Review: Kamasi Washington, The Lantern

By now you have to acknowledge saxophonist Kamasi Washington’s apparently sudden stature as a big figure in the world of jazz. This gig was sold out months ago and there were hopefuls hanging about looking for spare tickets on the night – something that very rarely happens in the jazz world and would usually indicate a good two decades as an international name. Kamari Washington, however, sprang into attention with this year’s massive ‘solo’ album The Epic, a 3-CD set that successfully combines Coltrane-ish energy and freedom with lush production values (choirs, string orchestras …). It was an audacious folly of a project reflecting the man’s composed confidence and which has proved justified with massive (by jazz standards) worldwide sales. The vinyl version had just been released and the queue at the merch stall indicated they wouldn’t be taking many back to the tour bus afterwards.

The man casts a big figure on stage, too, his gold robe and large Afro a throwback reference to early 70s figures like Sun Ra or Pharaoh Sanders while bass man Miles Mosley’s beret and shades and Patrice Quinn’s Angela Davis combination of plain, tight black clothing recalled the Black Panther style of that era, too. With two drummers behind him the first number Askim kicked off like Archie Shepp, flailing keyboard and sawing double bass whipping into pandemonium from which the sax rose in a stately, almost classical manner to reclaim order. It was a great opening statement that combined early 70s electric fusion with some harder edged contemporary drum patterns while taking no chances with the harmonic possibilities.

Shorn of the big production it was more evidently jazzy than on the album, but that certainly wasn’t deterring the fans and gave a pleasing intimacy to Henrietta Our Hero, Kamasi’s tribute to his grandmother with Patrice Quinn’s impassioned floating vocals recalling Alice Coltrane’s songs over Brandon Coleman’s restrained piano. By the time we got to The Message and the inevitable drum ‘battle’ (actually a respectfully thunderous collaboration between Ronald Bruner and Tony Austin) and the declamatory Malcolm’s Theme (the words of Malcolm X exhorted over a Bitches Brew style mayhem) it was evident that the joys of the album were only a taster for the live experience of Kamasi Washington, the player. 

There must be something in the community roots of this powerful band (which included several school friends and his dad) and the West Coast DNA of their Los Angeles origins that gave an easy naturalness to the mix of old school and contemporary influences in the music. For any other aspiring jazzer looking to achieve world domination the lesson seems clear: think big, think modal and keep it in the family. Oh – and hang out with some cool hip-hop dudes like Kendrick Lamar. It’s certainly worked for Kamasi but then again he is pretty darn good at what he’s doing, too.