Kris Adams: Away

Troubled times, unsettled times, uncertain times, all produce a certain sort of music. It may be—as in the case of Away—music of loss. In this case, it is mostly music written by guitarist-composer Michael O'Neil. O'Neil is admittedly not well known. Yet in this soulful, translucent recording, a few musicians, one of whom knew O'Neill, provide a look into the man's heart, and into the equally disturbed time in which we live.

The vehicle is a quartet, one of whose members is singer Kris Adams. Adams, who teaches at Berklee, sings lyrics, where they exist, and functions, wordlessly, as an instrument that provides accompaniment in long tones and whole notes, something that imparts a distinctly mournful character to the music. Musicians and composers can convey emotion in a variety of ways, anything from a martial drumbeat to a minor (or major) scale choice. That requires a set of skills that few possess, at least in the measure to carry an entire recording. And, to a great extent, the recording works without seeming tedious, even though its play time exceeds an hour. The bass and piano provide the tonal and rhythmic basis, with drummer Peter Perfido taking but one solo, and it is restrained at that. The mood here is somewhere between reflective and pensive—never dark—but there are also patches of light, as in "Summer Vacation." So one gets a feel for ups and downs of life even in normal times. These are, it scarcely bears repeating, not normal times.

This is by no means music for a rainy day, or to contemplate mortality by. But it is like a piece of impressionism, like its cover art, perhaps better understood when viewed from a reasonable perspective, than by its constituent elements. Recordings like this remind one to tread lightly. This is not only a review of a recording, but of someone's entire life.