Rather than vainly attempting to describe how Frisell crosses musical boundaries from song to song and note to note, I define the album by the times in which it dwells most successfully.
Every album possesses a time of day for which it is a perfect match.
In this more fitting sense, Good Dog, Happy Man is most certainly a Sunday morning album. Throughout the album, Frisell and his bandmates, Wayne Horvitz, Viktor Krauss and Jim Keltner, manage a precarious existence, remaining compelling without taking the first step towards bothersome- as much a nod to Frisell's composing prowess as to his playing, for it is here that he shines most brightly. Unlike many guitarists, Frisell works under the notion that notes are scarce, and that belief, along with the album's somewhat shy demeanor, dims the spotlight that would otherwise shine on his playing. The primary beneficiaries of Frisell's ethic are his songs, which shimmer with life even at their faintest. He deftly navigates an expansive creative field with an ostensible sense of ease that provides the album's therapeutic qualities.