Sing like a birdy... I mean like Birdy

Birdy, the singer/songwriter from the United Kingdom, has flair, if nothing else.

Her voice has a charm to it, which is a hugely unique characteristic.

Birdy's version of Bon Iver's "Skinny Love" is what brought her acclaim. (The nickname came from her parents and family, though she was born Jasmine van den Bogaerde in 1996.)

She has a "chirpy" quality about her, not just in her presence, but in her voice, as well.

Birdy doesn't add frills or decoration. They aren't necessary.

(Having said that, I must also add that I have nothing against ornamentation in music. On the contrary, my love of Baroque music stems from the use of ornamentation. And quite frankly, half of today's pop stars would be much less impressive if they didn't do the runs and falls they are known for [Christina Aguilera, Beyonce, Alicia Keys, etc].)

However, Birdy needs none of that. Her voice, where she is so young and unencumbered by life's issues, projects just that: innocence.

Still, she embodies the music. Sometimes, it seems like she knows how it all feels, all the pain and heartache. She's not even an adult, but she sure sounds like one.

Her voice is so smooth. Maybe that's because she doesn't belt. She doesn't need to. Her style of music doesn't have a need for that.

Also, something noteworthy is that Birdy plays piano almost as well as she sings.

Though this isn't her original song, it's what she's most known for, so here are the lyrics to Iver's "Skinny Love":

Come on skinny love just last the year
Pour a little salt we were never here
My, my, my, my, my, my, my, my
Staring at the sink of blood and crushed veneer

I tell my love to wreck it all
Cut out all the ropes and let me fall
My, my, my, my, my, my, my, my
Right in this moment this order's tall

And I told you to be patient
And I told you to be fine
And I told you to be balanced
And I told you to be kind
And In the morning I'll be with you
But it will be a different "kind"
I'll be holding all the tickets
And you'll be owning all the fines

Come on skinny love what happened here
Suckle on the hope in lite brassiere
My, my, my, my, my, my, my, my
Sullen load is full; so slow on the split

And I told you to be patient
And I told you to be fine
And I told you to be balanced
And I told you to be kind
And Now all your love is wasted
And Then who the hell was I?
And I'm breaking at the britches
And at the end of all your lines

Who will love you?
Who will fight?
Who will fall far behind?