, knows a thing or two about the glockenspiel, has a soaring voice that often recalls that of Thom Yorke and is widely known for his almost superhuman whistling abilities. To top it all off, he’s an excellent songwriter, as this year’s Armchair Apocrypha more than ably demonstrates. So talented is this Bird that it has become requisite to preface reviews of his shows with effusive descriptions of his talent, as a recent Pop Matters review (not to mention this review) attests. However, as countless performers – from modern day Dylan to Cat Power’s Chan Marshall – have proven time and time again, a good performance is made of more than just raw musical talent.

On paper, opening act Joan As Police Woman (née Joan Wasser) and Andrew Bird must have seemed like a perfect pairing. A classically-trained violinist turned indie rocker, Wasser has made her name performing with a number of different bands as well as through her work as a hired gun for performers as diverse as Elton John, Lou Reed, Sheryl Crow and Antony and the Johnsons (Bird similarly recorded with swing revivalists the Squirrel Nut Zippers in his earlier days). Perhaps unwisely, Joan chose not to display her aggressive violin playing on Sunday night, opting instead for a set of mostly guitar and keyboard-driven tunes. Her slightly unnerving lyrics and off-kilter countenance didn’t seem to sit well with the crowd, with most of her set being drowned out by local chatterboxes. She did manage to get a few laughs in between songs though; introducing one song as having been written while “thinking about Whitney singing it to Bobby Brown”. Overall, however, Joan was not very well received and on a few of the more grating numbers (“Save Me” comes to mind, with its repeating whispers of – you guessed it – “Save Me”) didn’t seem to be doing herself any favors.

At just about 10 p.m., Andrew Bird took the stage to a sold-out 9:30 club and resplendent in a full suit and silver tie, introduced himself to the crowd. “Hello, I’m Andrew,” he said, kicking off his shoes, revealing black and white striped socks. “It’s nice to meet you.”