It starts off with some relatively straightforward arpeggios, tensely shifting back and forth between two chords. And then…a kind of beautiful mayhem. Shorts phrases burst to life from all possible angles, stopping briefly for moments of resonance, only to careen off in a different direction. As with most of the music in this series, this is some difficult listening.
My introduction to Bill Orcutt came only a couple of days ago. A buddy of mine who runs a small record shop knows of my predilection for odd and disturing sonics and Orcutt’s album How The Thing Sings certainly fit the bill. Not only does Orcutt abuse his acoustic guitar, he tends to moan along with said abuse. The result is a crazed echoing of Arto Lindsay, Cecil Taylor, Peter Brotzman, and Keith Jarrett.
Enjoy. Or not.
Extra credit: If you think this is harsh, check out the work that Orcutt did back in the 1990’s with the band Harry Pussy. With his wife on drums and vocals, that group played music that made Yoko Ono seem like Norah Jones.
You have been warned:
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