Exploration Without a Map or Destination
More exploratory than its companion session, Soundsigns catches Redman at his most adventurous.
Soundsigns moves with the restless energy of someone still discovering what his instrument can do. The saxophone doesn't announce itself here—it emerges from spaces, sometimes urgent and bright, sometimes breathy and uncertain. There's an openness to the sound, a willingness to let phrases breathe and conversations happen without rushing toward resolution. The album breathes at its own pace, neither locked into groove nor drifting aimlessly. Dewey Redman is playing with real inquiry here, testing the tenor's range from nearly subliminal whispers to full-voiced declarations, and the rhythm section moves with him—responsive, curious, giving him room to wander.
Recorded in 1978 for Galaxy, Soundsigns emerged from the same sessions that produced Musics (1978), but it's notably more exploratory than that companion set. Scott Yanow's AllMusic review recognized this distinction immediately. Where Musics settled into something more coherent, Soundsigns leans into uncertainty and experiment. This isn't free jazz exactly, but it's not bound by conventional structure either. The album feels like it's thinking out loud, which is precisely what makes it compelling—there's real stakes in the playing, a sense that Redman and his collaborators are genuinely discovering the sound as they make it.
This is essential listening for anyone serious about Redman's work, though it asks more from the listener than his more straightforward records. If you want Redman playing hard and direct, House of the Hunter (1976) is the better entry point. But if you want to hear a master saxophonist in full investigative mode, willing to abandon certainty for the sake of finding something new, Soundsigns is exactly where you need to be.
