DeJohnette assembled a group of players who listen as carefully as they play.
Jack DeJohnette brought together Jerome Harris, Don Alias, and Michael Cain for Oneness (1997), and the result is a record that feels like four musicians genuinely trying to hear each other. DeJohnette's drumming sits in the pocket here rather than dominating — he's responding to what's happening around him. Harris handles both bass and guitar, which gives the group a harmonic flexibility that most quartets don't have. Alias brings textural percussion that never clutters the space, and Cain's piano playing is direct and conversational rather than showy. The album doesn't announce itself or demand your attention. It just plays.
This sits in the middle stretch of DeJohnette's career, after he'd established himself as both a bandleader and a sideman willing to work in many contexts. If you know his funkier fusion records or his earlier work, this might seem quieter, more deliberate. That's accurate. Oneness doesn't try to swing hard or prove anything. Instead, it creates the feeling of a session where everyone showed up prepared but willing to abandon the plan if something better presented itself. The interplay between Harris's dual instruments and Cain's responses to the rhythm section is where the record earns your attention.
Is this essential? Not for someone just discovering DeJohnette — start with something more immediate. But for anyone already interested in how he thinks about rhythm and space, this record reveals something real. It's a solid session with four players who understood what the others wanted to do. That's enough.