Daylight Ghosts is one of the most evocative and tantalising titles in recent memory, but, more to the point, it stands as a meaningful cousin to Taborn's release Avenging Angel. Whether a comment on an increasingly dehumanised world or a cryptic claim that spirits, perhaps both good and evil, move among us when the sun is up rather than down, there is an intellectual and emotional substance in the pianist's use of language that matches the creative core of his music. As has been the case since his emergence in the early 1990s, Taborn has a strong interest in group chemistry and Daylight Ghosts is an ensemble offering in the true sense of the term. In most songs it is the overlap and entwining of parts, the polymelodies as much as polyrhythms, that hold the attention, with head-solo-head strategies largely eschewed. Furthermore, Taborn excels at conjuring ambiences where chords don't so much shift as melt in and out of focus, and the vapor trails of electronics and icy slivers of acoustic piano of ‘The Great Silence’ make for one of the finest soundscape pieces in his songbook to date. However, the carefully considered breathing space afforded these disparate elements and Taborn's ability to blur the line between organic and synthetic timbres so that contemporary technology does not feel at all like a bolted-on element in the arrangements is no less impressive. Sprightly non-western rhythms, fluid time and bluesy backbeats simply enhance this beguiling hypnosis. Taborn's compositional voice is one of distinction, capturing the chill winds that blow over the world today in shadowy laments and juddering grooves, anthems for the anxiety felt by those who see (more) trouble ahead. Or maybe he has written great songs of solace for people in sorrow.