Ka Baird
Bearings: Soundtracks for the Bardos
Boomkat Product Review:
New York mainstay Ka Baird returns with their most captivating full-length, a real heady trip informed by their ecstatic live performances rocketing classic Downtown minimalism towards far-flung galaxies. The album features a cast of avant-garde mavericks including Greg Fox, Max Eilbacher, Jon Mueller, Nate Wooley and others, and comes highly recommended for anyone into Laurie Anderson., Anna Homler/Breadwoman, Rashad Becker, Ben Vince x Heather Leigh.
'Bearings...' provides a rare, curious energy that's somehow new to Baird's work, making use of extreme low end frequencies and fidgety concrète textures wrapped around theatrical vocals and that signature flute, dispersed into myriad directions. Baird’s been involved with the US underground's outer fringes for decades at this point; as a member of long-running Wisconsin ensemble Spires That In The Sunset Rise, as well as releasing a slew of albums under their own name, often collaborating with celebrated eccentrics such as Chris Corsano and Pekka Airaksinen. At this stage in their career, they've sculpted a sound that's so idiomatic that it's hard to make precise comparisons. A composer, vocalist, pianist and flautist, they're able to puncture the perceived logic of every element they touch: woodwind blasts transformed into rhythms, vocals into creased wheezes and song structure blasted into the quantum realm, split into loose molecules that form swarms and thickets of noise, dissonance and texture.
On 'Bearings...', Baird spikes compositional rigour with the open-ended nature of live performance, resulting in a set that sounds improvised and raw, but simultaneously tightly managed and lavishly gilded. This process is never more evident than on the irregular 'Gate VI', that forms a buzzing, electroid rhythm around dissociated pops and hisses, woodwind and strings that are, in time, swallowed up by modular warbles and serrated waves of static. It's not that there aren't artists attempting to alloy these particular elements, but Baird's restraint and skill makes us wonder why we've not heard anything put together quite like this before. The central beat on 'Gate III' almost mimics a pneumatic kick drum, but Baird surrounds it with smudgy, psychedelic spirit voices that mirror the rhythm, wrapping it all around febrile flute.
Baird walks a risky tightrope - the tracks are theatrical and bursting with drama, but never pretentious or overwrought. A suggestive, Bernard Herrmann-esque string theme materialises from synthetic bird calls on 'Gate IV', but it's gone in an instant, leaving us with a taste without stuffing our faces with overtly referential schmaltz. Baird likes to trace out impressions, letting our pliable minds fill in the gaps: 'Gate VII' sounds meditational at first, with an oscillating vocal drone and swirling white noise, but within minutes takes on the appearance of anodised jazz, with microscopic trumpet blasts and spittle gurgles to budge us in the right direction.
The closing ‘Gate XI' is a grinding and prismatic zoner that catches Baird at their most operatic. Singing powerfully over a beat pulse that wouldn't sound out of place on Raster Noton, Baird messes with our expectations, nodding to folk, new age and krautrock before cutting everything loose except for a single, doomed synth drone. Before the album's finished, that Bernard Herrmann string section makes another fleeting appearance, a final descent towards the gloam.
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Boomkat Product Review:
New York mainstay Ka Baird returns with their most captivating full-length, a real heady trip informed by their ecstatic live performances rocketing classic Downtown minimalism towards far-flung galaxies. The album features a cast of avant-garde mavericks including Greg Fox, Max Eilbacher, Jon Mueller, Nate Wooley and others, and comes highly recommended for anyone into Laurie Anderson., Anna Homler/Breadwoman, Rashad Becker, Ben Vince x Heather Leigh.
