Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart once noted that “melody is the essence of music.” This may be true, but such a perspective overlooks how melody can also serve as a restraint. For an artist seeking to freely express themselves, would not adherence to a central motific theme stand in their way? As a result, in the mid to late Twentieth Century, as composers of all stripes pushed for increased freedom in their music, often, the melody became obfuscated. Or absent entirely. But as Alan Braufman reminds listeners with Infinite Love Infinite Tears (Valley of Search, 2024), the distinction between free expression and strict melody is one of gradation, not absolutism.
To call the saxophonist’s pieces “simplistic” would seemingly belittle them. Still, there is an instantly relatable nature to his work. One can easily hum or sing – Braufman’s preferred compositional approach – them compared to some intricately complex arrangement of sounds composed at a piano. The result is unavoidably theme-driven tracks as on the aptly titled “Chasing a Melody.” The song is an Ornettish anthem that proclaims that part of the reason the greats of free music – whether Albert Ayler, John Coltrane, or the Master of Harmolodics himself – were brilliant was not merely because of the wild abandon of their solos but their ability to craft memorable melodies. Similarly, “Brooklyn” is prefaced on propulsive Afro-Caribbean rhythms over which the leader’ laid-back flute gently glides. Actually, two-thirds of the album is in major key, adding tranquility to the affair. But make no mistake, Infinite Love Infinite Tears is a quintessentially free recording. This is most evident in “Spirits,” where a slow and steady march turns turbulent as it swirls and twists around Patricia Brennan’s vibraphone’s whirs and bends.
Braufman can smoothly combine free expression and clear melodies partly because he’s always done it. It is the reason his music has been referred to as “optimistic free jazz.” While the saxophonist’s output is somewhat limited – where some artists release several albums each year, he has only a handful under his name – quality more than offsets quantity. His debut, Valley of Search (India Navigation, 1975) – with Cooper-Moore, Cecil McBee, David Lee, and Ralph Williams – is considered a classic recording of the loft jazz scene, an art form that prospered in an era when improvised music supposedly “died.” The record’s influence is so significant that even the artist himself was surprised by the reception received when his nephew, Nabil Ayers, reissued the recording in 2018. The firepower surrounding him on Infinite Love Infinite Tears further underscores his artistic importance. James Brandon Lewis, Patricia Brennan, Ken Fillano, Chad Taylor, and Michael Wimberly are the types of artists who work on only the finest of projects. Between Braufman’s compositional prowess and the brilliance of those executing his thoughts while adding their own, Infinite Love Infinite Tears is a recording that proves that alienating some listeners is not a requisite for free expression.
We sat down with Braufman to discuss Philip Glass, the loft jazz scene, and the making of his new record.
PostGenre: To start with a somewhat random question, you worked with Philip Glass at one point, right?
Alan Braufman: That’s an interesting story. I almost worked with him. In 1972, I took some time off from [the] Berklee [College of Music] and moved back to New York. During that period, almost every night, I used to go to jam sessions a drummer friend of mine named David Lee, who is also on Valley of Search, would put on in his friend’s loft. It was almost always the same people; they weren’t open sessions. But Philip Glass used to hang out there all the time and was friends with the musicians. This was back before he was well known. He heard me, liked my playing, and invited me to play in a band. The band was going to be synth and four saxophones. The music was incredibly complex.
I went to some rehearsals, and then Philip invited me to do my first gig with them. I was going to be in the band. But, for the same night we were supposed to perform, Cooper-Moore and I got invited to play as a duo over the radio for WKCR. We got that invitation about a month before the scheduled performance with Philip, so it wasn’t like it came at the last minute. But I decided to do the WKCR thing with Cooper-Moore instead of the concert with Phillip. And shortly after that, I moved back up to Boston. So, working with Philip just never happened. I’ve always wondered what would have happened if I made a different decision and instead did the concert with Phil and didn’t go back to Boston. But Cooper-Moore and I were able to make a lot more music after I got back to Boston.
PG: How did you first meet Cooper-Moore?
