Kamasi Washington likes to go big. The star saxophonist and bandleader's debut album was an aptly titled 3xLP extravaganza The Epic. Follow, HEAVEN and earthit was a little shorter—just two hours this time—but still more ambitious. Fearless Movement, the third full-length with his name on the spine, shows signs of peeling and loosening. Its running time is comparatively 86 minutes. The third track is a Zapp cover. George Clinton pops a few tunes later on a funk jam called “Get Lit.” There are guest verses from a few different rappers, little-known names that bring back the block-party MC energy even as their subject matter turns heady. For the first time, Washington seems interested in conveying not just big emotions like joy, struggle, and transcendence, but something like fun— just as important, no doubt, and perhaps even harder to overcome.
Washington became jazz's most recognizable new face in part because of his belief that great jazz writing is a pressing concern of our time. Although he has collaborated with high-profile musicians outside of jazz — Kendrick Lamar's To Pimp a Butterfly the greatest of them—his own music conveys a populist spirit not through concessions to mainstream style, but large-scale and sheer musical urgency. With their big ensembles, thundering climaxes and marathon tempos, his records present jazz as vital, worth listening to even if you're not a connoisseur.
This heavy importance can stifle playful invention and human temperament, two forces as central to jazz as the compositional ambition and spiritual longing that characterize much of Washington's work. In theory, its relative lightness Fearless Movement it's a natural and welcome next step after the pair of heart-pounding epics. But all too often, tunes that might laugh, bend and enjoy remain weighed down by their own gravity. Fearless MovementIts first half is filled with guest vocalists delivering songs that clumsily attempt to be a soundtrack for both revelry and deep contemplation. The album is at its best when it sheds its loose association with party music, freeing Washington to pursue the heroic high drama that is still his strong suit.
The players, all excellent musicians, are largely drawn from the same crew of friends that fueled Washington's earlier work. Their default mode is full-tilt slicing, which can be exciting and frustrating. Sidekicks tend to nibble on the soloists' heels rather than let them cook, an approach that spurs both sides into greater excitement when it works well: When Brandon Coleman's instrumentals, Dontae Winslow's trumpet on “The Garden Path,” Winslow bobs and weaves as if to avoid his pursuit and Coleman responds by carving even more wildly. But when they're all going so hard all the time, it leaves little room for the surprise of an individual outburst or the sensuality of negative space. There are two drummers playing full kits and several additional percussionists. when one starts to settle into a pocket that can get bodies moving, the other tends to take that as a cue to start with busy fills.
