photo: krists luhaers · cc by 2.0 ↗Kamasi Washington grew up in South Central Los Angeles steeped in jazz by his saxophonist father Rickey Washington, and broke out in 2015 with the three-hour double album The Epic, reintroducing choir-and-orchestra-scaled spiritual jazz to a generation raised on hip-hop. A member of the West Coast Get Down collective alongside Thundercat and Terrace Martin, he built his rhythmic vocabulary as a teenage touring saxophonist with Snoop Dogg before returning to acoustic jazz as a bandleader. His playing carries John Coltrane's intensity and Pharoah Sanders' overtone-rich tone into arena-scale, genre-blurring performance.
Washington has called Coltrane “a really bright light” who “changed my musical brain” — the totalizing intensity, modal vamps, and searching spiritual bent of Coltrane's 1960s quartet became the grammar Washington builds his own long-form pieces around.
listen forCue up Coltrane's “A Love Supreme, Pt. I – Acknowledgement” and then Washington's own “Truth” — both ride a simple incantatory phrase for minutes at a stretch, building intensity through repetition and testimony rather than chord changes.
Washington first heard Sanders live at the tiny World Stage club in Leimert Park and has said “I always loved that sound that Pharoah put out” — the thick, overtone-saturated tenor tone and the practice of stretching a single vamp into a meditative trance runs straight through Washington's own writing.
listen forPut on Sanders' side-long “The Creator Has a Master Plan” next to Washington's “The Space Travelers Lullaby” — both hover over a slow, repeating figure and let the horns wander into overblown, keening textures rather than tight melodic statements.
Washington arranged strings for “Mortal Man” and played tenor saxophone on “u,” spending early 2015 embedded in the hip-hop production world of To Pimp a Butterfly at the same time he was finishing his own debut The Epic — a shared West Coast circle, with Thundercat and Terrace Martin, that left its drum-forward, groove-conscious fingerprints on his solo work.
listen forListen to Kendrick Lamar's “u,” where Washington's own saxophone winds through the beat, then his “Fists of Fury” — the same unrelenting low-end pocket and hip-hop-schooled sense of rhythmic placement drives both.