'Bearings...' provides a rare, curious energy that's somehow new to Baird's work, making use of extreme low end frequencies and fidgety concrète textures wrapped around theatrical vocals and that signature flute, dispersed into myriad directions. Baird’s been involved with the US underground's outer fringes for decades at this point; as a member of long-running Wisconsin ensemble Spires That In The Sunset Rise, as well as releasing a slew of albums under their own name, often collaborating with celebrated eccentrics such as Chris Corsano and Pekka Airaksinen. At this stage in their career, they've sculpted a sound that's so idiomatic that it's hard to make precise comparisons. A composer, vocalist, pianist and flautist, they're able to puncture the perceived logic of every element they touch: woodwind blasts transformed into rhythms, vocals into creased wheezes and song structure blasted into the quantum realm, split into loose molecules that form swarms and thickets of noise, dissonance and texture.
On 'Bearings...', Baird spikes compositional rigour with the open-ended nature of live performance, resulting in a set that sounds improvised and raw, but simultaneously tightly managed and lavishly gilded. This process is never more evident than on the irregular 'Gate VI', that forms a buzzing, electroid rhythm around dissociated pops and hisses, woodwind and strings that are, in time, swallowed up by modular warbles and serrated waves of static. It's not that there aren't artists attempting to alloy these particular elements, but Baird's restraint and skill makes us wonder why we've not heard anything put together quite like this before. The central beat on 'Gate III' almost mimics a pneumatic kick drum, but Baird surrounds it with smudgy, psychedelic spirit voices that mirror the rhythm, wrapping it all around febrile flute.
Baird walks a risky tightrope - the tracks are theatrical and bursting with drama, but never pretentious or overwrought. A suggestive, Bernard Herrmann-esque string theme materialises from synthetic bird calls on 'Gate IV', but it's gone in an instant, leaving us with a taste without stuffing our faces with overtly referential schmaltz. Baird likes to trace out impressions, letting our pliable minds fill in the gaps: 'Gate VII' sounds meditational at first, with an oscillating vocal drone and swirling white noise, but within minutes takes on the appearance of anodised jazz, with microscopic trumpet blasts and spittle gurgles to budge us in the right direction.
The closing ‘Gate XI' is a grinding and prismatic zoner that catches Baird at their most operatic. Singing powerfully over a beat pulse that wouldn't sound out of place on Raster Noton, Baird messes with our expectations, nodding to folk, new age and krautrock before cutting everything loose except for a single, doomed synth drone. Before the album's finished, that Bernard Herrmann string section makes another fleeting appearance, a final descent towards the gloam.
Boomkat Product Review:
New York mainstay Ka Baird returns with their most captivating full-length, a real heady trip informed by their ecstatic live performances rocketing classic Downtown minimalism towards far-flung galaxies. The album features a cast of avant-garde mavericks including Greg Fox, Max Eilbacher, Jon Mueller, Nate Wooley and others, and comes highly recommended for anyone into Laurie Anderson., Anna Homler/Breadwoman, Rashad Becker, Ben Vince x Heather Leigh.
'Bearings...' provides a rare, curious energy that's somehow new to Baird's work, making use of extreme low end frequencies and fidgety concrète textures wrapped around theatrical vocals and that signature flute, dispersed into myriad directions. Baird’s been involved with the US underground's outer fringes for decades at this point; as a member of long-running Wisconsin ensemble Spires That In The Sunset Rise, as well as releasing a slew of albums under their own name, often collaborating with celebrated eccentrics such as Chris Corsano and Pekka Airaksinen. At this stage in their career, they've sculpted a sound that's so idiomatic that it's hard to make precise comparisons. A composer, vocalist, pianist and flautist, they're able to puncture the perceived logic of every element they touch: woodwind blasts transformed into rhythms, vocals into creased wheezes and song structure blasted into the quantum realm, split into loose molecules that form swarms and thickets of noise, dissonance and texture.
