The music seems to be making a full circle. What started in Africa and came to the American plantations eventually returned to its original roots, only to return back here via emissaries like Cameroonian Richard Bona and Gino Sitson, and most noticeably in Benin guitarist Lionel Loueke. Loueke, whose intriguing raindrop-like guitar playing had been featured prominently on Terence Blanchard’s seminal discs “Bounce” and “Flow”, has also made a name for himself by touring and recording with Herbie Hancock the past few years. Most intriguingly is his recent foray into solo recording. Last years “Virgin Forest (ObliqSound) was a surprise winner, but it only hints at the musical meeting of two continents featured on his most recent release “Karibu” (Blue Note) which includes his regular working trio (Massimo Biolcati/bass and Ferenc Nemeth/drums) with guest appearances by employer Hancock and Wayne Shorter.
Loueke, presently living in New Jersey, laughs at the realization the Swahili title of his disc is not that his native language. “The reason is that I was doing a tour in Kenya,” he explains, “and “Karibou” is a word meaning a lot of things there. I’d here it many times of the day. It can mean “Welcome,” or “Cheers”. And you don’t want to use the same kind of word in (my language) “Fon” which is “Miquabu”; it’s a bit too complex for people to say.”
It has been quite a circuitous trip for Loueke to make it all the way from Francophone Benin to English speaking America, but this land has always been his destination. “I would have preferred to directly come to the States, but I had a language barrier. It was easier to go to Paris. I knew I would be coming here, but I had to go through the transition (to learn English).”
Coming straight from the horn of Africa to a big city like Paris was understandably quite a jolt to Loueke. He recalls, “It was a big culture shock in many ways. Once I got to Paris, I could go to a music school, which was not in my country. I could go into a music store, and could buy some cds and books, and have answers to all of my questions. Also, the cold weather; I was shocked for sure.”
“The other aspect is that where I come from in Africa, you’re used to family and friends. You go to parties, people’s houses; you just call on them and visit them there. In Paris, nobody really cares about you. I remember the first day I had an audition for my school. My brother met me up from the airport, and he said, “OK. Here’s the subway. You go down there and take a map.” I said, “What?” So, there I was, trying to go to the school, and nobody was friendly or trying to help me. Everybody was in a hurry, and they didn’t want to talk.”
Once in Paris, though, Loueke was able to actually see the music performed live that he had only heard on cds while living back home. He vividly remembers his initiation into live jazz, “The first one was Duc de Lombards. It is a well known club, and one of the biggest. I went there the first night I arrived in Paris, because I had heard so much about it. I went to listen to Philip Catherine, from Belgium. I was shocked, actually, because I realized that I could not play in Paris because my level was too low, I was not musically ready for what was going on, and I needed to practice. I was definitely shocked by the way he was playing. By the fifth time I saw him, I realized that that was what I wanted to be and wanted to do.”
After leaving Paris for America, Loueke finally reached his musical destination, which lead him to Berklee, and the Monk Institute. From there came his first tour as a bona-fide jazz musician with Terence Blanchard’s band. Loueke relates that “the first tour was with the Jazz Blues Alley. I was nervous. I was in school when I was playing with Terence. It was the first time I was touring as a jazz musician. I was at the Monk Institute. I was playing with musicians there, but it was not like going around with a suitcase and waking up at five, going to the next city and playing. It was a great learning process.”
From there, he was able to go to the ultimate level of education, playing and touring with Herbie Hancock. “The first time I played with Herbie was in Italy,” he states. “He wrote for me to play in a concert. He had me play with Wallace Roney and some other guests. I was very nervous! He made me feel very comfortable, and he welcomed me in the best way ever. I’ve been with him for five years now.”
“I’ve learned so much from him; The way he directs the band. The way he shifts the band. Some nights somebody is playing bad. Sometimes the night is not yours; you play and you do your best, but you feel like you’re not doing that good. But, Herbie has the knowledge to hear that, and to direct the attention to who is in good shape and playing well that night. For me, that’s the sign for me that Herbie is a powerful leader. His ability to react like that. The other thing I learned from Herbie is what I also learned from Terence (Blanchard). They don’t hire you to tell you how to play. They hire you to let you do your thing. I remember the first time I was playing with Herbie, and I called him, “Master, can you tell me what I have to do. What do I have to count?” He’d always say, “No, man. You’re fine!” He just let you do it. If he wanted you to do something, you just have to listen carefully on what’s going on, and you’ll understand. He told me that he learned that from Miles. He trusts you, and let’s you do your thing.”
Loueke has used these lessons in leading his own trio, which is coming to the Bakery to promote “Karibu”. The concepts of fellowship and camaraderie between musical artists that he has learned from his African upbringing, and inculcated by Hancock’s allowing each artist to create his own voice, have made Loueke’s band on the cusp of making some major musical statements. As the proverb states, “A chord of three strands is not easily broken.” Loueke confirms this belief, stating, “Ferenc and Massimo I’ve been with for about 8 years. I met them in Boston. I met them at Berklee, and we also went to the Monk Institute. We play a lot together, and check out a lot of music together. I like both of their playing. Ferenc is from Hungary. He knows all of the gypsy music. I have the African element, but I use the African rhythm with odd meters. We are learning together. I have some idea that I play for them, and we all come up with different things. They learn something, and I learn something. That’s how we work.”
“I pass most of my time with them. Some of my material is very difficult. It doesn’t matter who you are; you have to feel it. And the only way to feel it is to play it more and more. Because we’ve played all this time together, we have this reserve. I’m not only talking about music. We hang a lot together. We lived together for two years.We saw each other every day. We work together every day. We hang, which is for me the other important element besides the music. Get to know people. Once we get out there playing jazz, it’s not simple pop music, so there involves a spiritual aspect you can only get from being with someone. Knowing each other so well makes us all play better.”
Bringing together timeless lessons such as fellowship and mutual trust, and mixing this with forward thinking concepts of rhythm and rhyme, Loueke has taken the music of his African ancestors, and is successfully mingling it with the roots of his American brothers. Only in American could the music taken from people pulled away from their home continent be a drawing force for other musicians from the land of it’s origin. Come see Loueke and his band as they tour the West Coast, and complete the musical circle.