Album Review: Big Bill’s Strawberry Seed

Austin’s Big Bill grows up – sort of

Reviewed by Carys Anderson, Fri., June 21, 2024

For more than a decade, Big Bill has reigned as one of Austin’s weirdest art-rock acts. Piling “angular, jarring, and adrenaline-fueled” riffs into a “cacophony of feverish, chaotic punk and absurdist humor,” as the Chronicle put it in 2018, the band united all freaks interested in the energy of the counterculture, if not the aggression. The band performs even more dynamically onstage, as singer Eric Braden leads his bandmates – dressed in matching tracksuits or coordinated primary colors – with a heightened, climbing-up-the-rafters energy somewhat dimmed on full-lengths Stand By Your Bill and Public Freakout Compilation.

Strawberry Seed, Big Bill’s third LP, bridges the gap between record and stage. Disinterested in solely compiling another roundup of quirky post-punk, Braden, bassist Alan Lauer, drummer Jeffrey Olson, and guitarist Alex Riegelman craft a real studio release, an ornate, textured project complete with acoustic guitar, glimmering synths, and classical piano. Stretching beyond their subgenre of origin, the quartet chases whatever ideas call to them – and make for their most interesting album to date.

(l-r) Alan Lauer, Alex Riegelman, Eric Braden, Jeffrey Olson (photo by Dave Creaney)

The band reimagines Smog through the eyes of the Velvet Underground on album opener “Ex-Con.” While Bill Callahan’s original relied on a contemporary blend of keyboards and horns, Big Bill’s cover plows ahead like a Sixties freight train, with driving percussion, acoustic guitar, and a beam of feedback whistling underneath. In line with this influence, Braden trades his usual nasally delivery for a speak-singing Lou Reed impression (which reappears in “That’s the Dance,” alongside a “Pale Blue Eyes”-esque melody).

Jumping from the Sixties to the Seventies, “Political Meat” tackles protest music in the vein of the Sex Pistols – pummeling yet melodic, more emotional than intellectual – with a hint of Stooges grime in Riegelman’s dirty guitar line. Not one for thrashing hardcore, Braden expresses his frustrations in “the ones who hate without hesitating at all” with a relaxed, cool-guy drawl.

Eric Braden leads his bandmates – dressed in matching tracksuits or coordinated primary colors – with a heightened, climbing-up-the-rafters energy.

Big Bill doesn’t abandon their post-punk tendencies completely. Riegelman and Lauer’s angular melodies drive working-class anthem “Poverty of Wires,” and single “Throw It Away,” a frenetic blend of bouncy bass and snappy drums, perfects the band’s classic sound. As Braden laments his tendency to waste time by likening his life to a piece of rotting fruit, the track devolves into a crazy synth freakout (is there a flute in there too?) before a slew of stacked spoken-word vocals blur together and signal its end.

Even in his political moments, Braden’s sense of humor remains. Riffing on the tired/wired meme format, he repeats the refrain “poverty is tired” in “Poverty of Wires.” In toxic masculinity takedown “Emotions,” he cracks, “Men use emotions/ They use ’em like shotguns.”

It’s more surprising when the vocalist really sings. He does so on “Crinkle the Wrapper,” a chilled-out swayer whose slide guitar evokes a vaguely Hawaiian vibe, and on “In the Garden,” a full-on love song that utilizes analog piano and glimmering synths in equal measure. The latter, in which a lovestruck Braden wonders of a lover, “How did you make the grass grow where it used to be dirt?” finds Big Bill prioritize beauty over zaniness for the first – but not the last – time.

“Beautiful Angels of the City” follows suit, as the band taps Somebody Someone’s Aubrey Hays, Tearjerk’s Vanessa Jollay, and Anastasia Wright for lush backing harmonies. Strawberry Seed wraps with “People I Meet,” a finale choice just as curious as the decision to open the LP with a cover. Another blissful slo-mo moment, the track finds Braden in a duet with Van Mary singer Emily Whetstone.

“Feel bad but don’t know why/ I spit in the Devil’s eye,” the two harmonize to twinges of Spanish acoustic guitar. Though an original composition, the track sounds nothing like Big Bill.

Weird – but then again, that’s the point.