There are over 250,000 words in the English language, but William Tyler has decided to use none of them. Given the fact there are so many words it would seem that it was inevitable that any kind of substantial 'meaning' would gradually fade away over time (take the over-use of 'I love you' and constantly changing definitions, for example). So perhaps it is by staying clear of the complications of language that Tyler has managed to convey something with such narrative depth; a record that is a wholly instrumental affair needs to speak through its melodies rather than lyrics, which – I would guess – takes careful consideration and a profound self-awareness in order to create something that influences a listener as effectively as a catchy chorus. And so we have Tyler's second solo album, Impossible Truth, which transcends the barriers between emotion and language, his guitar expressing the voiceless words of a beating heart, a tear, a laugh, a memory, all through an exhilarating, musical enlightenment.

The wild and wandering refrains on 'Country Illusion' resemble the human processes that give us life, the melodies galloping towards a teasingly gradual unwinding melody. For just under nine minutes, steady pulses and rhythmic breaths of cadenced guitar picking interweaves with brass horns and cellos to create a spontaneously tangled yet somehow well-defined opening track. In stark contrast is 'Geography of Nowhere', which quivers and hesitates, echoes and whirrs as bluesy trills and a humming guitar delay create a darker atmosphere. That is until an indeterminate shift in key, tempo and guitar effect steer the song towards a more confidant, joyous melody that suddenly, just as unexpectedly as before, has somehow drifted back into the more solemn refrains. The effortless interweaving of what ought to be two separate tracks since they sound so different is remarkable, for rather than sounding blatantly contradictory as you might expect, they seem tailored to fit perfectly.

'Cadillac Desert' tentatively rumbles to life, incorporating what sounds like – and I hope is – a xylophone, which is probably one of the most underrated instruments in music (along with recorders and triangles, which were only really played and paid attention to in primary school music lessons or those uncomfortable orchestras that once seemed like a good idea even though it meant staying behind after school or losing lunchtimes.) Nevertheless, the xylophone-sounding instrument doesn't stick around for long, as groaning percussion-meets-brass fades away to a musical duet between two guitar refrains that echo each other – which is as romantic as guitar melodies could go – meandering towards a meditative closing strum. 'We Can't Go Home Again' swings between staccato strummed chords and lightweight fingerpicking, pausing occasionally for breath before breaking into a determined hurry that progressively slows down to a tender, fading refrain.

The country sounding 'Hotel Catatonia' is perhaps the most melodically consistent on the album, fluttering away in the same musical range – until the end, that is, when we hear a more sombre side if only for a fleeting moment, as if it were a negative afterthought that is acknowledged but promptly dismissed as something inconsequential. 'Last Residents of Westfall' optimistically uncoils and recoils as the tempo shifts excitably. Closing the album is 'The World Set Free', a beautifully titled and equally beautiful sounding track that opens your mind to the wide, deep sense of youthful adventure, disappointment, and growth; it's a track that evokes images of lying in the grass beside rivers and bramble bushes, until you are suddenly faced with an unexpected few bars of drum machines and reverberating feedback that shake you out of your dreams.

Each song is unique in its influences and melodical layering, despite their uniformly cyclic structure. The musical landscapes they create are delicately laced with a feeling of loss and hope, nostalgia and ambition, while the melodies themselves are so methodically arranged that the transition between opposite sentiments appears as natural as in life. By combining energized, playful guitar picking with emotional understanding, Impossible Truth is a sprawling collection of muted words and vocal instruments, leading you along the hidden paths in your heart. It is clear that though the truth may sometimes be impossible to say, when you are William Taylor, you need not speak with words – you are free to speak through your guitar.