Pharoah Sanders: 13/10/40-24/09/2022

The death of Pharoah Sanders marks the end of a historic grouping of avant-garde musicians who came of age in the mid 1960s. The 81 year-old was ‘The Son’ to ‘Father’ John Coltrane and the ‘Holy Ghost’ Albert Ayler, both of whom passed decades before him, so with the departure of the last surviving member of that hallowed trinity comes a sense of closure. A blessed soul ascends; a circle closes.

Sanders became a figurehead for the school of ‘spiritual jazz’ that has enjoyed a resurgence of interest of late, and the fact that he was Coltrane’s protégé and went on to join innovative bands led by both ‘Ohnedaruth’ and his widow Alice ‘Turiya’ meant that Sanders was closely involved in the creation of this new vocabulary. Its inspired combination of modal structures, transcendent ambiances and Afro-Asian timbres would feature extensively in the music he made throughout his lengthy career. 

Born Farrell Sanders in Little Rock, Arkansas, Sanders debuted in local church bands and studied music in Oakland, California, before eventually heading to New York where he would make an exponential leap as a player. He spent long hours practicing with Coltrane who encouraged him to find his own creative voice. Indeed, the fruits of his labour were heard on the many timeless albums Sanders cut for Impulse! between the late 1960s and mid-70s. Highlights include Tauhid, Thembi, Jewels Of Thought, Wisdom Through Music, Village Of The Pharoahs, Elevation and Black Unity.

The latter is an ecstatic opus that saw Sanders and a band with a mammoth double drums-bass axis create for the best part of 40 minutes a tidal wave of sound that had remarkably heavy textures, though the sustained rhythmic momentum and sense of the ensemble moving towards the same uplifting emotional climax was palpable.   

By this time Sanders’s withering shrieks, bubbling high harmonics, cracking overtones and concise but potent phrasing made him a leader of considerable stature. But there was also a gentle, serene side to his musical character that would surface on anthems such as ‘The Creator Has A Master Plan’, featuring the glorious vocals of Leon Thomas who also appeared on Izipho Zam (My Gifts), another album which boasted what was really the companion to the aforesaid track, ‘Prince Of Peace.’

In the 1970s Sanders explored anything from Latin and African music and disco-tinged funk but it was his foray into hard swing on Journey To The One that brought him to the attention of a whole new audience in the mid-80s. One of the key tracks on the album ‘You Gotta Have Freedom’, a quite joyous straightahead track that cleverly contrasted Sanders’ explosive honks with crystalline female vocals, became a huge hit on the UK jazz dance scene and subsequently made the saxophonist a cult figure for the burgeoning acid jazz movement of the 1990s, whose most high-profile exponents Galliano would cover ‘Prince Of Peace.’ And at the end of the decade the greatly experimental genre-free British combo 23 Skidoo, who brought together non-western rhythms and industrial sounds, collaborated with Sanders on the gorgeous ‘Dawning’.  

Given his illustrious history it was hardly surprising that other artists and producers would seek out Sanders, and among several noted collaborators were Bill Laswell, Adam Rudolph & Hamid Drake, Kahil El Z’Bar’s Ritual Trio, Graham Haynes, Chicago/São Paulo Underground, David Murray and the Gwo’ka Masters. In all these partnerships Sanders proved to be as responsive as he was assertive, producing his trademark sound all the while adapting to the precise context in which he appeared   

He recorded far less frequently in the last few years of his life, though Promises, the 2021 set he made with Mancunian producer-composer Floating Points was a gripping reminder that Sanders was simply a master musician. He played sparely but movingly on a lushly orchestrated suite that was largely inspired by the saxophonist’s own work, particularly his 1977 song ‘Harvest Time’, a harbinger of all things ambient.  

While this wealth of recordings is a fitting testimony to the high rank that Sanders has in the canon of contemporary black music it was really his magical live performances that defined him both as an artist and personality. Hearing him draw that inimitable tone from his tenor, which felt as if he was harnessing the power of wind, sea and earth into a single big bang note was truly unforgettable, but so too was the sound of Pharoah’s voice. A man of few words he would often burst into short choruses and when he hollered “Africa, Africa, Africa!”, he was channeling spirits that are set to live on in hearts and minds for years to come. His loss is keenly felt. His legacy is eternal.