It’s still early, but Andrew Bird’s “Armchair Apocrypha” is likely to end up on nearly every indie fan’s best-of-the-year list.

Bird’s idiosyncratic blend of genres shines through invariably on “Armchair Apocrypha,” as does a controlled and conscientious use of the electric guitar, improved from its use on his highly lauded 2005 release, “The Mysterious Production of Eggs.”

Giving the songs legs are spry and syncopated drums and an incredibly diverse and adroit use of the violin, his native instrument. And of course there is the ample presence of Bird’s celebrated whistling, which has shifted away from its folkie flute-like legacy to a more spacey and powerful charge.

It’s these qualities, and Bird’s ability to fit them together, which turn the album into a power punch of great folk-pop: “Fiery Crash” is downright fun and infectious; “Imitosis” is an indie-rock tango; “Dark Matter” is a triumphant rock anthem; and “Simple X” is a sweet manifesto for social change atop electronic drum beats.

It’s quite a change from the beginning of Bird’s career, from playing with the Squirrel Nut Zippers to a slew of swing-influenced albums with his band, Andrew Bird’s Bowl of Fire.

The blend of sounds together with Bird’s tongue-in-cheek sense of humor is a perfect fit for “Armchair Apocrypha,” which Bird has characterized as replicating the “societal overthrow from the comfort of your living room.” But Bird’s music is far from pretentious or desperate for validation. On the contrary, the validation is inconspicuously woven into the songs with ingenuity and wit.

Sometimes, “Armchair Apocrypha” falls victim to a slight fatigue that also plagued “Eggs,” as both albums tend to become distracted from themselves. But Bird’s singular knack for harmonization never fails to maintain its lure – it is pop music at its most impressive.

But the aspect most responsible for this grandeur is the album’s lack of the very thing that has come to define pop music – that exaggerated and dumbed-down point of focus.

Instead, the centers of Bird’s songs emerge nowhere and everywhere simultaneously, lost somewhere in the spacey, beautiful muddle Bird creates on every track of “Armchair Apocrypha.”

As such, you can listen to the album closely and uncover its genius. Or just let the music fill the room, let the genius go to work and drift away.

– Kiran Puri