It charted high and sold well, but critics didn't embrace it the way they had before.
A Secret Place arrived in 1977 as a commercial success—it topped the Billboard Jazz Albums chart and cracked the Soul Albums top ten—but something had shifted in how the jazz establishment received Washington's work. The record didn't generate the critical momentum of his earlier releases. The Rolling Stone Jazz & Blues Album Guide gave it two stars, and the broader response felt muted compared to what had come before. This was his final studio album for Kudu Records, a label that had been central to his rise, so there was an underlying sense of an era closing.
Yet the record deserves better than that initial dismissal suggests. AllMusic reviewer Thom Jurek later argued for reconsideration, noting that Washington's tenor playing here is "sophisticated and utterly tasteful," with real emotional weight. The grooves have staying power—they're not flashy or trying to chase trends, just solid funk-soul-jazz fusion that actually works as music, not just background pleasure. The album's commercial appeal and its musical substance aren't at odds; they just existed in different conversations at the time.
This isn't the place to start with Washington, and it's not his strongest work overall. But it's worth hearing as a document of where he was at that moment—comfortable in his style, not reinventing anything, but executing with the kind of ease that comes from mastery. Sometimes an album gets its reputation backwards, praised on arrival and later forgotten, or dismissed initially and later reassessed. A Secret Place took the harder path: decent commercial showing, lukewarm critical reception, and then slow rehabilitation among listeners willing to hear what's actually there.