There are no rules in art. There are expectations.

Yes, there’s tradition. There’s practice. There’s excellence and quality. There’s a difference between a beginner, an amateur, and a master.

But the “rules” are made up—and they can be broken.

Today I listened to an EP from one of my favorites, Andrew Bird—a classically trained violinist whose songs blend folk, rock, and a verbose, intriguing delivery.

It’s called Borrow or Rob: five tracks that imitate, borrow, and steal from his own catalog. Two of them use the same lyrics set to different melodies, harmonies, and styles.

I love this EP. Not because I’ll replay it endlessly (I might only return to one track), but because Bird breaks the implicit rules songwriters follow.

How many songwriters reuse the same lyrics across different songs? How many build mashups of their own work—taking shards from earlier pieces and setting them in a new mosaic? Not a montage of pop references, but an evolving self-portrait.

It’s a bold move. Most songwriters wouldn’t dare the overlap. Most audiences would raise an eyebrow.

But Bird effectively says: f*** your rules.

Great artists bend expectations. That’s how art moves forward.

This isn’t a prescription. “Borrowing and robbing” doesn’t mean everyone should do the same. It’s one more direction on the map.

The artists I respect most aren’t the ones who please me most. They’re the ones who keep evolving—changing, experimenting—pushing the frontiers of their own artistry.