This reissue of a fascinating recording captures Marion Brown at a transition point (though he'd make a substantial detour) between Coltrane inspired spirituality and his burgeoning tendency toward Latin themes, sometimes in the same piece. In the opener, "La Sorrella", the first ten or so of its eleven and a half minutes are spent in that floating, chordal cloud one so often encountered in Coltrane, the rhythms loose (Rashied Ali, Coltrane's last drummer, on hand), the piano (Stanley Cowell) pastoral, the saxophone probing, searching and plaintive. After a powerful bass solo by Sirone (Norris Jones), with only a couple of minutes to go, a bouncy theme from south of the border, which Brown had indeed hinted at earlier, bursts through, just for a moment. Despite the brief allusion prior, it's a huge surprise, a ray of bright sunshine through the lovely mist. "Fortunato", which Brown would include in his repertoire for several decades, has a lovely, brooding theme, a wonderful platform for improvisation, which Cowell takes fine advantage of, showing some indebtedness to Tyner but beginning to carve his own sound as well, that "Strata-East" sound which would surface a few years hence. Brown's restatement of the theme at the tune's close is especially poignant.
The title track is the gnarliest of the bunch, a convoluted line that allows Brown to go swirling into improvisatory realms that anticipate Anthony Braxton. Indeed, one wonders about the influence of this piece (and album) on nascent members of the AACM. "Homecoming" closes things out with an initial nod to the folk forms used around this time by Albert Ayler, though again appending a jaunty Latin lick on its tail, something altogether unexpected, joyous and even a little goofy, launching the quartet on an off-kilter series of solos, weaving giddily, trying to maintain balance. Cowell verges on Taylor (while tossing in a few bars of ragtime!), Ali is aboil throughout, Sirone evinces the muscularity he'd soon show with the Revolutionary Ensemble while Brown just dances above, skipping along with grace and sorrow, plangent and earthy. He'd go through the marvelous series of albums on Impulse! before returning in the late 70s to the Latin tinges heard here, but "Why Not?" stands as a unique, powerful and, I suspect, very influential recording that's great to have around again.
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