Like chocolate for peanut butter

For Sacramento duo ElectroPoetic Coffee, mixing live music with poetry isn’t just a melding of two worlds, it’s a different way of jamming. Ross Hammond, who plays jazz guitar and electronics, fuels NSAA the Black Root—a.k.a. Lawrence E. Dinkins Jr.—who reads poetry and sometimes sings. In turn, Dinkins’ poetry feeds the energy of Hammond’s music.

“It feels almost like surfing, like I’m riding his waves of music,” Dinkins explains. “It’s interesting how the interchange gives meaning to one another. When you say that a picture is worth a thousand words, how many words does sound have? It compounds the words. When you put them together, it’s a you-put-the-chocolate-in-the-peanut-butter kind of thing.”

Separately, both are accomplished artists. Hammond has played guitar—usually of the avant-garde variety—for 20 years, and in 2008, founded the In the Flow Festival, which highlights jazz, poetry and art. Dinkins has written poetry for five years; his accomplishments include the 2009 spoken-word CD, Lightning in a Bottle: The Official Mario Ellis Hill Recordings, and the 2010 book of poetry, Sub-American.

Their work together exudes a high level of emotionality and vibrancy—even though Dinkins’ poems are already written and Hammond’s avant-jazz parts are already worked out. Where the spontaneity comes in is in the subtle differences of how Dinkins delivers his poems and the nuances of Hammond’s guitar playing.

“The cadence of my poems can change, which changes the emotions of it. It definitely heightens it. It’s almost unbearable,” Dinkins says. “Sometimes, when we finish a gig, I can’t really talk to anyone afterword. I have to go walk somewhere, because the emotion is so built up.”

Such heightened feelings have been a major component for ElectroPoetic Coffee from the start. The first time Dinkins and Hammond performed together was at a 2009 memorial performance at the Javalounge cafe for a mutual friend, In the Flow co-founder Byron Blackburn, who’d recently died from complications from cancer.

Then, Hammond and Dinkins knew of each other but weren’t yet friends. As Hammond and some other musicians jammed, they noticed Dinkins writing a poem and invited him onstage, and he read about Blackburn as Hammond and Co. continued to play.

“It was really intense. It was one of my favorite moments musically. … It just felt like a really important thing I was involved with at that moment,” Hammond says.

Hammond and Dinkins played together again a few months later at a poetry event; this time it was just the two of them and, they both say, instantly felt the chemistry. Another few months passed, and the pair recorded some pieces for what eventually became their 2010 self-titled debut. As ElectroPoetic Coffee evolved into an official project, both say it became clear that they were kindred spirits, artistically speaking.

“The aesthetics of what we do might be different, but, overall, the message is basically the same. We are both progressive, sensitive, romantic people,” Hammond says.

Because Dinkins expresses himself in words, Hammond says he has a particular appreciation for the different topics and emotions his partner vocalizes—aspects Hammond says he’s only been able to voice with his guitar.

“Everyone can relate to what Lawrence writes about,” Hammond says.

Dinkins sees all his poems—whether personal ones such as “Fallen Leaves,” which talks about what he went through when after his father’s passing, or political ones, such as “Catastrophe,” which discusses the effects of society’s complacency—as closely linked.

“I think [the poems] agree with each other, but have different personalities.” Dinkins says.

Combined with Hammond’s nuanced guitar playing, the poems have a power that makes them impossible to ignore—a more emotionally rattling and engaging experience than a typical poetry reading, yet not like watching a band play songs, either.

“In a way, we come together and bridge the gap between the poetry scene and the music scene,” says Hammond.