When the extremely different styles of the two musicians met, a detonation was unmistakable. After the smoke cleared, all that could be seen was a deep hole, at the bottom of which the essence was as heavy as lead. No grass is growing on the rim of the crater yet. There was no fusion. It sounds familiar, but the contrasts have remained.
At first you feel carried by the harmonies, in safekeeping, until you realize that the bittersweet melodies were taken deep from the cellar of the soul. And that the trivial disorder is only the first sign.