Breakup albums are so common among singer-songwriter types that it’s fair to call them a genre staple. While several jazz vocal albums may be in that same category, it is rare to find an instrumental jazz album wholly devoted to separation and loss. Yet, saxophonist Wayne Escoffery released Alone a few weeks ago, and now pianist/composer Christian Sands follows suit with Embracing Dawn. Unlike his Grammy-nominated 2020 Be Water, which crackled with infectious energy throughout, Embracing Dawn is a cathartic exercise that progresses through the stages of grief and healing. Arguably, Sands’ purpose in doing so is not purely myopic; instead, he offers a series of musical guideposts for those who share a similar experience.
The music is startlingly wide-ranging, and while the narrative is intended to be cohesive and chronological, it wanders in several directions. Sometimes it works, and at others, it’s a little unsettling. We hear variations on soul, gospel, mid-tempo swing, traces of blues, trap-style beats, classical flourishes, and even acoustic jazz-rock fusion. Sands taps an impressive list of collaborators and close cohorts, including bassist Yasushi Nakamura, guitarist Marvin Sewell, vibraphonist Warren Wolf, harmonicist Gregoire Maret, and his drummer brother, Ryan Sands.
The album commences with an abstract, barely recognizable version of Billie Holiday’s ballad, “Good Morning Heartache,” with Sands’ piano and organ weaving swirling, melancholy colors with Sewell’s guitar. “Divergent Journeys” is slightly brighter, buoyed by Wolf’s vibes and shifting rhythms steered by drummer Ryan and bassist Nakamura behind Sands’ lyrical, gleaming piano runs. Yet, the overall effect here is still pensive. “Ain’t That the Same” is one of two genuinely upbeat pieces driven by a sturdy walking bass line, Sewell’s crafty guitar work, and Sands’ expressive playing. Nashamura picks up on the joyous vibe with his stout plucking.
This mood suddenly dissolves into the dirge-like “Thought Bubbles 1,” with the core quintet mired in reflective lines except for Ryan, who maintains surprising energy underneath the dreary cloud. “Serenade of an Angel” remains inward-focused, but slivers of light emerge mostly from Wolf and Sewell. As in the opening three-piece sequence, this one also bursts out from the gloom with the single “MMC” (named after ‘Mum’s Mac and Cola’). This tune represents uplift and warmth as a friend or family member usually offers comfort. The collective energy of the quintet is so effusive here that it seems we’re listening to a different record entirely.
As you’d guess, we plunge back into another three-piece sequence that kicks off with “Thought Bubbles 2.” This time, the groove is far more infectious and accessible. Again, it is primarily credited to Ryan’s drumming, but its ostinato patterns become a bit worn. Strings join for the funereal “Braises de Requiem (The Embers Requiem, Mov 1.), a mesmerizing piece of sonic melancholy that likely marks the end of grieving. The strings remain for the closing title track, the album’s standout, which seems to encompass all these stages of grief in one comprehensive piece, highly imbued by Maret’s bright, romantic harmonic. Dianne Reeves says Maret “always brings the fire.” Here, he brings a magical glow that soars above the simply structured piece.
Don’t be surprised if Sands attracts Grammy attention again. Embracing Dawn may take a few listens to grab you, but its emotional power may have you turn to it often as a musical salve for your melancholy mood.
