Jesse Blake Rundle’s latest single, “Continuous, Wait,” is all grit, no gloss—a dive straight into distortion. Clocking in at three and a half minutes of swirling alt-rock tension, the track snaps with alt-rock fury that’ll leave your ears ringing and your soul searching—abandoning the church, embracing queerness, clawing into music—and lived to shred about it. This isn’t your average radio-friendly tune. Nah, it’s more like a primal scream wrapped in distorted guitars and vocals that ping-pong between “I’m hurting” and “Screw you, world.”
Rundle’s not just some dude with a guitar – he’s a freaking musical wizard from Boise who’s battled his demons and come out swinging. Growing up on a Kansas farm, he was all about those church hymns and family jam sessions. But life threw him a curveball with a nasty hand injury that almost killed his music dreams. Instead of giving up, he went full mad scientist in his home studio. “Continuous, Wait” is proof that he’s not just back – he’s pissed off, poetic, and ready to melt faces with his experimental sound. The song’s got this restless energy that feels like Rundle’s own crazy journey – losing a decade of his life, then finding himself again through weird guitar tunings, nerding out on Wallace Stevens poems, and embracing his queer identity with zero apologies.
Produced by indie hero Lizzy Ellison, the song anchors Rundle’s upcoming album Wait, Sky—a cinematic follow-up to 2023’s Next Town’s Trees. They recorded it at Boise’s Mixed Metaphor Studios, and you’ve got jagged guitar riffs crashing into these eerie background noises, and get this – some random dude with a tuba by the river ended up in the mix, sounding like the world’s most ominous fart. Rundle describes the brass intrusion as “watching a strong man weep from far away,” and that tension—between strength and fragility, noise and silence—fuels the track’s magnetic pull.
“Continuous, Wait” isn’t just a preview of Wait, Sky—it’s a gift. Jesse Blake Rundle‘s guitar work pulses with the intensity of someone who’s clawed their way through hell and back. For those who’ve ever felt trapped by their past, this track is a switchblade of hope: jagged, dangerous, and impossibly alive. Plug in, turn it up, and let the noise set you free.