Spring Break of the Soul (Pau Wau Records), a full double LP, is a substantial undertaking by psych-pop artist and Austin-native Bill Baird. Spanning seventeen tracks and clocking in at an hour’s time, the album is its own adventure in wholly unique oddities and dreamily emotive punk-psych pining. There’s a lot to digest in this subversive and strange soundscape, but it’s well worth the trip, so let’s pack our bags, shall we?
Our soul’s spring-break commences somewhere amidst a rattle of cheery xylophones and cabana percussion in the seemingly peaceful title track, before mysterious vocals steal in to tell how “strangled by the heat, we crawled across the sun” and announce something about a “vacation” that “had begun.” It soon becomes clear that this professed holiday, despite embarking beautifully with the ethereal voyage that is “Sailing,” is to be quickly soured by a ready strain of punk-disillusionment. “World Gone Deaf” bounces with funky instrumentals as upfront vocals whine about the general unreceptiveness of mankind, while “Bow Down to the Brain” and “Sewage Sirens” romp obnoxiously amongst bass strings and a voice that, as the lyricist himself put it so poetically, is “like a throat of god, gargling gold.”
The saccharine flavor of Beatles nostalgia is prominent in “Lost At Sea,” which drifts on a bright beach-sound full of lyrically rich, oceanic imagery and nicely transitions us into a more reflective, melodic portion of the album. The seaside meditation of “Big Sur Reverie,” the pensive progression of “Marooned,” and the cello-lead percussive stomp of “Black Fritz” all abandon vocals in favor mellifluous instrumentals, as though the soul is trying to shed that which is superfluous in favor of introspective examination. This spring break is taking a turn for the profound, and we’re only halfway through. Take a deep breath, and continue.
Darker ambiances are whipped up in “Lake Eerie,” an uncanny instrumental track that is both hypnotic and a little frightening with pervasive buzzing and dreadful textures. The same atmosphere is extended into the hauntingly-cinematic “Shave” and the society-averse “Blob.” Towards the end of this latter track a disembodied voice tells us this is the story of “spiritual tourists” who are looking to escape by journeying inwards. It’s not particularly subtle, but it delivers on its promise that there is still interesting territory ahead.
“Go To Mexico” takes us through a transcendent Americana soundscape on the wispy tails of haunted whispers. “Inflated Head” bashes on bongos while a philosophical radio voice ironically extemporizes. “Les Paul Pointillistic” steers back towards a tropical feel with its distortion-tinged blues. Then it’s the consuming crush of “Hairy Sally” before “Santa Claus of the South,” which is our last leg of the journey. With vocals and melodies that mirror those in the opening track, the song braces against a storm of crushed percussion and screaming distortion—and some evil Santa ho-ho-ho-s—before winding down into a total fuzz-crush.
Hopefully, as you unpack your bags you’ll find that you have ended up somewhere different than where you started, and maybe that irrevocable sense that you can never un-listen to what you have just heard will linger in the back of your mind. That’s what good art should do after-all, and that is the sort of lofty goal Spring Break of the Soul strives to achieve, and perhaps does.
Editor’s note: Baird will be in Austin for SXSW and to celebrate the release of his album; more info here.
