As human beings we tend to take the very notion of presence for granted, be it the presence of a loved one in our lives, the presence manufactured by our own actions as we present ourselves to the world, or the presence of all that comes and goes in our daily existence. For some reason these things just rarely factor into the way we think from moment to moment. But they should.

Those multiple dimensions of meaning in the word presence have all folded upon one another in trombonist John Yao's third album to date. The loss of a close friend, the growth of an artistic voice, and the little moments that add up to bigger things are all cataloged in Yao's intriguing compositions. There are wistful passages that offer up reflective thoughts for those on both sides of the performer-listener divide, dynamic expressions of strength and motion powered by emotional undertows both light and dark in nature, and full-on embraces of what is, what was, and what may come to pass.

After presenting a super-sized sophomore date—the big band-focused Flip-Flop (See Tao Recordings, 2015)—Yao now returns to the quintet format which served him so well on his maiden voyage. By downsizing and moving back to a party of five, he automatically creates greater flexibility and opportunities for all involved while clearly charting his own growth as the leader of a small band. That first flight—In The Now (Innova Recordings, 2012)—was an impressive debut, but this is a clear cut above. Yao's voice on trombone has become considerably stronger and more fluid over the intervening years, his rapport with saxophonist