Poi Dog Pondering has put down headquarters in three geographical locations — Hawaii, Austin, and Chicago — and has gone through a rather larger number of members. 7, which is in fact the collective’s seventh album, amalgamates the moves and switches: It not only features members from the band’s various eras, but also covers almost every musical style and vibe Poi Dog has explored.
This inclusiveness comes about more by happenstance than by design. Frank Orrall, the collective’s primary songwriter and singer, is just enough of a bandleader to keep an eleven-member unit moving in the same direction, but his attitude is so easygoing that even his thin voice sounds constantly rounded by a smile.
While that mellowness keeps most of 7 at a simmer instead of a boil, it also allows Poi Dog to visit new permutations on old approaches: tropical-breeze folk (“Perfect Music”), loose-limbed ensemble rock (“Lemon Drop Man”), natural-high acoustic psychedelia (“Space Dust”), and absolutely earnest disco (“Baby Together”).
As a larger Poi Dog quality, earnestness creates moments of embarrassment — in “From This Moment On” and “Super Tarana”, Orrall gets sexual without quite getting sexy. Yet it also leads to passages of ardent beauty, such as the extended, reeling coda of the haplessly romantic “Butterflies”, or any extended spotlight given to violinist Susan Voelz.
For all the changes of two decades, Poi Dog Pondering holds onto a constant, wide-eyed sense of artistic curiosity and discovery. On 7, looking back and moving forward, the band remains open-hearted and open-minded.
