Bill Nace & Sakina Abdou, Ex-Locals, Ken Brenninger
Solar Myth
1131 S Broad St.
Philadelphia
May 7, 2026
I’d seen New Jersey-based experimentalist Bill Nace play a handful of shows before I caught his latest gig at Solar Myth last week. He’s always evolving towards something new, and Thursday’s set was no exception to this rule. Those that stayed for all three acts got to see Nace break out an instrument he’s been honing his skills on lately, and which I've only seen him play once before this: In the final section of his set with saxophonist Sakina Abdou, Nace started playing what looked like a long wooden box called the "taishōgoto.”
The Japanese taishōgoto is kind of like a zither with typewriter keys. Nace has developed a unique way of playing it; he has taken all but two strings off the instrument and clicks at the keys like he’s speed-typing, allowing the strings to hum continuously under his moving arpeggios. There's a smeared dollop of distortion added to it, thick but not overpowering. The sound has superficial similarities to a finger tapping guitar solo but also brings up other nuances that are hard to pin down. It’s a reach, but I might compare the sound I'm hearing to a hurdy-gurdy. As he played, I was reminded of some recordings I'd heard from the late ‘20s of a Spanish hurdy-gurdy called a Zanfona. The continuous unfolding sound of notes also made me think of a player piano, in that it's an organic sound but mechanically rendered. A friend after the show mentioned that the performance reminded him of the climax in Einstein on the Beach by Phillip Glass and Robert Wilson. Yes, that — and maybe throw in a smidge of Van Halen. All that to say it's not an easy thing to describe.
When paired with Abdou's pulsing saxophone, the performance spiraled into a sting of ecstasy. Abdou and Nace at many points merged in sound like they were part of the same breath. For Nace, the speed of the arpeggiations was a matter of keeping his fingers fluid and constant; Abdou, meanwhile, locked into a pattern of notes contingent on excelsior breathwork. I was always looking to see when Abdou’s next breath was going to happen — and from what I could tell, it ostensibly never did. I believe Abdou was using a technique called circular breathing; if you’re unfamiliar, that means the performer is breathing in air while they are blowing to create a continuous flow of music without stopping. I am by no means knowledgeable about circular breathing technique (the only saxophone player I've seen footage employing the tactic is Colin Stetson). The whole stint was even more impressive considering how Abdou stayed in absolute synchronicity with Nace while managing her breath.
Abdou seemed to effortlessly match in pace and volume everything that Nace was improvising; I couldn’t believe this was not a pre-prepared composition. Prior to picking up the taishōgoto, Nace played some guitar lines that came in and out in small waves as the set was building. He held the guitar face up on his lap, and a long metal rod stuck straight out of the bridge. He also had some form of metal rod protruding from his mouth; these interventions seemed to help him control the resonance of the instrument. As he struck, bowed, and slid all manner of sticks and files on the strings, every frequency was matched and layered with the sound of Abdou's sax, which at many points sounded exactly like Nace’s feedback.
