#epistrophy

Content varies from the first album in an absence of originals. The program opens with a gently sauntering essay of an ancient Jerome Kern standard “All in Fun,” with the duo congenially alternating lead and support roles against the occasional peripheral sounds of clinking cocktail glassware. Next, Frisell expresses his abiding affection for Americana in an open-ended medley of “Wildwood Flower” and “Save the Last Dance for Me,” sheathing a stream of strummed chords and single notes in shimmering reverb. Morgan’s stouter strings work as a warm, undulating foil that only furthers the sensory illusion of saddle leather and trail dust. Positioned as the penultimate piece in the set, “Red River Valley” invites additional imaginational associations through figurative sagebrush of floating clusters and harmonics. 

Paul Motian’s “Mumbo Jumbo” is lean and moody by comparison, with the players folding in and circling each other with fat clusters of notes that reflect in sound the concentration of furrowed brows and flexing fingers. Frisell eventually adds computerized loops and the pair steers close to insularity in spots, but it’s still a performance rife with involving interplay. Hoary tunes plucked from the pop realm aren’t off limits either. John Berry’s James Bond theme classic “You Only Live Twice” is almost unrecognizable in its opening minutes wearing the wistful disguise of a pastoral ballad. When the melody does appear, Frisell milks it for a rich run of reverb-marinated variations that suggest something like the late-Dick Dale in blissed out Bedouin attire in sound. The crowd loves it. 

Even a cursory inspection of the “Lush Life” well reveals countless interpretive footprints around its rim, but that doesn’t stop the duo from dipping their instruments in. The results are respectful and avoid rendering rote, but still feel a bit like a crowd-pleasing palate cleansing gesture for the pair of Monk tunes that follow. The title piece is all angles and inversions at first and all the better for it with Frisell getting to the gritty call and response of the tune’s core without stepping on Morgan’s striding, anchoring gait. “Pannonica” trades joviality for tenderness, retaining the rhythmic slipperiness and slant that makes it Monk while sustaining a sense of shared decorum that keeps matters from getting too hairy. “In the Wee Small Hours” works as sendoff, lullaby, and feature for Morgan’s high-on-fingerboard acrobatics, depositing both the musicians and the fortunate Vanguard patrons at a place of relaxed satisfaction by its end.