Album review: 'Sixty Six Steps' September 14, 2005- Associated Press By Brett Gladstone Album Review - Sixty Six Steps In October 2002, guitar virtuoso Leo Kottke and erstwhile Phish bassist/all purpose bomb-dropper Mike Gordon paired up for the whimsical, offbeat collaboration "Clone" after Gordon, a longtime fan, played Kottke a short tape of a bassline he had laid over one of his originals. Gordon's open-eared approach outlined Kottke's play with new spontaneity, and Kottke found innovative ways to unlock Gordon's rock-solid foundations. As opposed to clutter, the busy quality inherent in both parties' play gave way to a cozy, interwoven intricacy. The same dynamic chemistry finds even fuller expression in the band's second attempt, "Sixty Six Steps." The two are still comfortably rooted on the back porch, though now in a different latitude. Kottke's masterful fingerpicking is all momentum, possibility, and self-assurance, interlocking with Gordon's airtight groove orientation to flesh out propulsive island rhythms. Most are anchored by the precise minimalism of renowned Nassau session drummer Neil Symonette, who provides a subtle framework for a record that infuses the duo's dusty instrumentals with a buoyant shot of Bahamian breeze. The most overtly reluctant participant in Phish's dissolution, Gordon has been the most successful in transposing the best facets of Phish's ethos - particularly the capacity for synchronously independent jamming - onto his ensuing collaborations. Here, his basslines act less as scaffolding than as assuring pulses around which Kottke's play crackles and whirls, texturing and expanding into propulsive jaunts. What makes the collaboration tick, however, is how Gordon and Kottke provoke and frame each other's personalities. The Gordon original "Stolen Quiet" is a wryly passive-aggressive post-breakup pot shot (no pun intended), filtering "Positively Fourth Street" through the lens of an amiable stoner with a predilection for Wes Anderson. "I can't thank you enough for departing" Gordon whispers blithely. "The sheer amount of surface space increased around here, with your diet soda gone there's more room for my beer." Kottke veers similarly toward his roots. "From Spink to Correctionville" emerges as a loping jailhouse lament of an instrumental, a haze of sunset hangings, dusty cells and key-toting canines recalling the beleaguered country-blues standards that first drew Kottke to the guitar, gems which now rest comfortably amid the myriad of folk, rock, jazz and bluegrass textures that inform his play. In the meantime, the duo throws in a mixed bag of covers, the best of which comes in the unexpected form of a countrified, deadpan take on Aerosmith's "Sweet Emotion," with irreverent fills bouncing playfully within the pop of Gordon's slackened bass. Fleetwood Mac's "Oh Well" darkens the album with a light dose of venom, pairing Kottke's cheeky riffs with his gruff delivery. Ultimately, all the nuances of the collaboration - the matching poker-faced deliveries, the intimate sonic lens, the child's-eye songwriting - bring Kottke and Gordon's humility and craft into sharper focus as this pleasant little album's bedrock. "With a happy tune," Kottke growls in "Rings," "anyone can be a singer." Review © 2005 Associated Press