On Bill Nace Plays the 2 String Taishogoto, Bill Nace offers a work that feels less like a conventional album and more like a beacon lit for uncertain times. A singular figure in the American underground, his creative practice extends across decades and media - music, drawing, performance, collaboration - yet there is a recognisable sensibility whenever he plays. It is difficult to describe, but easy to feel: when he performs, people tend to fall silent and pay attention, sensing that something unusual and deeply considered is taking place. His sound has a way of cutting through the usual noise of rooms, bands and venues, arriving as a kind of gentle but insistent wake‑up call.

Here we encounter two strikingly different solo sides, each revealing a distinct facet of his approach to the two‑string taishogoto, a modest stringed instrument transformed in his hands. Side A feels like the first bright flare. A spiralling figure establishes the ground, while a resonant, metallic voice sings above it, moving through murmurs, cries and sustained tones. Nace guides the interaction between instrument, amplifier and room with the assurance that comes from many years of working at the edge of feedback and distortion, allowing the sound to approach the point of collapse before redirecting it into new shapes. Within this framework, an impressive range of colours and textures emerges from just two strings, turning apparent limitation into a source of richness.

On side B, the focus shifts. Instead of evolving patterns, a single sequence of notes is articulated again and again, not as a mechanical loop but as a physical action renewed in each repetition. One becomes aware of the body behind the sound - the pulse, the small adjustments of muscle and touch that keep the phrase alive. At first there is a sense of restraint and tension, but gradually the ear adjusts, and the piece opens into an unexpectedly spacious field. Overtones and harmonics begin to accumulate and reflect, altering the perception of time as they move through the room. Once again, the expressive possibilities of the two strings seem almost inexhaustible, but now they are explored through nuance rather than volatility. Two strings, two sides: different in character yet clearly connected, they form a quietly powerful portrait of an artist and an instrument meeting at close range. It is a privilege to have this music available, and an invitation to listeners to spend time inside its very particular atmosphere.