Kelly Kirwan
Erin Birgy’s croon wafts across the airwaves, light as a feather even as she dips into throatier murmurs. It’s a mesmerizing pitch that’s hard to pin down, like an accent you can’t quite catch. Birgy is shrouded in this kind of magnetic mysticism as she steers Mega Bog through the eleven tracks that comprise their latest album, Happy Together. She has a spellbinding charisma that warrants rapt attention, a certain air of wisdom that has you searching in her lyrics for insight and portents of what’s to come. In short, what's to come is a tour de force, with an ensemble of thirteen lending their instrumental prowess.
In an interview with Halifax’s The Coast, Birgy described their sound as being, “hyper-sexual, Aquarian … we’re a very unreliable group and we make truly unreliable music.” The word “unreliable” often carries a negative connotation, but here it’s turned on its head. Mega Bog thrives on inconsistency—between band members and styles—in a welcoming, revolving-door kind of way. They’re interesting because they’re unpredictable.
The song "London" begins with Birgy’s spoken-word pace delicately urging, “When totally alone / Go leaping / Don’t linger … and go.” Her pitch is airy but her tone is definitive, over a sultry melody that’s rife with piquant guitars and jazzy undulations. There’s a sense that the song will burst, that the instruments will flow into a frenzy, but instead it slinks along, purposefully controlled, building tension brick by brick. It’s a song that you would expect to accompany performance art, so it's tragically fitting that it should serve as a tribute to Birgy's friend who passed away in the Oakland warehouse fire. It’s a wonderfully idiosyncratic dedication.
Then there’s "Diznee," which opens with a harpsichord-like sound and seductive saxophone swells. Birgy twists her voice so that it’s (slightly) evocative of Tiny Tim’s “Tiptoe with the Tulips”—with more fluttering jazz arrangements, of course. Then there’s the more fast-footed "Marianne," with its motif of repeating lyrics that end with an abrupt but wry irony, “Don’t get me wrong / Don’t get me wrong / I’m never really joking.” The guitars on the song almost gleam, as the percussion presses onward, and Birgy lets her voice soar, sink, and swivel overhead.
Happy Together swings between nostalgic woodwind sections and more avant-garde, eclectic mixes, often within the confines of a single track. It’s a force to be reckoned with, but we reckon you do.