On 'Bearings...', Baird spikes compositional rigour with the open-ended nature of live performance, resulting in a set that sounds improvised and raw, but simultaneously tightly managed and lavishly gilded. This process is never more evident than on the irregular 'Gate VI', that forms a buzzing, electroid rhythm around dissociated pops and hisses, woodwind and strings that are, in time, swallowed up by modular warbles and serrated waves of static. It's not that there aren't artists attempting to alloy these particular elements, but Baird's restraint and skill makes us wonder why we've not heard anything put together quite like this before. The central beat on 'Gate III' almost mimics a pneumatic kick drum, but Baird surrounds it with smudgy, psychedelic spirit voices that mirror the rhythm, wrapping it all around febrile flute.
Baird walks a risky tightrope - the tracks are theatrical and bursting with drama, but never pretentious or overwrought. A suggestive, Bernard Herrmann-esque string theme materialises from synthetic bird calls on 'Gate IV', but it's gone in an instant, leaving us with a taste without stuffing our faces with overtly referential schmaltz. Baird likes to trace out impressions, letting our pliable minds fill in the gaps: 'Gate VII' sounds meditational at first, with an oscillating vocal drone and swirling white noise, but within minutes takes on the appearance of anodised jazz, with microscopic trumpet blasts and spittle gurgles to budge us in the right direction.
The closing ‘Gate XI' is a grinding and prismatic zoner that catches Baird at their most operatic. Singing powerfully over a beat pulse that wouldn't sound out of place on Raster Noton, Baird messes with our expectations, nodding to folk, new age and krautrock before cutting everything loose except for a single, doomed synth drone. Before the album's finished, that Bernard Herrmann string section makes another fleeting appearance, a final descent towards the gloam.
Boomkat Product Review:
New York mainstay Ka Baird returns with their most captivating full-length, a real heady trip informed by their ecstatic live performances rocketing classic Downtown minimalism towards far-flung galaxies. The album features a cast of avant-garde mavericks including Greg Fox, Max Eilbacher, Jon Mueller, Nate Wooley and others, and comes highly recommended for anyone into Laurie Anderson., Anna Homler/Breadwoman, Rashad Becker, Ben Vince x Heather Leigh.
'Bearings...' provides a rare, curious energy that's somehow new to Baird's work, making use of extreme low end frequencies and fidgety concrète textures wrapped around theatrical vocals and that signature flute, dispersed into myriad directions. Baird’s been involved with the US underground's outer fringes for decades at this point; as a member of long-running Wisconsin ensemble Spires That In The Sunset Rise, as well as releasing a slew of albums under their own name, often collaborating with celebrated eccentrics such as Chris Corsano and Pekka Airaksinen. At this stage in their career, they've sculpted a sound that's so idiomatic that it's hard to make precise comparisons. A composer, vocalist, pianist and flautist, they're able to puncture the perceived logic of every element they touch: woodwind blasts transformed into rhythms, vocals into creased wheezes and song structure blasted into the quantum realm, split into loose molecules that form swarms and thickets of noise, dissonance and texture.
On 'Bearings...', Baird spikes compositional rigour with the open-ended nature of live performance, resulting in a set that sounds improvised and raw, but simultaneously tightly managed and lavishly gilded. This process is never more evident than on the irregular 'Gate VI', that forms a buzzing, electroid rhythm around dissociated pops and hisses, woodwind and strings that are, in time, swallowed up by modular warbles and serrated waves of static. It's not that there aren't artists attempting to alloy these particular elements, but Baird's restraint and skill makes us wonder why we've not heard anything put together quite like this before. The central beat on 'Gate III' almost mimics a pneumatic kick drum, but Baird surrounds it with smudgy, psychedelic spirit voices that mirror the rhythm, wrapping it all around febrile flute.
Baird walks a risky tightrope - the tracks are theatrical and bursting with drama, but never pretentious or overwrought. A suggestive, Bernard Herrmann-esque string theme materialises from synthetic bird calls on 'Gate IV', but it's gone in an instant, leaving us with a taste without stuffing our faces with overtly referential schmaltz. Baird likes to trace out impressions, letting our pliable minds fill in the gaps: 'Gate VII' sounds meditational at first, with an oscillating vocal drone and swirling white noise, but within minutes takes on the appearance of anodised jazz, with microscopic trumpet blasts and spittle gurgles to budge us in the right direction.
