Lionel Loueke & Dave Holland: United

Why did they not think of this before? A fair question. But as the Greek poet Homer put it, even a fool is wise after the event. "Why did you not think of it before?," Homer might have retorted. Yes, the music on United is so sublime, so natural sounding, that guitarist Lionel Loueke and bassist Dave Holland seem like old duo soulmates. The truth, however, is different. While the pair have played together in various settings, they had never performed as a duo—until an impromptu jam during a soundcheck. Happily, they clicked musically, and a seed was sewn. United is the very tasty fruit of their encounter.

One might call such a coming together happenstance, but you could put it down instead to a shared openness to fresh horizons. The two have a fair bit in common. Both left their homelands in search of new opportunities: After several international pit stops Benin-born Loueke settled in Luxembourg; Holland swapped his native England for the USA decades ago. Throughout their careers both musicians have sought out new challenges and alliances. Playing it safe simply is in neither man's vocabulary.

Holland is a seasoned veteran when it comes to this most intimate of formats. In the early to mid-'70s he played in duos with the likes of Barre Phillips, Sam Rivers and Derek Bailey. Later duo collaborations saw Holland team up with Steve Coleman, Pepe Habichuela and Kenny Barron. Loueke, by contrast, has a less extensive duo résumé, though he has cultivated a rewarding partnership with singer Gretchen Parlato.

But it is Loueke who leads from the front on these 11 songs, albeit just by a nose, to borrow from horse-racing parlance. He wrote all the music, with the exception of Wayne Shorter's "United." His singing, a Xhosa-inspired personalized scatting mixture punctuated by his trademark percussive tongue-clucking and staccato panting, colors every song bar the boppish title track. At times additional vocal tracking produces a smooth choral texture, as on the dancing, bop-infused "Yaoundé" and the gently lilting "Stranger In A Mirror," the latter which harbors a terrific example of Loueke's hybrid West African-cum-jazz guitar lines.

All of which is not to suggest that Holland takes a back seat; On the contrary, the bassist is busy indeed, toggling with impeccable logic between keen contrapuntal forays, deft harmonic coloring and unison lines. His brilliance also shines on a handful of wonderful solos, and few can forge bass ostinatos as powerfully as Holland. Killer bass riffs on the desert jazz-funk that is "Celebration" and on the delightfully grooving "Hideaway" offer definitive proof of that.

There is no doubt that there is strength, and beauty, in unity. This album speaks eloquently to that truth. Loueke and Holland share another connection; Both have played with Herbie Hancock, albeit thirty years apart. Loueke has already crafted an excellent solo tribute to the keyboard maestro on HH (Edition Records, 2020). But think how good it would be if Loueke and Holland were to reunite on a duo album of Hancock's music. Chew on that foresight, Homer.