LINER NOTES:
"These two self-released albums from Sound Team bassist Bill Baird were supposedly meant to go together, though how so is not exactly clear. But then trying to make the instrumental Silence! and the acoustic oriented {{{Sunset}}} mesh is a fairly trivial endeavor, and one that it would appear Baird promotes in his characteristically playful/enigmatic manner. Baird seems to allow nothing to be taken too seriously, yet simultaneously infuses everything he does with an abstracted and even aloof sincerity and seriousness that it’s difficult to gage which aspect is actually undermining the other. This is the brilliance and frustration of his two latest releases as well. As if capturing that split outlook, both albums show moments of extraordinary beauty, subtlety and songwriting while also continually pushing the songs (and listener) with experimental turns, occasionally naïve lyrics and an aesthetic that seems to never want to leave well-enough alone.
{{{Sunset}}} often announces its influences rather bluntly, though never in way that seems particularly cloying. There are touches of Wilco throughout, but early Beck is certainly the lodestone for Baird as he keeps One Foot in the Grave and the other stomping in Stereopathetic Soul Manure. “Bourbon Is My Special Friend, Bourbon is My Only Friend” has the rolling guitar strum and paired baritone that might match “I Get Lonesome” while “My Woman Hates My Guts” pans for Mellow Gold. Even Beck’s zest for strange vocal out-takes pops up. But just as Beck’s exceptional songwriting still manages to shine through in spite of his distortions and commitment to the bizarre (think of the simple poignancy of “Rowboat” or “Girl Dreams”), Baird is equally capable of beautiful lines simply sung. “Sunset’s Bathtime” opens with an ethereal lightness that embraces the hope and sadness of the gloaming evening – the straightforward chords and the soft-shoed beat backing lyrics like “Side by side, with empty hands / we rise above these crowded lands / With nothing to hold us down this time / Walking where the sea / dissolves into the sky” is fantastic songwriting in any context.
The album opens with perhaps its best track, “It’s Already Here (Everything You’re Waiting For is Gone).” The bouncing horns and bass that open the song and its overall euphonious lilt match the carpe diem character of the lyrics. Although the song never reels out of control, it seems capable of such exuberance – especially when set against the more gently fuzzed hum of “Your Eyes Are Mirrors” or the wistfully pained “New York Love.”
Baird’s lyrical indulgences are sometimes too fore-grounded (“Half a Man, Half a Man”), while at other times the songs are pushed too far musically (the deep buzz and drone that overpowers the final track, “Q: Has the End of the World Already Appeared? A: This Is How It Ends”). But just as Baird’s voice is hardly polished, matching the lo-fi recording with its slight cracks and occasional dips out-of-tune, it all seems to intentionally play with expectations that refuse to let the songs easily settle. Baird draws us intimately into the album, yet always remains just an arm’s length away.
The resistance to expectations is carried out on the instrumental Silence! as well. The songs allow Baird to flex his more experimental muscles, but remain surprisingly coherent and lovely. The album begins with the aptly named “Slow Implosion,” a gradually building, though never climaxing, surge of over 12 minutes. But this epic opener is followed by “Softly,” a beautiful, spiritual movement in under two minutes that is musically reminiscent of the more graceful moments on Peter and the Wolf’s Lightness. (Red Hunter is one of the many musicians that contribute to the albums, a list that includes Nathan Stein, Jared Van Fleet, Dave Longoria and Bill’s brother Michael Baird).
The songs on Silence are all kept minimal, even at their most dramatic as on the title track. Perhaps the most striking is “Rain on the Window,” a vivid and cinematic piece that drips with a visceral beauty. “Koyannisqatsi,” which would appear to take its name from Baird’s soft chant throughout the song, is also an enveloping number, with the songwriting nodding to Philip Glass as inspiration in the album’s notes. Those notes also offer explanation of Baird’s recording techniques and ideas behind the songs, providing a contextualization that actually enriches the experience of the album rather than pinning an interpretation of the works.
Both {{{Sunset}}} and Silence! unfold in endlessly rich ways. The albums may refuse to be taken too seriously, but to dismiss the songs for their playfulness or experimentation would be to miss some truly stunning moments on both discs. And for as much as Baird’s eccentricities refuse to be reigned in, his songs remain relatable and engrossing even at their furthest stretches." - Austin Sound