Most artists will tell you their biggest challenge is to find their own voice. No such problem for Bill Orcutt. No ordinary craftsman, you always know when you hear one of Orcutt’s compositions. His knotty guitar, emitting a unique, thick metallic echo that has reshaped experimental guitar composition during this decade.
A prodigy of obscurity, firstly as co-founder of ’90s band, Harry Pussy, since Orcutt has embarked on an alternative tunings crusade that has seen him break boundaries at every time of asking. His cavalier approach, paving the way for collaborations alongside the likes of Chris Corsano, Zoh Amba, Ethan Miller, Steve Shelley and, most recently, Mabe Fratti (the pair, set to release their debut collaboration LP in May).
Arguably, it was Orcutt’s second LP with Corsano – 2020’s Made Out of Sound – that launched the guitarist into frightening new stratospheres. Since, Orcutt has experienced his most fertile period as a recording artist, and it continues on Music in Continuous Motion.
Expanding on his ideas from 2022’s Music for Four Guitars, Music in Continuous Motion sees Orcutt conduct a multi-faceted communication where each guitar possesses its own language. His cut-and-paste approach, at times more like a demented brand of punk. It instantly calls to mind Glenn Branca’s guitar orchestra and the works of Rhys Chatham. Except on this occasion, Orcutt is a one-man army, overriding any bombastic notions in favour of something more homespun and indebted to the blues.
Bill Orcutt - Music In Continuous MotionSuch as its cyclical nature, while Music in Continuous Motion could be indulged as one long-form piece, it’s far more layered than that. Unexpectedly heavy along with And warm to the touch, both guided by a deep metallic ring, as tracked guitars joyously bounce around the room, lighting every part of it.
Both pieces are central to Music in Continuous Motion, and from here Orcutt moves outward. Reflective, silent and Is left alone, the kind of hypnotic interactions you’d expect from Ex-Easter Island Head and their arsenal of bespoke instruments. It makes Orcutt’s work here even more fascinating, considering he has fashioned similar results via a far more skeletal approach.
There are moments where Orcutt streamlines his sound, too (perhaps like never before). With guitars melted down, the aptly titled Because sharp also smooth finds Orcutt raining hell in the world of post-rock. Meanwhile, Barely there is the kind of untethered junkyard blues that shatters glass, as shards fizz past your ears.
On Now nearly gone, Orcutt really gets into the groove. Mastering his four guitar concept, he moves down various paths, with each knot picked apart by beautiful rhythms and melody. Not via Orcutt’s cut and paste techniques, but through spacing. It’s effortless contrast, and not just via the song titles. There’s a sense of combining unusual ideas together and letting it all just naturally unravel (Impossible to reach). Galactic avant-garde akin to a planet parade.
Alongside another of his collaborators, Tashi Dorji, this decade has seen Orcutt take guitar experimentalism to the most intriguing places. The type of locales one can only reach with their own musical voice. In Orcutt’s case, he continues to develop and expand upon it with Music in Continuous Motion. The most melodic in his canon, and in time, perhaps one of his most crucial.
Music in Continuous Motion is out now via Palilalia. Purchase from Bandcamp.
