It is an album that reaches emotional and spiritual depths without ever overindulging, undermining, or losing itself.

Seeing the announcement of Floating Points and Pharaoh Sanders coming together to produce a continuous piece of music, one shaped over nine movements in collaboration with The London Symphony Orchestra, was, even in the absence of any sample audio or suggested sound, totally electrifying. Promises was mysteriously introduced with two portions of laconic dialogue that, seasoned with ellipses, offered insight into the poetic musings and mutual respect the artists share.

“What were you dreaming about?” Shepard (Floating Points) asks, having mistaken Sanders’ contemplation for sleep. 

“I’m on a ship. In the ocean. Bears coming around smoking cigars.” Sanders responds.

It is easy to overlook the conversations as a novel supplement to the album’s context, perhaps a teasing addendum, but there is nothing contrived about them. And, after listening to the album, I’d be inclined to call them an essential element. 

Pharaoh Sanders was born in Little Rock, Arkansas. At a young age, he became immersed in the local music scene, sneaking into clubs to perform alongside touring bands. After a relatively brief, but nonetheless fruitful, period in California, he moved to New York City, which allowed him to pursue and celebrate the free jazz sound he adored. His time in there was not immediately successful and there are tales of him sleeping in subways, pawning his saxophone, and receiving support, even clothing, from other artists, such as Sun Ra. These stories dissipate around the same time John Coltrane saw Sanders play at the Village Gate and offered him a place in his band.

Sam Shepard was born in Manchester, England, developing his musical career alongside a science-centric education that culminated in an epigenetic and neuroscience PhD. Equipped with a background in classical music composition, Shepard eventually became an avid record collector, travelling to various countries, from India to Brazil, in search of vinyl grails and a greater understanding of international sounds. His keen focus led him not only to experiment in multiple genres, producing hip-hop, 2-step garage, and house, but it also manifested itself as meticulous and signature craftsmanship associated with a Floating Points release.

The two artists, who, for all their background differences and similarities, are masters of their own fields, came together with Luaka Bop’s guidance, the album’s record label, which had been interested to match them together for years. Both became familiar with each other’s work and developed what now seems to be an immense mutual admiration. After five years of collaboration, with Sanders and Shepard recording together in Los Angeles while working across the Atlantic to produce with The London Symphony Orchestra, Promises was created. 

The album begins with tenderness, interlacing a shimmering motif with the restrained interjections of Sanders’ saxophone. The studio can be heard with absolute clarity. The shallow force of each key, the drag of every breath, what could even be the creak of a chair. Riffs play, then pause, mimicking the flow of a conversation, occasionally lingering to conclude a player’s solo tangent, while the other cautiously interrupts and responds.

Even only a few minutes in, I found myself mesmerised by the modest soundscape and musical restraint. The first movements make no effort to rush themselves, despite occasionally suggesting that Sanders and Shepard might suddenly run away with certain melodies. Instead, they maintain their composure, drifting between introspective, sombre expressions and those of humour. Even the orchestra’s strings, which quietly appear early on, are hesitant and subdued, confined, at first, entirely to the background.

First-time listeners should be aware that Promises is not a distinct collection of tracks. There are gradual and apparent differences within the movements, as well as a later ascent into a climax, but it should be considered and heard as a single, inseparable piece of music — one that, in my opinion, deserves to be listened to with zero distractions.  

It is difficult to overstate how much restraint is at work. Promises takes its time, never feeling hasty. Cameo notes from an array of instruments quietly interject, complementing the moment, only to then disappear for lengths of time, later returning with more confidence, similar to the typically responsive performance of free jazz, but here played out with a soft elegance. Everything seems to suggest a slow complexity is at work but I might say that, more prominently, Promises is a simple and wholly accessible album. And, while many may have correctly predicted how meditative it was likely to be, I’d wager Promises may still be a surprise to fans of both individual artists because of how provenly delicate and conceptual it is.

Gradually, the orchestra’s contribution takes the centre stage at around halfway through, asserting a cinematic score that embellishes the album with majesty. Its refinement hushes Sanders’ playing and, recalling his conversation with Shepard, I cannot help but imagine him taking a moment to close his eyes and sleep, before returning again to lead Promises into its denouement, unleashing his iconic overblowing momentarily, erupting against a background of fairytale strings and otherworldly synths.  

Following this momentary rise, all is once again hushed and the musicians exit as calmly as they entered, but this time escorted out with a low, gloomy organ: long notes seasoned with an underlying tension. The finale, which I would call the album’s most curious moment, is a false absence, feigning a conclusion before one final, melancholy movement finishes the ninth.  

I was entirely arrested during Promises. Shepard and Sanders take a step back from the defining energy of their most famous respective works to affectionately explore a new sound, one that is undeniably accomplished. Despite being one of the great many fans who eagerly anticipated something special, I did not expect something so entirely visceral. It is an album that reaches emotional and spiritual depths without ever overindulging, undermining, or losing itself.

It would be my genuine surprise, and my great disappointment, if Promises does not go on to be widely regarded as a masterpiece.