AB: Oh, well, I was going to Berklee when I met him. Cooper-Moore was not going to Berklee, but I did catch a gig of his at a club called the Western Front out in Cambridge, [Massachusetts] with David Ware on tenor and Mark Edwards, I think, on drums. I brought my horn and ended up sitting in. I guess Cooper-Moore liked my playing. He had these jam sessions over at his place. His place was way out from Boston. You had to take like two trains, and then a bus to get there every Friday afternoon. And we – me, Cooper-Moore, and the trumpeter Mark Gould, who was late the principal trumpet of the Metropolitan Opera’s orchestra for many years – would jam. Then, in 1973, I moved back to New York. So did Cooper-Moore and David and the three of us ended up living together in a building on Canal Street.
PG: You recorded Valley of Search in that building, right?
AB: Right there, yeah. There was a storefront on the first floor where we could practice. We rehearsed 24/7 every day. And then we had concerts every Friday and Saturday, right there. Bob Cummings, the founder of India Navigation Company, which is the label that first released Valley of Search brought his recording equipment to our storefront on Canal Street, and we recorded there.
PG: In general, it seems the loft scene is not as well documented as the works of people making free music before that period. Do you have any sense as to why that is?
AB: Well, you know, the music was more underground, at the time. There was less written about it back then. There’s plenty written about it now, but it’s history now. I never really thought about that question about why there wasn’t more written. I would just assume that, back then, there was the establishment jazz and the underground scene, and we got less attention.
PG: Going back to Cooper-Moore, one thing that seems to set your new record, Infinite Love Infinite Tears, apart from your prior records is the absence of Cooper-Moore on piano. When it became clear that Cooper-Moore was unavailable, did you seek another piano player? Or did you immediately switch the part to Patricia Brennan’s vibraphone?
AB: Cooper-Moore told me a while ago that he was doing more with his homemade instruments and somewhat limiting his piano playing. And he also didn’t want to do too many tunes and, instead, to focus on free improv.
So, I was in Finland in December 2022. There was a bill for the We Jazz Festival with three artists who were on the Valley of Search/Control Group label, the label that I’m on. It was me, Patricia, and the Swedish musician Tomas Nordmark. The festival had a night where they had us three artists playing opposite each other. This was the first time I had met Patricia, though I had listened to her before and knew her music. I asked her if she would be interested in joining this project with me, and she agreed.
I was trying to get everything organized by the following May. I called everyone that I wanted to play on it – everyone on the album – in May, but we couldn’t get us all together in the same city until November because everybody is so busy.
PG: What do you feel switching the piano part out for a vibraphone adds to the recording?
AB: I love the sound of the vibes. The instrument has such a beautiful open sound. And it reminds me of those Blue Note albums in the 60s. Recordings like Out to Lunch (Blue Note, 1964) by Eric Dolphy and Evolution (Blue Note, 1963) by Grachan Moncur III, both with Bobby Hutcherson on vibes. Or Karl Berger on Don Cherry’s Symphony for Improvisers (Blue Note, 1967). I’m not comparing my album to those, I’m just hearing instrumentation. The sound of vibes in those recordings was wonderful. I was so happy when Patricia said she would do the record.
PG: You also have a different drummer than on your last record, The Fire Still Burns (Valley of Search, 2022). On that record, you had Andrew Drury, and now you have Chad Taylor. Do you feel changing the drummer changed the trajectory of the group?
AB: Yeah it did. Andrew Drury is a wonderful drummer. I actually initially asked Andrew to be on the record, but he was going to be in Europe at the time we were recording. Chad is very different from Andrew, and he took the album in a different direction. But I don’t know what this album would be with Andrew since we never made it. But Chad is one of the premier drummers in the world, and I was very happy to have Chad join us.
PG: The rest of the group on Infinite Love Infinite Tears – James Brandon Lewis, Ken Fillano, Michael Wimberly, and yourself – were also on The Fire Still Burns. How do you feel the musical conversations between the four of you have most developed since that last recording?
AB: Well, as far as James, I was initially attracted to his playing because of his tone; his sound. Tone is the first thing I listen to in other musicians, especially saxophone players since I’m a saxophone player. Also because the saxophone has such a large range of how it could sound. The flute has a wide range, but it’s nowhere near the saxophone. I was attracted to James’ beautiful sound, which he has only further refined since then. His sound is gorgeous.
PG: Was there, initially, any hesitancy to have a second saxophonist in the group?
