whiskey and apples

Thursday, April 06, 2006

Bill Baird, SUNSET}}}}}}}}}}

There's a video on Bill Baird's SUNSET}}}}}}} myspace page where he walks up to the window at Taco Cabana and starts ordering his food by singing. The manager starts singing back and the dude is better than R. Kelly. An important fact about Mr. Baird: he's always like that. Ordering his food in song form at a drive-thru window and getting the workers to sing back is just a normal part of Bill's reality.

His new, yellow website, Blonde Bill has a large enough collection of songs that it feels like a free LP. Great listening for driving, rambling, strolling, riding, or any other kind of gettin-around.

My Woman Hates My Guts - mp3

My Woman Hates My Guts is a ten-minute noise-buildup that's really good for anyone who A) knows what it's like to occassionally say dumb things to their gal, B) has to drive during rush hour anywhere in the world, or C) likes noise. Wild saxophones by Carl Smith toward the end over a bed of guitar noises are just fantastic. Bill called me one night and said, "I'm trying to think of a chorus for this song. The lyrics go: My woman hates my guts, she points it at my face. My woman hates my guts, she holds a can of mace." I couldn't tell if he was serious or not. I still can't. Ever.

Bill's range is pretty vast. His silly little couplets in "Half a Man, Half a Man" (backing vocals by yours truly) are actually quite serious and heavy. "To know what happiness is, you first gotta know the sad. To find inner peace, you first gotta go mad," and later, "I write songs of love, they only bring me grief."

In Folk Swinger he proclaims (and I quote,) "Yee haw. Chee chaw. Cole slaw. Outlaws. Burnt bras. Cheez Whiz. Show biz."

And there's Sunrise, a "Cremation of Sam McGee"-style poem spoken over acoustic guitar.

Look out for a fantastic new song coming soon where he sings about Mark Twain, too. And of course there's the myspace, where you can e-stalk your favorite people: SUNSET}}}}}}


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