Pharoah Sanders Music

Mr. Sanders is in very high form during these sets. But what is even more to my liking is the interplay between Sanders and his ensemble. Each knows how to highlight the other's playing while at the same time providing exceptional virtuosity on their respective instruments.

William Henderson's piano lines would sound contrived and mannered played by a lesser musician, however both Mr. Henderson's approach and execution are at once stellar and delicate. The recorded sound of his piano is like fine crystal--a shimmering diffuse light that contrasts markedly to Pharoah's sometimes machinegun like blasts.

Donald Smith adds an other-worldly aspect, and he is in complete harmony with Henderson's lines--each never getting in the way of the other as they play similar instruments.

Sadly, Mr. Thomas is no longer with us. However, for those who've not heard his wonderful voice, this is a good introduction.

What can be said of Pharoah Sanders? His playing is both melodic and dissonant, but within his art he offers something higher--a supreme spirituality, often raw in form, but always breathtaking.

Pharoah Sanders is no doubt a musician who has had a rough time escaping his own legacy. Known for pushing John Coltrane to his most "out" heights and for free/spiritual jazz blowouts of stunning power and ferociousness ("Karma"), Sanders settled down a bit as he got older. Not in terms of his playing, he maintained a fire and energy to that, but in his music. His forms settled down and he began exploring ballads, standards, and the like. The result of this has been a mixture of brilliance and frustration. It seems at times as though Sanders isn't really feeling what he's playing.

Thankfully, his late '80s reunion with vocalist Leon Thomas, who sung on so many of Sanders' early great records, "Oh Lord, Let Me Do No Wrong", is not one of these albums. Sanders is in a sympathetic light, with his backing band supportive and expressive (particularly pianist William S. Henderson III). And Sanders is totally on fire, particularly on the cuts Thomas joins the band-- the reggae-ish title track (where the vocalist and the saxophonist push each other), goofy blues "If It Wasn't For a Woman", and blues standard "Next Time You See". Sanders comes roaring in ways he hadn't in decades upon Thomas' declaration-- "tell 'em about it, Pharoah!". Fierce and explosive, full of fire and nearly unhinged, its something to behold.

Likewise, Sanders seems to find both COltranes "Equinox" and the two standards he picked up ("Polka Dots and Moonbeans" and "Clear Out of This World") particularly inspiring, whether he's full of fire or balladry. He certainly is on a tear on Trane's theme.

Admittedly it's not quite "Karma" or any of those records, but it's certainly a good record. Highly recommended.

I LOVE this release, even more so than Karma and Jewels of Thought. Cecil McBee, Stanley Clarke, Billy Hart, and Norman Connors along with what sounds like an army of African percussionists lay down an amazing groove while while the horns take it in turns to go wild. There are some hornless sections that focus on the Balophone as sort of African marimba. The first time I heard Black Unity, I played it over and over again for three days straight. With the exception of what sounds like some sort of electronic keyboard fading in and out with a droning chord, it's all acoustic. Sanders is amazing. He's doing with his sax, imagination, and circular breathing what Hendrix did with an electric guitar with a battery of electronic gadgets.

If you are a fan of the Impulse label, especially the late 60's and early 70's then Black Unity is essential. The energy is incredible. The only thing I can compare it to in terms of Energy is Miles Davis "It's About That Time, March 7, 1970 Fillmore East".

Dig it!

The thought of Pharoah Sanders being a pharoah? Never accured to many. But he's a pharoah here. A king that can swing. The man with a plan.

This one track has one of the greatest rhythms I've ever heard, just a relentless incredible groove between all the drums percussion and McBee & Clarke's dual bass playing. Pharoah sits out for times, I am sure just listening in awe and wonder to the storm these men produced. I know I often do...

By late 1971, Pharoah Sanders was on a search for new sounds-- his flavor of spiritually infused free jazz had been widely explored over several albums in the previous couple years. Sanders began soaking his music in world rhythms-- eschewing the previous layer of free jazzish percussion in exchange for a more traditionally rooted percussion sound-- with drummers Norman Connors and Billy Hart along with percussionist Lawrence Killian, Sanders was able to develop an almost Afro-Latin vibe. This was further accentuated with the presence of two bassists-- a very young Stanley Clarke (on upright) and journeyman Cecil McBee. Clarke (and Connors) brought with him a deep sense of groove and a working knowledge of r&b and funk musics that helped push Sanders into a groove-oriented direction. The final piece, I suspect, in the evolution of his music was the departure of pianist Lonnie Liston Smith and his prelacement with Joe Bonner-- Smith's voice was far more distinctive, almost as much as Sanders, whereas Bonner provided a different pallete for the horns (in this case, Sanders and Carolos Garnett on tenor and Hannibal Marvin Peterson on trumpet) to work.