AB: No. I don’t really care what instrument someone plays as long as I love their tone. I just listen to their tone. But I also thought our two saxophones would blend well together. Actually, when I did The Fire Still Burns, I didn’t necessarily want another saxophone player. But I wanted James because I love his tone so much.
As far as Ken, he adds so much to the group. I’ll often write basslines and he will improve on them, change them, and say let’s do this instead. It’s so good to have that input. And Michael is a great percussion player. We’ve known each other for forty years.
PG: Together you make music that has been described as “optimistic free jazz.” Do you have any sense as to why more free jazz tends not to be more approachable?
AB: Yeah, I want to say something about that. The description “optimistic free jazz” was something that Daniel Spicer came up with in a review of The Fire Still Burns, and I liked it. I’m not necessarily optimistic in my life, but I think what I mean by “optimistic free jazz” would be that when you’re playing the music, it’s about life and beautiful colors. Maybe “life-affirming free jazz” is a better description, but I think most free jazz is quite life-affirming.
PG: But your music is, perhaps, a bit more approachable than most free jazz. You grew up listening to people like [Eric] Dolphy when you were young, and most people are not exposed to that music until later in life. Do you feel that being ingrained in that kind of music at a young age has made you able to produce free music that is a little more approachable?
AB: I think what makes it approachable is that I’m really into melody and many free jazz musicians are not. I’m not saying that as a negative thing about them. They can still play beautiful things, but they’re not as tied to the melody. I write melodies. I sing them to myself, and that’s how I write them. I think what comes out is a little more approachable because it’s singable.
Also, I’m a Gemini. A characteristic of a Gemini is that we get bored quickly. We like change. And I like the music to move. I don’t like to hang out in one place too long. I think it is easier to keep things moving if you have a melody.
Some people might think that Infinite Love Infinite Tears is not a free jazz album because it has melodies. They would suggest there is not enough screaming on it, which has kind of become characteristic of free music. But I think they miss the point. In the 60s, we were listening to [John Col]trane, Eric Dolphy, or whomever. They were doing high-note screams and everything, but when they did, it was meaningful because they didn’t live there. It wasn’t the crux of their music. They could achieve a peak and then get away. Since then, so many people have used that vocabulary to stay in that area. I like to get in and then get out. I don’t know, maybe my own impatience made it a little easier for other people to listen to the music because there are no ten-minute screaming solos on it. Not that I mind ten minutes screaming solos. I grew up on them and have done plenty.
PG: You have lived in Utah for several decades now. Do you feel having lived there, away from New York, has shaped how you create music?
AB: No, I don’t think so. The music has always been shaped in my own head, and I think I do that wherever I am. I have always wondered how things would have been different had I continued to live in New York all this time. The music probably would be different because I would have had different playing experiences, and you bring all of your experiences to your music.
PG: Where did the title Infinite Love Infinite Tears come from?
AB: Well, I wrote the title song and started to think about titles. I often have trouble with titles. When we were recording The Fire Still Burns, I hadn’t named any of the tunes. It was #1 #2 #3, etc. As far as the song that became “Infinite Love Infinite Tears”, as I wrote it, it seemed bittersweet, and I started thinking of titles that would express that emotion. I think that love and tears are very interconnected because without love you get grief. Also, I like the sound of it, Infinite Love Infinite Tears.
PG: A little earlier, you mentioned how you write by singing parts. Is that an approach you have always used to write songs or did it develop over time?
AB: It developed over time. I have sat down and written things, but what came out through that process never seems as good as the stuff that arrives organically. Like most musicians – I assume, I haven’t actually asked anyone – I have music going around in my head pretty much all the time. Most of it is there for a moment but quickly gone. Some of it stays with you because it has a memorable melodic line. For me, writing out what I sing works well. The problem with it is I don’t know when inspiration is coming. Sometimes it comes unexpectedly.
And, of course, the music changes over time. When I called everyone in May of 2023 to come record the album, if we had gotten together then, the music would have been completely different than what we ended up recording in November. Between May and November, I wrote the new album as ideas came and went. Since then, I have had very little inspiration. I just have to wait for it to come.
Infinite Love Infinite Tears will be available on Valley of Search Records on May 17, 2024. It can be purchased on Bandcamp. More information on Alan Braufman can be found on his website.
Photo Credit: Robbie Jeffers
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