The small hand- held dictionary in my office defines the word exploration as a "search through with the view of making discovery." Although defining exploration may be that simple, judging the success of an exploration is quite another matter. Coronado was the first European to see the Grand Canyon, though he never found the fabled Seven Cities of Gold for which he was searching. Likewise, Ponce de Leon rambled through Florida chasing the mythical Fountain of Youth, only to discover humidity and Disneyworld.

While both of these men and their contemporaries likely considered their explorations to be failures, the generations of travelers who have enjoyed the Canyon and the generations of Jews who have grown old and retired to Florida would probably disagree. Similarly, an old girlfriend of mine liked to explore, and though some of our searches for lurid ecstasy still haunt me to this day, others led to shame, recrimination and even minor surgery.

Banyan is defined by their label's website as "a six- piece musical exploration" and as we all know, all great albums are marked by an exploration of the sonic envelope. Unfortunately, Banyan's experimentation is more wandering than exploratory and Any Time at All is as much an oddity as it is an odyssey. Featuring Stephen Perkins of Jane's Addiction, friend of the Grateful Dead Rob Wasserman, a horn section borrowed from Snoop Doggy Dog and guest performances by Mike Watt, John Frusciante, and Flea, Banyan can only described as lab- test new- age jazz pop. Though this journey may sound interesting (and believe me, if nothing else, the album sounds interesting), it has no focus whatsoever.

Most songs here meander back and forth from striking horn- driven jazz to an airy new- age vibe, with guitar play occasionally slashing into the mix. It all begins auspiciously enough with the porno soundtrack, fuck-funk intro of "Buzzards and Worms," but by the time all fifteen muddled minutes of "The Apple and the Seed" are survived, Any Time at All is nails across a blackboard. And although it's dotted with sporadic moments of brilliance (Dave Aaron's clarinet comes to mind), these flashes are the album's supreme frustration as the band's spirit of adventure leaves for the next soundscape before developing the last.

As in the case of our friends Coronado and deLeon, posterity will ultimately judge the success of this exploration. But without Webster's "view of making discovery;" that definable theme that binds the album's loose ends, Any Time at All is a failure, albeit a grand one.

-Neil Lieberman