With his large following and headline status, one might think that saxophonist, bandleader, and composer Kamasi Washington has delivered more than five studio albums. Fearless Movement is his fifth and first in six years. Yet, we’ve learned at least a few things: a) Kamasi consistently takes a large-scale approach, like the others, this is a sprawling project – another 2-LP, ) he is loyal to his bandmates, as the core group of musicians are longtime collaborators, and c) he taps his wide network with high profile guests of hip-hop, R&B, and progressive jazz. Those elements beg the question of what’s different about this project. Washington calls this his ‘dance album,” but that’s not to be taken literally.
Often the movements in the music are subtle as opposed to toe tapping but there is an emphasis on rhythm, still with an immense sound but without the strings and choir that infused his 2018 Heaven and Earth. The birth of his first child, a daughter, and the shutdown of the pandemic gave him time to refocus and turn in a slightly different direction. During this period, he immersed himself in the music of John Coltrane, Eric Dolphy, and Ornette Coleman, sharing that music with his newborn. Some of those strains peek through here, although for the most part, it’s what you’d expect, a mash-up of genres, leaning more earthy than cosmic on this round.
The album opens with an Ethiopian prayer, “Lesanu,” dedicated to a deceased friend. It’s one of the few on Disc One without guests as his core band – Trombonist Ryan Porter, trumpeter Dontae Winslow, keyboardist/organist Brandon Coleman, pianist Cameron Graves, bassist Miles Mosley, and the twin drummers Tony Austin and Ronald Bruner. Jr. support Washington. His dad Rickey Washington joins on flute for three tracks and mainstay vocalist Patrice Quinn is aboard for five. The prayer inevitably evokes the spiritual albums of John Coltrane, especially 1965’s Om, though “Lesanu” swings, is brassier, and is easily more accessible. Graves shines on piano. “Asha The First” is co-written by his daughter, who has the same name. Just shy of two years old, she developed a repetitive melody on the piano, which is the basis of the tune that features Thundercat in one of two appearances on electric bass and Quinn on backing vocals. Once the melody is established, Thundercat takes his turn. Then Kamasi and the ensemble churn out the dense, dizzying sonics followed by an impassioned rap from Taj and Ras Austin, the rap duo, Coast Contra. It’s rather odd to think his daughter is involved in this one which strays into different sections without any tangible cohesion. Still, these kinds of mixes, hip-hop over music that is not a loop, come naturally to Washington. He grew up with it. “G “Computer Love,” somewhere between a ballad and a hymn, is a stirring feature for Quinn, assisted by Coleman on vocoder and DJ Battlecat on talk box.
“Get Lit’ is not about getting high but using the light within us to build up our communities. The legendary George Clinton and rapper D Smoke take the mic on this rouser. Guest Andre 3000 shuns rap and stays true to his recent flute project by playing an array of flutes on one of the strongest tracks, “Dream State,” behind Kamasi’s tenor, creating, together with Graves’ synth, an ethereal, shimmering wall akin to an echo chamber before the flutist engages in vigorous improvised dialogue with the tenorist. The music remains mellow as BJ The Chicago Kid sings on the slow-paced “Together,” a feature of the composer, trombonist Porter. Disc One closer, “The Garden Path,” features a fiery tenor from Kamasi over a web of electronics, a flute from his dad, a heated trumpet from Winslow, and the voices of Quinn and another frequent collaborator, Dwight Tribble.
Like Disc One’s opener, “Interstellar Peace (The Last Stance)” (the title referencing Coltrane’s “Interstellar Space’), plays to a hymn-like chanting vibe over muted electronics, keys, and brass. True to its title, it just floats without any distinct resolution. The lengthy “Road to Self (KO)” is also spatial and meditative, with plenty of keyboard effects underneath the tenor. Graves’ chords are almost metronome-like, keeping the ensemble grounded. Rhythmic, funky grooves emerge in the second half, but the whirling electronics still hold sway. Anyone dancing at this point isn’t moving very fast, instead, they’re likely lost in dreamy thoughts. Clattering percussion, the return of vocalists Quinn and Tribble rouse, and shouting horns lift us up in “Lines in the Sand” as Kamasi launches into explorative realms on his tenor. Graves takes flight, and we’re reminded again that this effort has plenty of expressive jazz. The closing “Prologue” was written by Astor Piazzolla and is infused with Latin percussion fueling jazz-rock fusion, allowing each of the horns to express themselves freely and fiery.
We have two different records. Disc One blurs genres, while impassioned jazz rules Disc Two. As for dancing in the literal sense, those moments come infrequently in this massive (Kamasi knows no other way) project.
