With his ragtag, big kid look, Ryley Walker seems to be emerging from an anything goes drinking party. But the young man has come a long way. Addictions, alcohol and drugs are but a recent memory. He decided to take charge of his own destiny, launch a transition phase that would eventually strip him from his 19-gin-and-tonic-Ryley nickname. Particularly gifted at guitar picking, he possesses a unique sense for musical phrase. With Deafman Glance, he detaches himself from his older image in a very personal album, probably the most autobiographic of all. Ryley Walker has always expressed a particular affection for Chicago. He enjoys the atmosphere created by the architecture, the dreary feel of the city, the oddities, the strong smells and pollution, the beauty in its imperfections… Deafman Glance probably draws from this Chicago sound that combines jazz, folk and psychedelic. The young artist dove into jazz improvisations, taking the time to soak in the notes before adding the vocals. It’s worth mentioning that Ryley Walker has acquired a certain musical maturity that helps him play with silences. As for the vocals, he opted for almost spoken lyrics in the mould of a Merle Haggard, but in his own dark and broken style. One can picture the artist wandering the dark streets of a city at night, before comforting himself with a few more joyful ballads. Deafman Glance immerses the listener in a world of quirky mysticism roamed by spellbinding guitar solos. Hence it comes as no surprise to learn that the artist draws inspiration from the likes of John Martyn, Bert Jansch, Nick Drake and Tim Buckley. However, he has the wonderful ability to blend cynical humour with psychedelic jazz ballads through wacky lyrics like on 22 Days: My life is chicken scratch, sometimes baby you can’t sell the same shit back. A form of burlesque poetry that perfectly befits the character and is reminiscent of a few Scott Walker albums. © Clara Bismuth/Qobuz