The vast experience that Takase and Murray have as duet players is heard from the opening bars of the lengthy title track. It is a heavenly melody invested with an emotional depth to match technical mastery, as the long, langoruous tones ease into life like breath itself before gliding gently through the changes with great poise. To the credit of both performers there is very little superfluous activity on this and other pieces in the set, and the moments in which the duo breaks to a solo horn from Murray or solo piano from Takase do not fall prey to hyperbole in the face of solitude. Murray has a sensitivity as an accompanist that belies his reputation as a fearsome one-man whirlwind, and while he does launch some turbulent flights of fancy, which are duly matched by Takase's equally fiery comping, this is a deeply reflective album, pitched between sunlit romanticism and sombre melancholia. At times the spirit of Fats Waller's ‘Jitterbug Waltz’, recast as a corps in four rather than three, pervades the music, while at others the power of gospel, expertly nuanced by the players, illuminates the themes, none more so than the majestic ‘A Long March To Freedom’. It feels very much of yesterday and today.