Donny McCaslin, Declaration
With a five-piece brass band augmenting a core quintet on six of the eight songs here, Declaration is meant to showcase McCaslin's knack for composing and arranging for large ensemble. But it's McCaslin the saxophone soloist who keeps stealing the spotlight.
A third of the way through "M" (inspired by the Brazilian guitarist Egberto Gismonti), McCaslin has already begun methodically shredding the gossamer texture and measured tempo that came before, with tenor phrases both darting and serpentine and tones that variously murmur and holler, leaving it to pianist Edward Simon to beautifully restore the more pastoral sonic landscape. On "Fat Cat," the initial brass colorations are again usurped, this time by the potent and provocative Latin dialogue from Simon, drummer Antonio Sanchez, bassist Scott Colley and percussionist Pernell Saturnino (on his only appearance). The title track demonstrates McCaslin is first among equals even when playing within the horn section, and the Monkish angularity of "Uppercut," proves he doesn't need the other horns to launch a torrent of taut statements that are literally bundles of joy.
Two other songs deserve mention. "Rock Me" is a stunning display of jazz-rock fusion reminiscent of the Cobham-Duke band. Hearing McCaslin tear through the changes with such swagger and force, I can't come up with a more accomplished saxophonist who has given himself over to the fusion form this completely — and then guitarist Ben Monder grabs the baton in stride and maintains the pace in his own fashion. At the other extreme is the brass-less closer "Late Night Gospel," which allows pianist Simon ample space for the pensive elegance that is his forte, neatly abetted by Monder's Frisellian accents. Last but not least, a tip of the cap to the drummer Sanchez, continually notable for his ability to reflect and refract the front-line ideas and sensibilities of his cohorts regardless of mood and tempo.
