Lee Baggett’s newest record from Perpetual Doom, Waves for a Begull is a journey into its own emerald reality. It finds the balance between tenderness and intensity by gliding between commitment and looseness. It is full of imaginative songwriting and lucid, collaborative playing.
As a long-time west coaster, Baggett is no stranger to the underground, mystic-folk-rock explosion born from the shores of the Pacific. Collaborations between him and Kyle Fields (Little Wings), along with a string of three records released under his own, self-titled project via the New Hope, PA label, Perpetual Doom, have established Baggett as an artist who is both aware of his own sensibility and committed to exploring new avenues of expression.
While keeping the same, undeniably-Lee-feel as 2023’s Echo Me On, Baggett leans away from his piano-driven arrangements and into a more Psychedelic Pill-era-Crazy Horse trip. Returning with graceful fuzz, cascading melodies, and a killer band featuring Cory Gray (keys/horns), Samuel Farrell (bass), and Zeb Zaitz (drums), Baggett bestows the salt-cleansed keys to the aquamarine portal he’s discovered. As listeners, we are encouraged to hop onto the sea turtle’s back and venture out into the vast and looming unknown–one that feels almost amoebic, almost vague. Yet, in that brief moment of suspension, we are gently nudged into some serene, aqueous current, digging everything supple.
As a record, Waves for a Begull comes alive, and stays alive. From the first wash of “Sea Turtle,” to the end of “Sea Turtle (Return)” we’re off into the resplendent ocean, turning in the forever wash/re-wash/wash of a spin cycle, wide-eyed, ecstatic, yet relaxed.
Tunes like “Sea Turtle” and “Waves for a Begull” open up each side of the record and offer shores for departure to both set and reiterate the overall mood. On both tracks, Baggett’s screen-door rasp croons about giving oneself up to the universe with good intentions: on “Sea Turtle,” he asks it to “salt the wings of my soul” to “free the sea turtle in me” before “swimming to the edge of the world”; on “Waves for a Begull,” the theme returns, and the proverbial Begull, is “lost” and then found due to mysterious rogue forces venturing out of the depths–possibly those “corduroy lines of blue”–rolling in benevolent, out of forever. On both tunes, Baggett crushes into extended guitar solos that slowly fade into oblivion (a frequent occurrence on the record), extending the journey outwards, and giving us a good taste of how hard these guys must rip live.
Interwoven within the sheer cosmic-ness of this record, Baggett also brings the dream to a very human level: “Get it” has that low-down, real feel to it and references healthy, collaborative relationships. “Boomerang”(which is a blast to say) speaks of those tendencies (emotional or otherwise) that we can’t keep from coming back to, and “Lil Devil” is maybe an extension of this with an awesome imaginative story line about some “Subaru hatchback” following the speaker around like some dirtbag-shoulder-sinner.
Additionally, there are moments that remind listeners of the easy-goingness of Baggett’s ability to capture the bliss of really living it up. On “Used it up,” the theme revolves around making the most of every moment to the point where one can only emit some exhausted, satisfied reaction when it’s all said and done. “Enough Sunshine” is a joyous bop that sounds almost like a cut from a 90s Dylan record about falling into some encompassing warm embrace, and “No sleeping here” brings us right on back to party-time excellent-California-stoned-reality with its “soul shakedown party goin on/ceiling will be crumblin’ in.” As zenned-out as this record gets, these returns provide a humanness that balances it out nicely. In our various quests to find meaning, we’ve all been there, waving that pirate flag at 5 am, deep into a ’77 “Eyes of the World,” never comin’ down. It’s a different realness realized, but a realness just the same.
One notable high point of the record is track 3: “Good Foot Day.” This tune is an absolute breeze, and the band cooks for over 5 minutes, making all the right moves while sporting one big, shimmering grin. Baggett’s solo is particularly mesmerizing, and it’s a tune that encourages listeners to glide from Bolinas to Imperial Beach on some sun-spangled reflection.
Overall, the record is “heavier” than Baggett’s previous material in the sense that when The Dead get heavy, they only really dig you a deeper place to stand in. The waves rise a little higher, the light angles a little more incisively, and perspective shifts just enough to loosen you even more from what you thought was already sand. With Waves for a Begull, the same ideal remains: you enter into the middle of some great openness of simultaneous birth, rebirth, creation, and uncreation, but you know the thread holding you on is the same thread you’ve held onto the whole time—now it’s just a little richer, a little more worked, and a little more awfully aware about how incredibly vast it all really is.
Out now on Perpetual Doom. (again, here’s the link!)
Kevin Hegyi is a musician and writer residing in Nashville, TN. His work focuses on illuminating moments of hesitation, leaning into curiosity, and preserving the seemingly mundane acts of aerial, terrestrial, and arboreal inhabitants.
High Horse 