The folk/psych/pop brainchild of Austin's Bill Baird, Sunset is meditative, dramatic, electronic, and evocative of a pre-"Guero" Beck. As his nom de plume suggests, the general mood of "The Glowing City" finds its footing somewhere near Baroque melancholia, but the dramatically epic nature of the project and its variable prowess of instrumentation will leave you feeling undoubtedly triumphant. Recommended!

Sunset's Bill Baird is depressed, or maybe he's just been listening to depressing music, or maybe he's watched one too many of Wes Anderson's movies (they're both from Austin, TX); anyhow, this singer/songwriter is channeling something that has led to the creation of the must-hear prog-folk record of the summer. The Glowing City is a smorgasbord of sound that seems to have been crafted in a toy factory with a tape machine and an ethereal piano. By his lonesome, Baird is able to do what the Polyphonic Spree uses upwards of 20 musicians to achieve, which is crafting triumphant harmonies of disharmony in the style of '70s pop by the likes of ELO and Bowie. There are most likely some collaborating musicians, but Sunset is Baird's opus. As Baird alternatively croons and chants deep within a densely layered mix, you can hear his passion seep through instruments as diverse as French horns, tribal drums, Kraftwerk-esque keys, and accordions. This album is apparently the conflation of two separate complete records, yet a narrative arc is undeniable and the overall tone is cohesive to a fault. Bill Baird took some chances recording this music, and you should take a chance listening to it...the effects could be emotional. [MG] (July 2, 2008)