A refreshingly lyrical performance by masterful improvisers, making this one of the most compelling recordings of Ware's career.
David S. Ware arrived at Shakti at a crossroads. After more than two decades leading the same quartet, that band had dissolved, leaving him free to explore unfamiliar territory. The critical response was immediate and affirming. All About Jazz heard a musician shedding old skin without losing his voice—lyrical where he'd been stormy, emotionally open where he'd been abrasive. JazzTimes reviewer Steve Greenlee caught the exact shift: Ware's earlier work had produced some of free jazz's finest moments, but Shakti marked a genuine departure, one that felt equally fulfilling rather than like retrenchment. PopMatters framed it as a call to deeper essences, which might sound like soft language until you hear how William Parker, Joe Morris, and Warren Smith actually play together—with focus and restraint.
The music itself moves slowly and deliberately. Ware's tenor sax doesn't rage; it bends and questions. Morris on guitar creates spaces rather than fills them. Parker's bass work is conversational, anchoring without pushing, while Smith's percussion adds texture and breathing room. There's soulful intensity here, but it emerges from listening to one another rather than from virtuosity on display. This is not the sound of a saxophonist at his loudest or fastest.
For listeners coming from Ware's noisier work, Shakti can feel like a surprise—maybe even a letdown if you expected the old ferocity. But that's precisely why it matters. This is a musician choosing vulnerability over volume, and three collaborators meeting him there. It's accessible without being simple, meditative without being static.