When the Nebraska-born, Texas-bred singer/songwriter Elliott Smith died in 2003 at age 34, he left behind a rich legacy of strikingly original, darkly evocative songwriting. Each of his albums, right up to the posthumously released From A Basement On The Hill, exhibited progressive development as a composer and lyricist, evoking comparisons to Simon and Garfunkel, Jackson Browne, Nick Drake and even the Beatles. Smith’s skewed, mildly dissonant yet achingly poignant sense of melody turns out to be perfect for the piano, especially in Christopher O’ Riley’s intuitive, sympathetic yet fiery hands. That he was able to capture the manic highs and subterranean lows of Smith’s emotional landscape, sans lyrics, is nothing short of miraculous. O’Riley’s touch is moody but also remarkably unsentimental; he is well aware that deep truths should be allowed to speak for themselves. Ultimately, the pieces on this album, drawn from various periods in Smith’s output, are presented as tone-poems in miniature. His music is revealed as assertively American, infectious yet elusive, with inchoate quotes from Heartland folklore dancing somewhere just beyond the listener’s memory.