Even now – after some 60 years of concept albums, ambient soundscapes, and post-modern sonic collage – the idea of aural spaces existing in the same realm as their written and visual counterparts comes across as novel.
On William Eaton’s aptly titled Music by William Eaton, listeners are granted the rare opportunity for holistic interpretation. The textured yellow sleeve bears no words other than the album’s title. No song names, no demarcation of tracks, no listed instruments or accompanying musicians. In keeping with this principle, the music is without words. Within these grooves lies Guitar Soli of a New . . .
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