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Diving Into Gadabout Season
By Ian Sherry
10/23/2025
On June 13, 2025, Brandee Younger released her latest solo LP, Gadabout Season.
We have deemed expansion necessary, to new heights, new depths, new mediums, greater variety, and widened horizons. The relationship between demand and results, however, can be trepidatious. (Now switching out of the royal collective) I have been in the lab for you all, ruminating on an expanded product and the potential of a community attached to such a product. For now, you are that community. You are also the face of that torturous monster called Pressure. It’s a monster of my own creation, constructed from the expectations I imagine you all might have for me. Under Pressure is where I’ve done my best work, but his weight is tremendous, difficult to carry. This most recent phase of expansion has forced me to reckon with my inability to lug him any further, examine the ethics of projecting my own lofty expectations onto you readers, and grapple with the fact that pressure may not equate to progress. Pressure makes diamonds. But, is frozen crystal my desired form, or does my path require malleability? Maybe it’s not a push I need after all, but a pull. To run towards something is much different than away. Watching your goals come into view is a sounder reward than watching worries fade slowly into the rearview. The fact is, they can always catch up and present new reasons to move forward. Knowing that, there’s no point in dwelling on their presence, no matter how near, because you may miss something on the path in front of you.
As I scanned my path a few months back, I stumbled upon two music courses to complete my journalism-filled collegiate schedule. Yes, I’ve been in the lab, the music lab, and it’s just what the doctor ordered. With just a bit more knowledge, optimism, and moxy than I had yesterday, I bring you my review of Brandee Younger’s 2025 LP, Gadabout Season.
Brandee Younger arrived at an interesting time in jazz. A genre in no real danger of dying due to its lack of a single definition, the lines of jazz grow increasingly blurred in the electronic era. How does an artform built on pillars like improvisation and swing survive in a world of endless sonic possibilities where musical form as we know it has been simplified to production software displays, and abstracted, ambient electronic production has become a commonality? How do you wrangle the interest of an audience with shrinking attention spans, access to a skip button, and ears trained to subversive autotune?
Well, if anyone can navigate that dilemma it’s Younger. First trained classically at NYU, then as an apprentice of jazz (adjacent) greats like Pharoah Sanders, Ravi Coltrane, John Legend, and The Roots, she gained experience in bridging generations and genres. So, when it came time to go solo, Brandee Younger was more than equipped to form a sound around her chosen chordophone: the harp.
In my experience with the harp, its often are used as melodic fill behind the rhythm-driving instruments or overshadowed by horns. Music that solely features harp almost always feels loose and thin – sonically elegant but musically stagnant. That’s a line Younger toes at times on this record. Track 1, “Reckoning,” is a great example of the kind of flourishing and solo melodic blitzing I’ve come to expect from a lead harpist. It’s exciting, but borderline overstimulating and across an entire record it would produce the fatigue that I believe most jazz-avoidant listeners fear. Her presence had to be announced though, so announce it she did.
Track 2, “End Means,” moves nicely into the sound of the album and features the versatile flautist Shabaka. The two soloists share the lead role, with Younger playing underneath Shabaka’s runs and quality support from the drums and upright bass, which arrived for the remainder of the record. The title track follows. Placing “Gadabout Season” at 3 makes perfect sense – it’s not a leadoff piece nor the most memorable or captivating, but it’s pleasant mundanity, comfortable quality, and swinging bounce embody the soul of the record. It’s easy to picture Younger cutting this track and knowing it was the bones of something bigger.
“Breaking Point” is the first of my favorites. The bass is more present and sonically supportive than on any other piece as it churns out a 2 bar progression, lurching, 4/4 then 2/4 with drums flourishing in between. It’s an aggressive, high-tempo rendition of the swing feeling and Younger wails away with increasing might, steady precision, and decreasing restraint for 2:43.
Fifth is “Reflection Eternal” - a melodic breather before the next jumbo composition rolls out of your speaker. Track 6 picks up the light swirling sound of its predecessor with more convincing but infrequent bass support and shimmering drums underneath. The harp carries the tune, touching on the main melody repeatedly then cycling away into pseudo improvision and climbing higher towards the so-called “New Pinnacle.” It’s a grand track to throw in the center of a record, and while it resonates just fine from my speakers at home, I can’t help but imagine hearing it in a big space.
“Surrender” features pianist Courtney Bryan. The two trade back and forth, but to the untrained ear the load of strings could be indistinguishable. I’m just now feeling the ability to parse out the harp and it’s horizontally boxed counterpart, but Younger often emulates piano-style notes in her playing on this record making this feature less impactful than the others.
“BBL” has some bass to it as well, and if you can’t tell by now I prefer it that way (real bass). To me, the offset provided by a firm bottom like that of track 8 elevates any instrument on top of it. The harp soars more effectively with ground to push off, and when Younger meanders down amongst her accompaniment, as she does on “BBL”, it creates warm, thriving sonic ecosystem.
Younger welcomes vocalist Niia into said ecosystem on the dreamy “Unswept Corners.” These corners accumulated the mutual appeal of classical lounge-type music and suave contemporary r&b via the sparse and restrained contributions from all players and the tonal additions of a solid feature.
Josh Johnson’s presence was likewise productive on the final track “Discernment.” The somewhat sluggish build of the closer is wiped away by the bulkiness of Johnson’s alto saxophone. He appears all over the track, supporting a reaching Younger on her lengthy and ambitious runs, soaring alongside her at times, and occasionally cutting straight through all the noise to the center of the sound. Another quality contribution to a well-constructed, intentional record.
Brandee Younger may not be a musical visionary or Grammy-winning performer, but she is rich in understanding and control of her sound. She knows music. She can conceive it. And she did so with contemporarily uncommon consistency on this 2025 LP.
Gadabout Season is a 8.