Adam Torres @ The Hug and Pint, Glasgow, 17 Aug

In folk circles, Adam Torres was a mythical figure until he resurfaced with new music last year. His whirlwind 2005 debut, Nostra Nova, has become one of the word-of-mouth successes of the folk scene in the last decade. It’s clear why. From his distinct, piercing voice to the earthy, wide-screen instrumentation, the album stunned. Torres was a musician with a slow-burning classic already under his belt. And then he vanished. 

In that time, everything about the indie music industry has changed – not that Torres has ever felt part of an 'industry'. His music feels closer to hearing the wind through a canyon or a campfire lullaby than it does a studio-made product. There’s a rawness and purity to his early songs that’s stuck with him into his new projects, last year’s Pearls to Swine and this year’s I Came to Sing the Song, an EP dedicated to the process of songwriting. Tonight’s performance is made up of this new material, and it remains a wholly captivating, moving set. 

Torres is supported by Texan royalty Thor Harris on percussion and unsung hero Aisha Burns on violin. Their backing adds vibrancy and heft to Torres' winding songs. Harris’ drumming is propulsive and diverse, switching between bongos, a full kit and hammered dulcimer thoughout – sometimes in the space of a single song. Burns brings a counterpoint for Torres to slink around, but more importantly, her fluid playing brings a lightness to the ethereal mood they conjure together. Most of these tracks are anchored by dexterous guitar playing and a ghostly falsetto, ambiguous in emotion. Melancholic? Hopeful? Scared? Possessed? Even in person, Torres holds his cards close to his chest. The unique quality of his voice gives much of this material a spectral mood. 

The set is most impressive when the trio's styles blur together. On Some Beast Will Find You by Name, Torres' voice is swallowed up by guitar arpeggios, wailing violin, eerie dulcimer and a thick kick drum. The separate parts form into a gorgeous swell of airy textures. Still, Torres is just as captivating alone with his guitar. He’s a storyteller at heart, and songs like Green Mountain Road don’t need anything but a melody and a sturdy guitar part to be felt. His new material leans more towards sparsity and shadows than the towering compositions on Nostra Nova. Even when there’s a lot going on in a song, like on Outlands, Torres keeps the arrangement pared-down; each moment is weighty and essential. It’s like Torres never left.