So the piece itself-- a 37 minute track-- opens with a dueling bass cadence over percussion before a funky piano riff and balphone drone takes over, setting the stage for something different. The theme is picked up by tenor (Garnett I suspect) and trumpet-- like many of Sanders' themes, there's an undercurrent of a Monk root to the riff. Eventually a brief collective improv gives way to individual solos supported by a neverending array of inventive percussion. The results are something.

As intriguing as it is though, "Black Unity" is lacking in some unknown quantity for me-- it's a great album, but something stops me from thinking of it in the same light I think of Sanders' best.

Of all of Pharoah's albums, this ranks among my favorites. The album consists of a single 37+ minute track of African-inspired percussive grooves and ace free-form jamming by Pharoah and his sidemen. Like much of his late 1960s-early 1970s work, the piece alternates between anarchistic cacaphony and sheer mellow bliss but seems to work as an organic whole a bit more effectively than his other excellent albums of the time. Note the bass-line from "The Creator Has a Master Plan" reprised toward the end of the piece -- nice touch. Definitely well-worth picking up and grooving to for fans of adventurous spiritual jazz, avant-garde jazz, acid jazz, and world music fans who want to explore fusions of world and jazz idioms. World fusion with teeth? Yeah. Dig it.

If you like this, make sure to check out the rest of Pharoah's label mates on Impulse! A shame that the conglomerate that owns the Impulse! label is no longer interested in reissuing the Impulse! back catalog on cd, and is threating to delete those Impulse! gems that are currently in print.

I LOVE this release, even more so than Karma and Jewels of Thought. Cecil McBee, Stanley Clarke, Billy Hart, and Norman Connors along with what sounds like an army of African percussionists lay down an amazing groove while while the horns take it in turns to go wild. There are some hornless sections that focus on the Balophone as sort of African marimba. The first time I heard Black Unity, I played it over and over again for three days straight. With the exception of what sounds like some sort of electronic keyboard fading in and out with a droning chord, it's all acoustic. Sanders is amazing. He's doing with his sax, imagination, and circular breathing what Hendrix did with an electric guitar with a battery of electronic gadgets.

If you are a fan of the Impulse label, especially the late 60's and early 70's then Black Unity is essential. The energy is incredible. The only thing I can compare it to in terms of Energy is Miles Davis "It's About That Time, March 7, 1970 Fillmore East".

Dig it!

The thought of Pharoah Sanders being a pharoah? Never accured to many. But he's a pharoah here. A king that can swing. The man with a plan.

This one track has one of the greatest rhythms I've ever heard, just a relentless incredible groove between all the drums percussion and McBee & Clarke's dual bass playing. Pharoah sits out for times, I am sure just listening in awe and wonder to the storm these men produced. I know I often do...

By late 1971, Pharoah Sanders was on a search for new sounds-- his flavor of spiritually infused free jazz had been widely explored over several albums in the previous couple years. Sanders began soaking his music in world rhythms-- eschewing the previous layer of free jazzish percussion in exchange for a more traditionally rooted percussion sound-- with drummers Norman Connors and Billy Hart along with percussionist Lawrence Killian, Sanders was able to develop an almost Afro-Latin vibe. This was further accentuated with the presence of two bassists-- a very young Stanley Clarke (on upright) and journeyman Cecil McBee. Clarke (and Connors) brought with him a deep sense of groove and a working knowledge of r&b and funk musics that helped push Sanders into a groove-oriented direction. The final piece, I suspect, in the evolution of his music was the departure of pianist Lonnie Liston Smith and his prelacement with Joe Bonner-- Smith's voice was far more distinctive, almost as much as Sanders, whereas Bonner provided a different pallete for the horns (in this case, Sanders and Carolos Garnett on tenor and Hannibal Marvin Peterson on trumpet) to work.

So the piece itself-- a 37 minute track-- opens with a dueling bass cadence over percussion before a funky piano riff and balphone drone takes over, setting the stage for something different. The theme is picked up by tenor (Garnett I suspect) and trumpet-- like many of Sanders' themes, there's an undercurrent of a Monk root to the riff. Eventually a brief collective improv gives way to individual solos supported by a neverending array of inventive percussion. The results are something.

As intriguing as it is though, "Black Unity" is lacking in some unknown quantity for me-- it's a great album, but something stops me from thinking of it in the same light I think of Sanders' best.

