For a sax player known more for his brute blowing force than his sensitive melodies, David S. Ware certainly doesn't sound like himself on Surrendered. Perhaps that's for the best.
There are 14 records of Ware honking his beard off. This is not one of them.
The saxophonist's staggering tone remains intact here, but it's more controlled. Rather than simply blasting through the arrangements, Ware forges an even closer relationship than normal with his pianist, Matthew Shipp, who gracefully sketches out the giant melodies on this record before turning them over to Ware to be blown out. It's deceivingly serene, and on cuts like Beaver Harris's rolling, Coltrane-esque African Drums, the familiar muscular playing ripples just beneath the surface. When Ware lets it