David Sanborn
Time Again

At 58, the debut for Verve: a slightly Vogue-style cover, could it be the usual charmer on the brink of turning 60, the never-aging darkly mysterious... with that face a bit like that, those glasses a bit like that…

And yet it's a David Sanborn album, arguably the most influential alto saxophone over the last 30 years, known by many for his performance on Jaco Pastorius' first album, with the Brecker brothers or on Mike Stern's early albums, always at levels of absolute excellence but, let's be honest, not famous for good taste in choosing pieces and arrangements in his solo albums…

I decide to give him “some more time,” after all, he deserves it, and I find myself hooked by an unforgiving opening – I will notice later that the bassist is Christian McBride, the drummer Steve Gadd, that there's a certain Mainieri on vibes and Russell Malone on guitar, Gil Goldstein on Fender Rhodes…

An essentially nocturnal record, a master of the sax able to stir emotions with three long notes held just right, and then lightly flying away on a sudden arpeggio. The tone always lively and rich in expression… then there are also those who lament the absence of effects, of reverb, the easy listening nature of the tracks, and then prefer the album “Pearls” from 1992, where Sanborn certainly plays wonderfully but with a strings background that you wouldn't even find on a Mina album… Personally, I can't get distracted by issues like that.

The atmosphere these musicians create is delicate without being syrupy, thoughtful and melancholic without being sad, almost a pause after pain or a challenging moment, a disenchanted yet hopeful gaze. The finesse of the arrangement of Joni Mitchell’s “Man from Mars,” with the drum polyrhythms together with the stops of vibes and guitar, or the sensual rendition of “Isn’t she lovely,” with meditative strings respectful of the melody, make the late-'70s soft-core movie-style choir on “Cristo Redentor” fade into the background… minor flaws in the source of such beautiful music.

Even the choice of a very commercial “Tequila” becomes less predictable when brought to this thoughtful and vivid level. “Sugar” and “Spider B,” with their slow soul/funk groove alone make the CD worth purchasing, with masterful solos by Sanborn, who unfolds all his enormous rhythmic wisdom and an unconventional choice of notes for essentiality, while Malone, with a sound full of the wood of the guitar, warm and fluid, draws energetic patterns in a soft light.

An album with tracks rarely over five minutes, small stories crafted at a slow pace, tales of journeys and experiences, sudden flares under the urgency of an image that returns to memory. There is no self-importance in this work, although naturally, the bright, sunny, and moonlight timbre of Sanborn’s sax stands out, conveying a sense of unmatched control over the instrument and the music he creates and interprets, an airiness capable of leaving ample space to the rhythmic fantasy and the measured contributions of the great musicians collaborating on the work, capable of exceptional melodic conciseness, impeccable in subtle variations, which upon each listening reveal the participation and harmony.