Of all of Pharoah's albums, this ranks among my favorites. The album consists of a single 37+ minute track of African-inspired percussive grooves and ace free-form jamming by Pharoah and his sidemen. Like much of his late 1960s-early 1970s work, the piece alternates between anarchistic cacaphony and sheer mellow bliss but seems to work as an organic whole a bit more effectively than his other excellent albums of the time. Note the bass-line from "The Creator Has a Master Plan" reprised toward the end of the piece -- nice touch. Definitely well-worth picking up and grooving to for fans of adventurous spiritual jazz, avant-garde jazz, acid jazz, and world music fans who want to explore fusions of world and jazz idioms. World fusion with teeth? Yeah. Dig it.

If you like this, make sure to check out the rest of Pharoah's label mates on Impulse! A shame that the conglomerate that owns the Impulse! label is no longer interested in reissuing the Impulse! back catalog on cd, and is threating to delete those Impulse! gems that are currently in print.

I LOVE this release, even more so than Karma and Jewels of Thought. Cecil McBee, Stanley Clarke, Billy Hart, and Norman Connors along with what sounds like an army of African percussionists lay down an amazing groove while while the horns take it in turns to go wild. There are some hornless sections that focus on the Balophone as sort of African marimba. The first time I heard Black Unity, I played it over and over again for three days straight. With the exception of what sounds like some sort of electronic keyboard fading in and out with a droning chord, it's all acoustic. Sanders is amazing. He's doing with his sax, imagination, and circular breathing what Hendrix did with an electric guitar with a battery of electronic gadgets.

If you are a fan of the Impulse label, especially the late 60's and early 70's then Black Unity is essential. The energy is incredible. The only thing I can compare it to in terms of Energy is Miles Davis "It's About That Time, March 7, 1970 Fillmore East".

Dig it!

The thought of Pharoah Sanders being a pharoah? Never accured to many. But he's a pharoah here. A king that can swing. The man with a plan.

This one track has one of the greatest rhythms I've ever heard, just a relentless incredible groove between all the drums percussion and McBee & Clarke's dual bass playing. Pharoah sits out for times, I am sure just listening in awe and wonder to the storm these men produced. I know I often do...

By late 1971, Pharoah Sanders was on a search for new sounds-- his flavor of spiritually infused free jazz had been widely explored over several albums in the previous couple years. Sanders began soaking his music in world rhythms-- eschewing the previous layer of free jazzish percussion in exchange for a more traditionally rooted percussion sound-- with drummers Norman Connors and Billy Hart along with percussionist Lawrence Killian, Sanders was able to develop an almost Afro-Latin vibe. This was further accentuated with the presence of two bassists-- a very young Stanley Clarke (on upright) and journeyman Cecil McBee. Clarke (and Connors) brought with him a deep sense of groove and a working knowledge of r&b and funk musics that helped push Sanders into a groove-oriented direction. The final piece, I suspect, in the evolution of his music was the departure of pianist Lonnie Liston Smith and his prelacement with Joe Bonner-- Smith's voice was far more distinctive, almost as much as Sanders, whereas Bonner provided a different pallete for the horns (in this case, Sanders and Carolos Garnett on tenor and Hannibal Marvin Peterson on trumpet) to work.

So the piece itself-- a 37 minute track-- opens with a dueling bass cadence over percussion before a funky piano riff and balphone drone takes over, setting the stage for something different. The theme is picked up by tenor (Garnett I suspect) and trumpet-- like many of Sanders' themes, there's an undercurrent of a Monk root to the riff. Eventually a brief collective improv gives way to individual solos supported by a neverending array of inventive percussion. The results are something.

As intriguing as it is though, "Black Unity" is lacking in some unknown quantity for me-- it's a great album, but something stops me from thinking of it in the same light I think of Sanders' best.

Of all of Pharoah's albums, this ranks among my favorites. The album consists of a single 37+ minute track of African-inspired percussive grooves and ace free-form jamming by Pharoah and his sidemen. Like much of his late 1960s-early 1970s work, the piece alternates between anarchistic cacaphony and sheer mellow bliss but seems to work as an organic whole a bit more effectively than his other excellent albums of the time. Note the bass-line from "The Creator Has a Master Plan" reprised toward the end of the piece -- nice touch. Definitely well-worth picking up and grooving to for fans of adventurous spiritual jazz, avant-garde jazz, acid jazz, and world music fans who want to explore fusions of world and jazz idioms. World fusion with teeth? Yeah. Dig it.

If you like this, make sure to check out the rest of Pharoah's label mates on Impulse! A shame that the conglomerate that owns the Impulse! label is no longer interested in reissuing the Impulse! back catalog on cd, and is threating to delete those Impulse! gems that are currently in print.