#poor isa

But that doesn’t mean that their record was destined to sound like this. It would be possible to get through much of Let’s Drink the Sea and Dance without noticing that banjos were involved. For a start, both musicians are credited with woodblocks and voice in addition to banjo. The rasping, sustained sounds and stately cadence of “The Sun at Two” are more like some private ceremony overheard from within some temple in Kyoto than anything played on an Appalachian porch or Flemish jazz club. On “Oceanfuls” and “Seagarden,” sparse wooden reports further the ritual Japanese vibe, but sustained sounds that might issue from a portative organ (although none is credited) suggest the service might be taking place much closer to the musicians’ neck of the woods.  

While the geographical and stylistic references change from tune to tune, the entire album sustains a contemplative mood. This places the duo’s music at odds with the work of other experimental banjoists. Eugene Chadbourne mixes roots moves with post-Derek Baily agitation; your typical Paul Metzger raga sounds like it’s being driven by an Apollo rocket lift-off module. These guys make music that’s apt for a slow walking meditation, and acknowledge their jazz associations by including sounds that just might come from someone applying brushes to the skin covering his banjo’s frame. Unfamiliar and non-aggressive, this is a record to ponder and appreciate for its singularity.