Samite, who hails from the East African nation of Uganda, is that rare multi-instrumentalist can make a flute weep or a simple thumb piano spout epic poetry. As a composer, his works range from spacious idylls to polyrhythmic, dance-inducing charmers. His clear tenor voice, with its soaring falsetto, has the kind of poignant beauty and artful tenderness that made international icons of Milton Nascimento and Vusi Mahlesela. His life has not been easy; he lost a brother under Idi Amin, endured a prolonged exile from his homeland, and is now dealing with the premature passing of his beloved wife, Joan. His reaction, as always, is to sing about his feelings, but while some of the present material is elegiac, it is not so light-textured as on earlier releases. Instead, Samite veers between avowals of longing and resignation, observations about the necessities of life, and even unexpected, healing flashes of humor. --Christina Roden