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May 07, 2024 Web Exclusive By Kyle Kersey

Kamasi Washington’s greatest triumphs are of ambition.

His Herbie Hancock meets “Duel of the Fates” approach to jazz shuns orthodoxy, prioritizing dramatic storytelling over old-school be-bop and pushing the genre forward in a way that creates crossover appeal for non-jazz fans. In 2015, he rose to prominence with the release of the aptly titled The Epic, a three-hour smorgasbord of jazz’s past, present, and future that displayed Washington’s inventive fusions and performative chops on the saxophone. The same year, he appeared on Kendrick Lamar’s seminal hip-hop masterpiece (some might even call it an “epic”), To Pimp a Butterfly, as part of the jazz collective West Coast Get Down. In 2018, he doubled down on his ambitions with Heaven and Earth, which was somehow even longer than The Epic without feeling strained.

Finally, after nearly six years away, Washington’s returned as a bandleader on Fearless Movement. Running about half as long as his previous two records, it’s his most accessible record yet. However, that doesn’t mean Washington’s sacrificed the sonic eruptions or adventurous spirit that made his music so exciting in the first place.

Washington follows in the great tradition of jazz’s fusionists, mixing elements of hip-hop, p-funk, soul, and even a little electronica into his cauldron. Everything in motion. Nothing static: the blistering piano and sax solos over frantic drums and hand claps on opener “Lesanu,” the instrumental interplay between Washington and OutKast MC-turned-flutist André 3000 on the ethereal “Dream State,” Thundercat’s bass shredding on the sprawling “Asha the First,” the up-tempo crescendo of album closer “Prologue.” Funk stomper “Get Lit” succeeds as a modernized Parliament song, complete with vocals from George Clinton himself and a verse from Inglewood rapper D Smoke.

They’re juxtaposed by moments of clarity, be it the anthemic chorus on “The Garden Path” or the cinematic wonder of “Interstellar Peace (The Last Stance).” The one miss, ’80s throwback “Computer Love,” is just a little too corny for its own good.

What skeptics don’t understand is that Washington’s greatest gifts are compositional. Stuffy old-heads who negatively compare his playing to the virtuosic greats—John Coltrane, Ornette Coleman, Charlie Parker, etc.—miss the point entirely (not to mention underestimate his chops). With Fearless Movement, his third great record in a row, Washington once again demonstrates his commitment to innovation, cementing his place in the great jazz canon. He’s reigned in the runtime, but the ambitions remain. (www.kamasiwashington.com)

Author rating: 8.5/10