For decades, alto saxophonist and flutist Alan Braufman was a cult musician whose then-lone LP as a bandleader, 1975’s Valley of Search, offered rich, evocative, and forthright sonic documentation of a lower Manhattan jazz scene slightly afield from the SoHo and Lower East Side hubbub. Following the enthusiastically-received reissue of that record forty-three years later, Braufman, who never stopped playing or writing music, has marked several years of greater visibility with a string of consistently warm and intense small-group recordings (and a few previously-unissued archival discs) that feature a mix of peers and younger firebrands from the contemporary American improvisation scene.
Alan Braufman
in New York City, 2020
Photo by Gabriela Bhaskar
A necessity for this time period, the aptly-titled Anthem for Peace sees Braufman in a quartet setting, joining forces with vibraphonist Patricia Brennan and drummer/percussionist Chad Taylor, both of whom are returning from 2024’s Infinite Love Infinite Tears, and bassist Luke Stewart, a familiar player marking his first collaboration with the saxophonist. One cut, the lilting and funky “Snow in Central Park,” is a holdover from that prior date and includes Michael Wimberly on congas and bassist Ken Filiano. Though this record’s seven tracks are concise and clearly delineated, programmatically they hang together, a quality recognizable throughout Braufman’s leader discography (his debut consists of two sidelong suites), not least because his compositions are hooky and inviting.
The opening piece, “Angels,” is anthemic, gospel-tinged, and with a martial B-section, recalls Albert Ayler though with Braufman’s more velvety flywheel as an underpinning. The leader’s alto can certainly peel paint, but these salvos are delivered with a patient brightness and loquacious urgency. “In Motion” is a post-bop number in which the tart push of Jackie McLean is audible, but contextually updated with the warped cascades of Brennan’s electronically-augmented vibraphone, a voice that is both foregrounded and glassily atmospheric, and the supplely driving gradient of bass and drums. Stewart and Taylor are a telepathic pairing throughout, rock solid on the groovier numbers (dig Taylor’s metronomic backbeat, tight enough to almost sound looped) and shimmering in freer rubato space.
Alan Braufman
in New York City, 1974
Though Braufman is the only horn (tenor saxophonist James Brandon Lewis has been a frequent front-line partner), occasional and elegantly-done overdubs create interweaving lines. On the title tune, its appealing melodic bounce is accentuated by doubling octaves, and there’s the bamboo-like birdsong of the closing “Reflections on a Rainy Day” with its shakuhachi-like clamber. Through the subtle linkages between songs, improvisations, and four individual personalities, Anthem for Peace creates a highly simpatico and positive sonic worldview that we can all get behind.