The closing ‘Gate XI' is a grinding and prismatic zoner that catches Baird at their most operatic. Singing powerfully over a beat pulse that wouldn't sound out of place on Raster Noton, Baird messes with our expectations, nodding to folk, new age and krautrock before cutting everything loose except for a single, doomed synth drone. Before the album's finished, that Bernard Herrmann string section makes another fleeting appearance, a final descent towards the gloam.
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Mixed by Ka Baird and Randall Dunn at Circular Ruin Studio (Brooklyn, NY) Mastered and cut by Josh Bonati for Bonati Mastering (Brooklyn, NY) Artwork by Ka Baird
Boomkat Product Review:
New York mainstay Ka Baird returns with their most captivating full-length, a real heady trip informed by their ecstatic live performances rocketing classic Downtown minimalism towards far-flung galaxies. The album features a cast of avant-garde mavericks including Greg Fox, Max Eilbacher, Jon Mueller, Nate Wooley and others, and comes highly recommended for anyone into Laurie Anderson., Anna Homler/Breadwoman, Rashad Becker, Ben Vince x Heather Leigh.
'Bearings...' provides a rare, curious energy that's somehow new to Baird's work, making use of extreme low end frequencies and fidgety concrète textures wrapped around theatrical vocals and that signature flute, dispersed into myriad directions. Baird’s been involved with the US underground's outer fringes for decades at this point; as a member of long-running Wisconsin ensemble Spires That In The Sunset Rise, as well as releasing a slew of albums under their own name, often collaborating with celebrated eccentrics such as Chris Corsano and Pekka Airaksinen. At this stage in their career, they've sculpted a sound that's so idiomatic that it's hard to make precise comparisons. A composer, vocalist, pianist and flautist, they're able to puncture the perceived logic of every element they touch: woodwind blasts transformed into rhythms, vocals into creased wheezes and song structure blasted into the quantum realm, split into loose molecules that form swarms and thickets of noise, dissonance and texture.
On 'Bearings...', Baird spikes compositional rigour with the open-ended nature of live performance, resulting in a set that sounds improvised and raw, but simultaneously tightly managed and lavishly gilded. This process is never more evident than on the irregular 'Gate VI', that forms a buzzing, electroid rhythm around dissociated pops and hisses, woodwind and strings that are, in time, swallowed up by modular warbles and serrated waves of static. It's not that there aren't artists attempting to alloy these particular elements, but Baird's restraint and skill makes us wonder why we've not heard anything put together quite like this before. The central beat on 'Gate III' almost mimics a pneumatic kick drum, but Baird surrounds it with smudgy, psychedelic spirit voices that mirror the rhythm, wrapping it all around febrile flute.
Baird walks a risky tightrope - the tracks are theatrical and bursting with drama, but never pretentious or overwrought. A suggestive, Bernard Herrmann-esque string theme materialises from synthetic bird calls on 'Gate IV', but it's gone in an instant, leaving us with a taste without stuffing our faces with overtly referential schmaltz. Baird likes to trace out impressions, letting our pliable minds fill in the gaps: 'Gate VII' sounds meditational at first, with an oscillating vocal drone and swirling white noise, but within minutes takes on the appearance of anodised jazz, with microscopic trumpet blasts and spittle gurgles to budge us in the right direction.
The closing ‘Gate XI' is a grinding and prismatic zoner that catches Baird at their most operatic. Singing powerfully over a beat pulse that wouldn't sound out of place on Raster Noton, Baird messes with our expectations, nodding to folk, new age and krautrock before cutting everything loose except for a single, doomed synth drone. Before the album's finished, that Bernard Herrmann string section makes another fleeting appearance, a final descent towards the gloam.
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