“Her” represents fractured fragments of Michael James Kaiser's paeans to love. Like his first anthology, “To Be Me,” these introspective poems are tonal invocations to women, both real and imagined. The phrasing and flow quietly touches the reader's heart, sometimes with a whisper and a caress; sometimes with a raw ache. The feelings are fervent, true and universal. Musically it's cello, Spanish guitar, stand-up bass, and a woodwind or two. It would play in a small jazz club against an indigo backdrop with a mood that matches. Yet Michael James
Kaiser — the man and his work — is so uncanny that a UK-based modern country band could just as easily grab a lyrical riff or two and knock out an entire album of Kaiser's heartaches.
Read on.
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