If you’re over a certain age one of the memes that sticks with you is Monty Python’s “and now for something completely different.” That’s the thought that crossed my mind when I heard Brooklyn resident Brayden Baird’s new album, Lord, why do you do these things to me. Some of the materials label it as anti-folk, but I’d more likely use the term anti-pop. Lyrically it has the angst, and rage, and hope, and acceptance of many a good folk song. It’s just that the slightly off-kilter vocals are mostly layered over fuzzy guitar and 2-piece drum kit.
Light in the tunnel is an ode to not giving up in face of adversity where “the light in the tunnel feels like a funnel, squeezing you out for every drop.” When will the sun rise again comes out as a rock-laced vindictive against happy, vacuous songs after a friend took their own life despite having written so many good songs. It kills me to see you sick is a pain-filled ballad about his mom being diagnosed with cancer and in his rage he hopes “you would all die too, instead of her.” When you were castrated is a pure punk telling of Baird’s decision not to go see his dying father.
Baird’s 25 years on both sides of the sound board have equipped him to put some more melodic turns to the cathartic verses. The title track is a folk rock track on most albums, with electric guitar and bongos. It’s asking a rhetorical question, but knowing the answer lies within because “that’s life anyway, it seems.” Pelican is a snappy tune with origins in a story passed down from his father’s Canadian roots. Blue for the body is a 60-second finger-snapper about the possible benefits of the various colors of Gatorade…or maybe some meds. The funnest song, and yet as sad, is Blue haired partner. It relates the decisions Baird has made over the years to not bring friends home to see his parents because of the inevitable judgements made based on appearances.
In the winter of 2023 Brayden Baird wrote a collection of songs that helped him get through an onslaught of bad news and personal challenges. There’s no sugar coating of the emotions, and the vocals and instrumentation around them are still raw. Clocking in at just 23 minutes, Lord, why do you do these things to me nonetheless leaves you drained. But like a cold plunge after a sauna, you emerge renewed, and for that I recommend listening to the record all the way through.
About the author: I've actually driven from Tehatchapee to Tonopah. And I've seen Dallas from a DC-9 at night.