A Percussion Paradise Inhabited By Searing, Soaring Sensations

From its solo conga introduction to its exuberant ensemble finale, Donny McCaslin's "Soar" leads listeners along a path of tension, anticipation, and release. The pleasures of the performance are immediate, yet its full gratification is tantalizingly delayed: rhythm first, then added texture, then a gathering rush of sound as each musician finds a place in the unfolding drama.

Immanuel Kant's 1764 Observations on the Feeling of the Beautiful and Sublime invited readers to deeply consider subjective expressions of pleasure, whether feelings of simple satisfaction or fully aroused enjoyment. Both seem to be at play here. The eponymous seventh track on McCaslin's 2006 album begins with restraint, inviting us to listen closely, before gradually opening into something far more expansive.

Pernell Saturnino, the Grammy-winning percussionist from Curaçao, sets the journey in motion with more than a minute of intricate conga work. Heel-toe strokes, quinto slaps, full tones, muted touches, and ghost notes create a rhythmic landscape that is both precise and teasing. After a two-measure pause, Saturnino returns with a steady groove, turning that initial rhythmic exploration into a source of mounting anticipation.

McCaslin's tenor saxophone joins first, its voice cutting through Saturnino's pulse, while Antonio Sanchez's drums add weight and momentum. Scott Colley's bass soon deepens the groove, and Luis Bonilla's trombone and Shane Endsley's trumpet broaden the ensemble's sonic palette. The music keeps gathering force without losing the dramatic tension established at the outset.

Ben Monder's guitar steps forward for a virtuosic solo, shifting the center of gravity once again. Then McCaslin briefly reclaims the spotlight before the musicians converge, their individual voices merging into a jubilant culmination.

What begins with a single percussionist ends with the full ensemble in flight, a fitting realization of both this track and its album's title, as well as a reminder that sometimes the most fulfilling experiences are those that ask us to anticipate, then insist we wait for, a satisfying conclusion.