Arriving on the heels of their critically acclaimed collaboration Jin Jin / Firefly, this second release from Japanese folk master Takashi Hirayasu and Hawaiian steel-guitar guru Bob Brozman is an absolute delight for the ears. This wonderful disc works on many levels, offering both immediate hooks and deeply buried emotions. The combination of traditional Asian instruments with those usually found in Western music gives the album a sound that is both familiar and alien, like hearing your favorite song filtered through the fanciful distortion of a dream. Because of the unusual influences, the album works as an introduction to musical traditions outside of many people's ken -- but in the end, it's the beautiful music that will make you return to Nankuru Naisa again and again.

This disc's opening number, "Jidai No Nagere", begins with a hip-hop influenced drumbeat, instantly creating a fetching, head-bobbing rhythm. This is joined by double bass and Brozman's guitar, which provide an additional pulse to the song. Finally, Hirayasu's sanshin -- which when surrounded by the other Western instruments sounds like an oddly tuned banjo -- and lilting vocals enter. Like all of the vocals on the disc, these lyrics are in Japanese (or at least what I assume is Japanese; I was a German major and must plead ignorance). Nevertheless, the words' emotions carry through, imparting a respectful sorrow. After reading the track's dedication to the recently departed Rinsho Kadekaru, one of Okinawa's premier singers, this sadness resolves itself into an understandable and moving tribute. This opening track presents all of the joyous possibilities in the duo's pairing. While they introduce new styles to listeners on both sides of the Pacific, they also, and more importantly, illustrate the universality of music. The complex emotions of a eulogy to an honored teacher and friend manages to convey itself in a deep and subtle way, regardless of the dialect. This is a powerful example of the way in which music can touch humans and bring them together. Similar feelings are conveyed through the touching ode "Haha No Uta" (translated, "Song For Mother"). The gentle caress of Hirayasu's voice and Brozman's steel guitar convey all the loving and longing that goes into this song for a mother separated by miles of ocean.

These tracks' emotional weight should not lead you to believe that everything here is burdened by want. Many of the songs display a rich sense of humor. The waltzing title track (translated as "Take It Easy") is a guileless romp, but for me, the song that epitomized the pair's humor is "Koza No Machi". With its swinging guitar, considerate steel guitar swoops and sunny vocals, this track sounds like Don Ho via Okinawa. While the track's pleasant disposition alone is enough to put you in a good mood, it reaches hilarious heights once you've read the lyrics. "She was so sexy, aged 24 or 25 / I was a naughty boy, aged seventeen or eighteen", the innocent tale begins. One day, however, while watching the object of his affection from afar, the boy is horrified to watch her sell herself to American GIs. The symbolism works beautifully as the naive melody shields a sordid story, much like a dark secret lies at the heart of the singer's youthful tale. While this may not seem funny to you, it reminds me of an incident that occurred at my first job. I was working as an assistant cook in a Chinese restaurant with a cook named Fi. As we cooked, Fi taught me a song from his homeland. I learned the soft, flowing melody phonetically and would earnestly sing it as I chopped barrels of broccoli. One day I asked Fi what the words meant. In his typically gruff fashion, he replied, "Man work on ship for many years. Go to shore. Meet girl. Get disease." "Koza No Machi" makes me giggle aloud with this fond recollection.

Given its Pacific influences, this disc can easily provide music for a theme party; however, the skill of the playing and the emotional heft of the songs makes Nankurua Naisa a wonderful album, with uses far beyond background music at your next cookout.