Stuart Coupe, presenter of 2Ser’s Dirt Music called Upwey, “One of my favourite singer songwriter albums this year.”
“Bill Hunt’s boot-clad feet have been walking this earth for a while now, and when he has something to sing, we should listen.” – Music Feeds
“You immediately get drawn in by Hunt’s voice – high, lonesome with a keening edge that is American, Celtic and Australian.” – John Hardaker, Words and Music.
“Bill Hunt’s ‘Upwey’ record took us all by surprise a couple of years back – one of the best Australian releases of 2016.
Bill’s a genuine storyteller who writes about street life as he sees it.
I’m really looking forward to the follow up record number two.”
The Outpost (2ser Sydney)
Bill Hunt cuts across musical genres like a thwart saw, from delicately picked ballads to impassioned rhythmic storms wrung out of life as it veers from ennui to catastrophe taking in most stops between.
Quietly spoken, Hunt’s manner on stage is a flux of nervous energy mixed with a stillness that can be as captivating as it is at times unnerving, all leavened by a self-deprecating sense of humour and deep respect for his audience.
Melbourne born but residing in Sydney N.S.W., Hunt’s first album, Upwey (2016), received positive reviews and airplay on regional and metropolitan community radio across Australia.
In case you missed it the first time around… I resurrected this video in order to promote the “A Very Slight Return” shows, thus:
A strange dishevelled and unkempt bearded man is seen here some years ago singing one of my songs from an record called Upwey. Aided and abetted by Kris Schubert (from The Safety of Life at Sea), and several bottles of beer, this was shot with the benefit of about seven minutes preparation on a chilly afternoon (and the following even chillier early morning) outside Bathurst and thrown together by myself to support the first single off said record, titled Sea of Love.
“Simplicity, humility, are the thoughts that most appeal to me, at the threshold of the window ledge
Yet all my dreams are fevered, my thoughts all cantilevered; still against the bitter end I hedge…
…and I’m quite good with hedges.”
-B.H. June, 2018
My name is William Hunt, but almost everybody calls me Bill so you can too.
I’m a part-time musician, in the sense that I’m not part of what’s known as the music business. Truth be told, I don’t have a mind for business – any sort of business. I make a living from making other people’s gardens neat and tidy, and sometimes even a bit beautiful.
Music though, has always been with me. Making music comes naturally to me, which doesn’t necessarily mean I’m good at it – but that’s another matter.
When I was a boy I listened to (AM) radio; at the time that meant you could hear anything from Petula Clark and Tiny Tim to Led Zeppelin and Alice Cooper on the same station. You could also hear J.J. Cale, Tony Joe White, Bob Dylan, Joni Mitchell, Jim Stafford and many many more artists with wildly varying styles, all without touching the dial. I feel blessed to have heard so many different and great artists, even ones I didn’t like all that much, at such a young age.
It goes without saying the one time I DID touch the dial was at lunchtime on Saturdays, just in time to hear The Goon Show on the ABC.
So many memories; the sound of Melanie Safka singing Those Were the Days from a mud-spattered radio, and mixed with the sounds and smells of the dairy; Cat Stevens singing Moonshadow as I sat in my room wondering at the sense of stillness and alone-ness that has been with me, or followed a few steps behind me my whole life; Van Morrison singing Caravan from under my pillow as I lay in the early hours of the morning, in the deep silence of my grandmother’s house.
Then later, my older brother introducing me to Machine Head, Hot Rats and Diamond Dogs (via the sounds emanating from behind his closed bedroom door). I can hear and see the days of Dark Side of the Moon blasting out across a river valley baked to a rich golden hue by the summer sun; Tapestry on the floor of somebody’s room; Nina Simone’s sublime I Loves You Porgy laying side-by-side below deck on a boat owned by a woman who I never kissed.
John Coltrane, Dirty Three, Ravi Shankar, Neil Young, Billie Holiday, Sarah Vaughn, Miles Davis, Diana Ross and The Supremes, Marvin Gaye, Grant Lee-Phillips, Keith Jarratt, Charlie Parker, Chet Baker, Ry Cooder, Mink DeVille, Dusty Springfield and Sandy Denny bring us to the place where we’ve just scratched the surface of how I got here.
A quick search through my music collection has shown me that I have still omitted innumerable pivotal musical moments from my life (Tim Buckley, Muddy Waters, Lou Reed for goodness sake!!). A single song can mean as much as an entire career’s worth of work, yet neither are diminished by the greatness of the other. It’s not relative. It can’t be.
I write songs, I play guitars and sing the words in a way that seems right at the time. Sometimes I try to do or be something other than myself – it usually doesn’t work, and I realise (again) that I have what I’m meant to work with already.
I made a recording a few years ago. People I have a great deal of love and respect for put a lot of work into it so it was with some regret that I removed it from sale, but I believe it was the right thing to do as it does not represent who I am or what I do in a way that I’m happy with.
I’m working on another one.
I don’t play in public very often, but I do enjoy it very much when I have the opportunity. Sometimes I think I should do more, but I’m already quite busy with one thing and another and I play for myself quite often, so I get to hear me… which is at least half-way there.