Bill Gupp

New York, Ny Usa

Hi. I'm Bill Gupp. Most of my friends simply say Biggup, biggup! when they see me. You can call me Bill, Guppie, fishface, or just holler like my friends do, Biggup, biggup!

Seriously though, I love music. I know, cliche, but I love to search the sounds, the writers, performers, recordings--in essence, the stories of the popular sonic patterns which annotate the moments of our lives, of my life to be sure.

I was born on the Rosebud Indian Reservation in South Dakota on July 13th, 1966. My father, whom I don't remember at all (though Mom says I look just like him), was a full-blooded Sioux Indian. My mother is a sweet old gal who has Scandinavian roots. They met in college, fell in love, had me, broke up, and mom ran back to Lincoln Nebraska where she had family.

When I was eight my mom and I moved to Austin, TX where she had been awarded a scholarship to study Linguistics at the University of Texas. Needless to say, growing up in Austin afforded me an intimate interface with a vibrant music scene.

My best friend growing up was a kid named Sean David. Sean's dad had allegedly played flute on a McCoy Tyner record, though he wasn't credited. However, Sean's dad did indeed have a record collection that, in retrospect, I now realize must have contained probably 5,000 plates. The diverse collection lined the walls of their garage. I mean he had everything, rare French 78's, 45 dubs from Kingston, and every disco/funk/jazz/doo-wop/pop record I could think of. Sean and I used to listen to record after record during those summer nights when I would stay over at his house.

My love for music continues to grow, and I strive to expand my personal aesthetic - ever longing for the unheard arrangement, voice, story.

I simply love it all!

There are certain songs, certain sounds within songs - moments in time recorded and intended to be edifying, sensual and lovely for the hearer/the lovers, yet that seem to just kill me from the inside out.

There are certain songs that hurt us all, I believe, in intimately personal ways--ways that, perhaps, are difficult to articulate. There is a language I wish to find that will capture such moments in music - such, songs to die by.

  • Work
    • Reading, thinking, writing, speaking.
  • Education
    • Public