Saxophonist/composer Kevin Sun's 2 CD set, The Depths Of Memory, is said to be more suited to focused listening than to the "convivial distractions of a jazz club." That rings true. From CD 1's opener, "All This Stillness," subdivided into seven sections, the album finds the saxophonist and his bandmates sounding as if they have slipped into a flow. Sun says he wanted the feeling of "being swept along in a current of musical thought over a period of time." Current and flow suggest movement. A river, the wind. This music's forward momentum seems—as with a river—contained by the levees or dense riparian tangles or sandbanks on its borders, but the water (the music) still makes its meandering journey, riding along on the path of least resistance.

But wind wafting down a narrow corridor may, in certain segments, serve as a more accurate metaphor. A dry Santa Ana wind puffing down an old neighborhood alleyway, a dry leaf (Sun's saxophone; or