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Bill Ryder-Jones



There’s a profound sense of subtlety to the work of Bill Ryder-Jones. Over the years, he has quietly been working away, crafting seamlessly melodic, thoughtful, understated songs. His often whispering vocals and minimal guitar parts add to this sense of the subtle, but with every solo record, he continues to hone and evolve. Until he reaches the stage of releasing a record like Yawn; the kind of solo record Stephen Malkmus has been threatening to make since Pavement but never quite has. Ryder-Jones stretches many of the tracks out on the album, allowing unwinding, sprawling guitar parts to snake through the clouds of ambience he creates, tonally. There’s the occasional crunch and clatter of noise, but it’s always controlled and contained, allowing the flow and melody to carry the song forward with grace. Ryder-Jones’ career feels a bit like a slow-release drug; a steady, unfurling sense of euphoria that manages to keep on giving while offering the promise of more still to come.

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