The Next Step

Washington opens The Epic with this declaration, and the ambition is immediately, unapologetically apparent: cascading strings, brass section arriving like a proclamation, and his saxophone positioned not as a solo instrument but as the human voice at the center of an entire civilization's worth of organized sound. The production is staggeringly layered — orchestra, choir, and the tight rhythm section of the West Coast Get Down all navigating an arrangement that feels simultaneously sprawling and purposeful. The emotional register is aspirational in the most literal sense: this is music that seems genuinely to believe in forward motion, in the possibility of progress both personal and collective. Washington's saxophone tone is full and authoritative without becoming didactic — he speaks, the ensemble responds, and the conversation models something about how individuals and communities might relate. The choir intones phrases of spiritual uplift that locate the piece within the long tradition of Black American sacred music while insisting on its present-tense urgency. This is music for significant moments — not background listening but the kind of score that makes the listener feel that their own life has been quietly upgraded to epic.