What if 40 minutes of instrumental music made by two friends passing files across state lines could capture the range of human experience, or at least a disproportionate chunk of it—worry and camaraderie, hope and frustration, tenderness and absurdity? That is the question that steadily emerges across the nine tracks of the self-titled debut from Croz Boyce, the duo of two musicians who have made some of the last quarter-century’s most inquisitive music, Dave Portner (Avey Tare) and Brian Weitz (Geologist) of Animal Collective. Buds and collaborators for so long that it seems they can have deep exchanges without a word or, in this case, a shared physical space, Portner and Weitz cry and hug and crack up (good) and crack up (bad) as a pair here. A record of sweet or fretful acoustic strums and electronics that give every scene color and depth, Croz Boyce feels like a celebration of friendship, of the chance to share a lifetime together even if from a distance.