Ware's music contains more conventional harmony, melody, and rhythm than is often supposed.
Surrendered arrived as David S. Ware's second and final Columbia release, recorded in 1999 and arriving in a moment when the saxophonist's reputation for uncompromising intensity sometimes preceded the actual listening experience. What AllMusic reviewer David R. Adler recognized immediately was that aggression and anguish don't require atonality—Ware was working with harmonic and melodic material that listeners could hold onto, even as his tone and phrasing pushed hard against conventional jazz vocabulary. This was a crucial distinction. The music swings, it resolves, it breathes, but it never feels safe or comfortable.
What made Surrendered stand out was its variety. Glenn Astarita noted for All About Jazz that no two songs sound alike, which matters because it meant Ware wasn't retreating into a signature sound for commercial reasons—he was simply working through different ideas, different moods. The album had enough traction and enough clarity that Astarita suggested it as a potential entry point for listeners hesitant about Ware's work overall, which is rare praise for someone known as difficult. That confidence came from the music itself, from producer Steven Joerg's sharp handling of the session, and from Ware's willingness to let melody and structure coexist with his characteristic intensity.
For those already familiar with his earlier work, Surrendered represented no retreat or softening. It was a demonstration that uncompromising playing and listener-friendly songcraft weren't opposites. For newcomers uncertain where to start, it offered a door that swung both ways.