by David Austin

 Over the past several years, saxophonist Alfredo Colón has been a major Jazz Gallery regular, whether playing as a sideman, part of a collective like Secret Mall, or leading his own groups. All of this work on the Gallery stage has resulted in his debut album as a leader, Blood Burden (Out of Your Head).

This Friday, Colón returns to The Jazz Gallery to celebrate the album’s release. We caught up with Alfredo to talk about depths of musical meaning, and the joys of antagonism in improvisation.

The Jazz Gallery: What is the significance of “Blood Burden?”

 Alfredo Colón: It’s both literal and symbolic. The record ends with a song I wrote for my dad. He grew up on a farm and was expected to contribute—one day his father asked him to kill a duck, and told him that if he didn’t he would never be a man. My father refused, and now when he tells me the story he always says, “If you have a duck in your life that you can’t bring yourself to kill, you don’t have to kill the duck.” In a way, my father lifted the burden: this machismo idea of a man; this idea that a man needs to be a killer.

The burden also has to do with the family sacrifices of many immigrant families. A lot of first generation children have this feeling that weighs on them; their parents sacrifice so much, and they have to make that sacrifice worth it.

 TJG: That’s pretty heavy subject material. Why did you choose to explore this for your debut record?

 AC: A lot of this music came out of the pandemic, during which we were locked down and I spent a lot of time with my family, really for the first time as an adult. My parents started telling me more about our family history, you know—details that could be too heavy to bring up to a kid.

Catholic imagery also inspires a lot of the music, and that comes from being around my family as well. I’m not religious, but I grew up Catholic.

 TJG: Do you have any spiritual inclinations?

 AC: No, not necessarily, but I feel like a lot of great music comes from reaching for something higher or bigger. I mean Coltrane was literally playing to God.

 TJG: So does your sense of self or spirituality change when you’re playing?

 AC: I always joke that I forget how to play the saxophone when it's not in my hands. Every time I pick it back up I’m like, “Oh, of course I can do this.” When I’m not with the horn, I revert to a childlike kind of self, where music is mysterious and fascinating to me.  I can listen without immediately breaking things down or trying to figure them out. I can just feel it.

But there’s also a heaviness or a seriousness that the music implicitly carries. People have died pursuing this craft. Others have had their lives saved by it. For example, someone like Giuseppe Logan: he had severe mental health issues, and went missing for years. Eventually he was found playing on half of a bass clarinet. His music saved him. It’s that serious.

 TJG: Let’s talk about some of the Catholic imagery that you reference in your liner notes. I understand your composition “V.M.C.S.” is written about your visits to the Cloisters with your older brother and seeing the tapestries on display.

 AC: Yeah, I was always a big fan of the Unicorn Tapestries at the Cloisters. There was one tapestry that really struck me in that series. The unicorn is supposed to be a symbol of purity and peace, however in this tapestry, they capture him, and the unicorn uses his horn to stab a dog.

My brother would always ask me these questions that didn't really have answers to them, but they would get me thinking about the art. A unicorn committing murder with his horn—how did that affect him? To me it seemed like he lost a part of himself in that struggle.

 TJG: What was the emotion you left those sorts of visits with?

 AC: With a fascination! The idea of something being open ended was so inspiring. When we’re young so much of our learning is centered around problem solving. There’s always a goal, or a correct answer. But with art and music, there isn’t necessarily a rational end. You can find or develop a resolution that resonates with you.

 TJG: How important is it that your bandmates understand the symbolic significance of your music?

 AC: Sometimes I tell them everything and sometimes I tell them nothing. These are close friends of mine, so they eventually find out the significance of the tune, but at the same time, I like to see what happens before they know.

I think I've mentioned this before, but the first time I played with Connor, I didn't say anything about the music or give him any instructions. You can't be married to an idea because the music will change before you get to see it become what you had in mind.

I want everyone in the band to bring themselves into the music. I really like when someone in the band is antagonistic and plays against me or someone else. I don’t want there to be hesitation in going into something completely different.

Steve, for example, is someone who always has me on my toes. He’s the musician I’ve spent the most time playing with and he knows how to push me into unknown territory while serving the music. Lex also provides so much musical information that you feel like you can pick and choose whichever of the many ideas he’s throwing at you and end up somewhere new.

I also give my bandmates the autonomy to completely disrupt the music at any point. I don't think there's been a moment yet where it’s happened completely spontaneously, where we decide to stop playing a tune and just destroy it, and then come back. But that option is always there. I told Lex on our first gig that he could play “Happy Birthday” if he wanted to. My bandmates are so good that I don't care what they do. I know that they take playing seriously and respect the music.

That’s not to say that there aren’t any guidelines or rules when we’re playing. The blues is at the center, forefront, and background no matter what. Every song is supposed to be a blues, sometimes with extra steps.

 TJG: Even with that trust, I would imagine you had some idea of how you wanted the record to sound. What were you hoping for? Do you think there’s perfect music or a perfect album?

 AC: Darius Jones once told me that art is a process. You have to be as objective as you can with how you reflect on it and then you move on. You have to keep moving. There are a lot of albums that I would consider perfect, but I'm sure behind some of those recordings are artists who can pinpoint things that they hate about it. Stan Getz who said something like, “we record to document ourselves.”

I could ruminate on whether I like how I sound, whether I pushed my mouthpiece in enough for this one take, if I was using the right reed or right microphone, but it's more satisfying to focus on the big picture and see the recordings from the outside. I see it like taking a family photo. You might have something in your teeth, your outfit might not be great, but you’re there with the people you love. It’s a beautiful thing to know that my bandmates are my guys and they were there for some of my first step.

 TJG: Is your music meant to be heard as dissonant and/or complicated? Do you try to relate to the average listener, and if so, how?

 AC: I wouldn’t consider it to be dissonant or complicated. Theres some pretty and some ugly in there but its all meant to be beautiful. A lot of the melodic content is inspired by popular music. I definitely get a lot of tendencies from rock and pop music as well as gospel and blues. It isn’t supposed to come off as complicated. It’s written in a way where there’s deliberately a sort of simplicity to the more complex material. All the harmony is written one voice at a time like a choir and inspired by romantic composers.

 TJG: Why did you choose Figure 8 studios and what sort of sonic landscape were you trying to evoke in your recording?

 AC: I chose figure 8 studios after visiting it when Amirtha Kidambi was recording her latest record New Monuments there. I had just gotten off of tour with them as a sub for Matt Nelson, and Amirtha wanted me to come check out how the band plays the material we were playing on the road. I sat with engineer Lily Wen in the control room and really loved how Lily ran the sessions. She hypes up the band as they go and I felt that someone like that would be great for what I was doing.

I also got to experience the studio again shortly thereafter when I tracked some stuff for Gabriel Zucker. Gabe pointed out that they had a keyboard made by Klavins called the Una Corda in there, and I really fell in love with the instrument. Its a piano with no shell and only one string per note. It was slightly out of tune from some previous sessions and I really loved that sound. I asked them to not tune it for my session and it really added an eerie element to the songs we featured it on.

 Alfredo Colón celebrates the release of Blood Burden (Out of Your Head Records) at The Jazz Gallery on Friday, June 14, 2024. The group features Mr. Colón on alto saxophone, Ryan Easter on trumpet, Lex Korten on piano, Steve Williams on bass, and Connor Parks on drums. Sets are at 7:30 and 9:30 P.M. E.D.T. $25 general admission ($15 for members), $35 reserved cabaret seating ($20 for members), $20 livestream access ($5 for members) for each set. Purchase tickets here.