Rachel Grimes
Book Of Leaves
RUMINANCE
4/5

With Rachel Grimes’ day job chamber ensemble Rachel’s (who are not, curiously enough, named after her) currently inactive, an album that bears at least one of that group’s compelling hallmarks is welcome. Book Of Leaves is more than a Rachel’s record sans cellos, drums or electronics, however — its crisply recorded piano essays distinguished by a particular intimate lyricism, invoking autumnal wistfulness and poignant contemplation without recourse to maudlin soundtrack cliché. “Satie-esque” is frequently shorthand for any generic, reflective piano music, but the French impressionist’s dreamy Gymnopédies are a palpable inspiration here, notably on stately opener “Long Before Us.” Elsewhere, Grimes paints vivid landscapes with iridescent arpeggios, dulcet counterpoints and Michael Nyman-like staccato pulses. So transporting is her flickering right hand playing that the birdsong which decorates “The Corner Room” feels superfluous — as, by the album’s close, do those Rachel’s associations.