Birds

Initial Reviews: 'Strumpel's previous album, Elephants, was a thundering take on the Psalms; his new one, Birds, is a creature of another kind. This acoustic affair is nimble and light on it's feet, but, if anything, even more tempestuous than it's predecessor, a gloriously disheveled affair where hoarse vocals, furiously strummed guitars, and primal trumpet blasts meet in a kind of holy hoedown, the messy nature of the performances perfectly conjuring the spirit of the songs. Here, Strumpel takes inspiration from throughout Scripture-and from Song of Solomon, in particular-to bear witness to the chaos and confusion of earthly life, and remind us of the hope and healing we find in our Lover.' -Josh Hurst, Christianity Today: 'Is Aaron Strumpel the most compelling musical artist performing from a 'Christian' perspective? His new album (Birds) answers with a resounding yes.' -Rick Bennett, Generate Magazine: 'Today, Aaron Strumpel releases Birds. Birds moves around and in and about you. It runs after you and you run after it. It picks you up by the shoulders and flies you to vital places...places that will shake your bones and heal the gash in your head if you just open your eyes/ears.' -Chris Hess, Everyday Joe's About Birds: In April 2009, Aaron Strumpel unlatched his rib cage to let the Elephants that were housed there stampede freely. Many people were trampled soulfully by those sweat-drenched gut-wrenchers. USA Today and Paste emerged from underfoot, musically bruised, to give poignant praise like '5 Stars!' and 'Stunning!'. But no sooner had the bandages been removed and washed, when he made the equally dangerous decision to pop open his brain-head to force the world to reckon with the Birds that had made their nests a-way up thar. So it came to pass and a decree went out that all Birds, both lumbering and limber wouldst exit Sir Strumpel's nogginland and be digitally transferred onto humanity via hyper-text internet web-portals. There are members of class: aves of every shape and flavor, lilting warblers and shrieking sages using their cooing and cackling vernacular to attack those who have been lulled and loosened enough to forget to remember. And lest one fears that the appearance of their plumage spells doom for each and every; that the melodious notes are omens to alarm and pierce ears only, know this: it is the canary who escapes the coal mine who sings most thankfully.