By Todd Lavoie
Hey, swingers! Dolls! Diggin’ those retro-futuristic sounds again, aren’t you? I know, I know: ain’t nothin’ better for sipping Mai Tais on the patio, daddy-o, than a few shakes and shimmies of an electro-samba graced by a cool, cool kitten cooing from the soft belly of outer space, is there? Now that I’ve bent your ear, how about throwing in a little Frenchified pop and maybe a sprinkle of Martin Denny exotica, while we’re at it? Sounds like a classy joint, doesn’t it?
Well, good news, space age bachelors and bachelorettes: on Thursday, July 19, at the Independent, you can indulge all of your tiki bar dreams and bossa nova fantasies, thanks to the smooth stylings of LA’s finest ambassadors of pop sophistication, the Bird and the Bee. Singer-songwriter Inara George (daughter of the late, great Little Feat funkster Lowell George) and multi-instrumentalist wizard Greg Kurstin – the respective winged creatures in question, I’d reckon – whip up a potent cocktail of late ’50s/early ’60s poolside elegance, Left Bank yeh-yeh girl intemperance, and Tropicalia free-wheeling, all served up in a postmodern update of that era’s kooky visions of a 21st century, which seemed so far away at the time.
Best of all, the duo doesn’t drown it all in irony, either! Sure, the lyrics contain a few knowing winks, but amongst the snarky irreverence – look to their bouncy bout of whimsy entitled “Fucking Boyfriend” for proof – are moments of homage so sincere that I can’t help but imagine the pair lounging around in their Ray & Charles Eames furniture, feet up, drink in hand.