Christopher O'Riley
Second Grace: the music of Nick Drake
World Village

Having previously delved into hallowed ground for his interpretations
of music by Radiohead and Elliott Smith with acclaimed success, solo
pianist Christopher ORiley wisely makes a reverent foray into
the discography of the influential yet elusive singer-songwriter Nick
Drake. But Second Grace is more than just a watered-down Nordstroms
compendium of Drakes repertoire. ORileys adaptations
simultaneously remain faithful to the intent of the original pieces
while also bending to suit the contours of the piano and its player.
All of the 14 tracks here, culled from Drakes holy trinity plus
the posthumously-released codas, are treated with a ginger and delicate
veneration, as are the ample and analytical liner notes explicating
each tune. ORileys renditions somehow manage to wordlessly
summon the spirit of Drakes voice into the room with all of its
nuances: fragile, feeble, humble, haunting, shy, spare, lilting, uplifting.
Even though these songs are not verbatim replications of Drakes
work sans lyrics, one still cannot help but compare the offspring to
their predecessors. (And indeed, those unfamiliar with the Nick Drake
catalogue will do themselves a disservicenot to mention a sleight
to both artistsby beginning with ORiley without having done
their homework.) Rider on the Wheel is like a folksy springtime
stroll, and Fly a reflective hammock respite. Hanging
on a Star remains both tenuous and effervescent as it mimics the
long, warbling eek of Drakes first high note and then tumbles
into a fluttering trill. ORiley accurately describes Harvest
Breed as the falling of a leaf, and he tucks it into
the body of his own album like a master of scrapbooking. Joey
succeeds because it takes its time to allow a kind of narrative to unfold,
much like the lyric version. And From the Morning is undeniably
the perfect ending to both ORileys and Drakes albums,
lingering and reverberating into the future like the proverbial Walt
Whitman under your bootsoles at the prophetic end of the poem Song
of Myself.
One thing that does get lost in the translation on Second Grace,
regrettably, is Nick Drakes angst and depression. ORileys
Parasite loses the sense of self-deprecation by leaning
generously on major-scale tones; and the loneliness on Drakes
Place to Be defies duplication. Also, tinkering with the
tempo undermines the spirit of the original in some spots; for example,
ORileys Pink Moon is a hint too zealous, while
slowing down One of These Things First sacrifices Drakes
jazzy playfulness. However, the pendulum swings the other way, too:
ORileys dramatic ending to Three Hours outshines
the ambling conclusion to Drakes wayfarer tune; also, ORileys
Bryter Layter medley and his Northern Sky tribute
both sound more focused and forceful than their carefree, campfire counterparts.
Overall, the pianist blends together an eclectic sampling into a seamless
whole, and does true justice to this legendary folk troubadour.
--Mark Cabasino