With unbelievable dexterity and aplomb, Nels Cline, best known as Wilco’s adventurous guitarist, renders his instrument a living organism capable of crying, singing and laughing with joy. In this acoustic partnership with blooming jazz guitarist Julian Lage (Gary Burton, Eric Harland), the dual technical mastery stunningly drifts through jazz, folk, country and rock applications, with melodic space and gutsy improvisational moments scattered throughout. “Abstract 12” sounds like something Leo Kottke would produce if he had four hands, while “The Scent of Light” scampers along a cliff’s edge of stylistic risk-taking—never falling short in daring—while blurring the lines between jazz, folk and Morricone-esque soundtrack imagery. For all of the deft playing, what stands out is the space, concepts, openness and allegorical distance that each man is afforded. This creates landscapes wildly more expansive than seem possible from any two other guitarists—especially plucking away acoustically. Both men shred, but on Room, restraint breeds greatness.