I’d like to teach the world to sing or some form of positivity that will be viewed cynically in our fast-paced megalomaniacal society where one’s social media triumph is also their disaster. But this is not the world of Bill Baird, who blissfully ignorant of trend and tradition, stands still in that perfect flower child moment of advertising genius — without the popular soft drink and in its place genuine awe at the world of sun, trees, hippies and sentimentality. I don’t know if “Trapped in Paradise” is some psychedelic pastiche of this idealism or just me projecting all of this on the asymmetrical pop of Diamond Eyepatch but allow me this mistake if only to live in a fantasy where we’re all holding hands in a circle in an effort to stop the asteroid of division from striking us where we stand. I do know the 9-minute triptych that anchors the geodesic wander of this cassette will ward off the galactic Armageddon for awhile longer as we stand inside our Don Draper dream, oblivious to the bucolic nightmare that awaits once it hits in 1994. And in a flash, Baird will disappear and this future joy we’re having circa the past will go with it. But at least he taught the world to sing in imperfect harmony before saying goodbye to our broken planet. Now brought to you by Coke and consumerism.
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