Bonky Bird is a child's toy: egg shaped with a protruding nose, measuring in at 5 or 6, maybe 7 inches in height, a full grip around, even for an adult. Bonky Bird balances upright by means of some internal weight system, a heave perhaps for an infant but not much of a strain for anyone that is able to comfortably lift a can of soda. A gentle nudge will set him rocking in any and every direction. Bonky Bird is capable of effortless 360º motion. Even a more forceful nudge will not lay him flat but will result in more violent and unpredictable rocking - Bonky Bird is incapable of falling over even for the most pointed efforts of more spirited children who will find their ambition unrequited at the mercy of Bonky's weighted bottom. But before you judge such children, you must first take into account the whole of Bonky Bird and the sonic temptation inherent in his existence that lies (literally) within him. Inside of Bonky Bird are bells. Evidently several or perhaps just one with several means of ringing. His egg-shaped, gravity-defying form was engineered so that when set in motion the tintinnabulation of his chimes would meet the delight of curious children. And curious adults.
Bonky Bird at the mic in session, 2017 - he is seen here with a neumann u87, marginally worthy of his talents
I am told that as a very young child most of my time spent with Bonky Bird was in a futile attempt to extract sustenance from his peculiar nose... apparently this resulted in a kind of mindless gumming. Since those days, my interest in Bonky Bird has changed considerably. Of course, I am still very interested in him, but more for the noises he makes than for the allure of his nose.
About one year ago, I began a project with Patrick J. Crowley, the lead singer and song-writer of the Burlington based band Deep River Saints. Patrick had just over a dozen songs ready to go and he asked me to record, produce, and mix an album - naturally, having known Patrick for the vast majority of my life, I agreed to do it with the concession that I could take as long as I reasonably needed and that I would be permitted wide reaching creative input. Patrick agreed and, from what I can tell, has been aligned with my aesthetic choices and general approach. The process has been one of mutual discovery and creation.
I am pre-disposed to add lots of guitar playing and other guitar-related sounds which I have done in abundance on Patrick’s album. I picked up a new Fender Vibrasonic to lend a new sound (new for me) to the project - experiments with slides, marbles, magnets, and whatever other means of extracting sound from the electric and acoustic guitar that I could think of. Manipulation of these sounds singly and in combination offered yet another palette to the sonic toolkit - gates, delays, filters, tape effects - But this is a subject for another day. Today is about Bonky Bird.
recording can be extremely intimidating…
I wanted this album to be unique and to have a sort of aural completeness. I wanted the listener to sense that every sound had emerged from electrified sonic goo. I wanted this ooze to coalesce into a coherent image. It needed to contain related elements, many characters, but one family tree. I wanted the listener to feel that while the sounds themselves had evolved from the goo, they nonetheless shared a common ancestor. I wanted the ancestry to be felt, not heard explicitly or presented too obviously. I did not want to develop a motif like an Austrian classical composer. I wanted the music to be more visceral than cognitive. Enlightened ears would intuit the common source of the sounds. Ultimately, the sound would be betrayed by its’ own DNA - like the diversity of life on Earth tracing back to a single parent. The illusion of the many collapsing into the truth of the one. A hint of oneness and nirvana would not hurt either. Or such was my plan, so I wanted the listener to feel.
I wanted this album to be tactile. I wanted the sounds to be so compelling that the listener could hear their texture and feel their contours. And what better way to bring a bit of sensory awareness than via Bonky Bird. The title of the album is "For Posterity", another affirmation of Bonky's appearance in this project. Toy piano, percussive kitchenware, spring peepers, all vestiges of youth, all heard on the album and all comfortably settling under the "Posterity" heading. In looking back on my life, I can think of no better way to celebrate my past than by encapsulating my present spirit in this work and by making an album with a childhood friend and with a toy from my infancy.
Patrick Crowley plays (with) Bonky Bird for Deep River Saints album "For Posterity"
More on Deep River Saints here: DeepRiverSaints