One of his most challenging and invigorating works to date, Adam’s magnum opus Islands engages in a bit of seriously playful one-upsmanship, daring the listener to keep up with him as he takes us on a roller coaster ride through an apparently haphazard collection of themes that is ultimately revealed to be an intricately balance construct, bringing order out of chaos just as a kaleidoscope wrings symmetrical beauty from broken glass.  On a much lighter note (or slew of notes), Mr. Levin plants tongue firmly in cheek with Fanfare, a condensed compendium of his most excessive musical idiosyncrasies.  (Islands Lite, maybe?)  That he manages to have so much fun and write such good music while pointedly bursting his own balloon is a particularly telling measure of his talent.

 

From the heavy-handed to the heavy-hearted, we move to House on a Hill.  The emotional turmoil churns in this work of seething complexity, a darkly and densely beautiful piece.  This is followed by the ever-so-aptly titled Things Left Unsaid.  One of Adam’s most sinuous, sensuous melodies gets a rich, intimate jazz (a la Levin) treatment here.  And check out the great bass work!

 

Not Coming Home, a bright, jazzy song-without-words, crackles with the peculiar energy of thwarted expectations.  Next Adam lulls us with his delicate ode to self-deception, Lying in my Sleep, only to issue a defiantly swinging wake-up call in the form of an excerpt from Ivory Tower.

 

Stand Up has such quiet power, I keep expecting it to be snatched up like a banner by all the world’s dispossessed.  This anthem for the mentally ill may be the most concise and convincing evidence of Adam’s consummate gift as a songwriter.  Listen to the way he sets up the simple grace of the song proper with the desperate, defiant harmonies in the intro and bridge.

 

Walls Start Falling is my personal favorite of all of our collaborative efforts.  Simple, solid and wide open, the music is as inspirational and supportive as a writer or singer could ever hope for.  Indeed, I think more singers we know have asked to do this song than any other.

 

Finally, we have the crystalline Mantra.  Initially an attempt at bare-bones minimalism, the embellishments of this musical mandala take it – and us – from its Reich-ian roots into the sublime territory that is Adam’s own.

 

-- Peter Stoller

                                        (adapted from concert program notes)