The first three tunes gather the colors of the American flag in the way Washburne sees them. And so, red, white and blue come off as “Pink,” “Off-White” and “Blue Gust,” which in his view is a pale shade of blue. But there is nothing washed out about the music. Washburne uses several Latin music idioms, turning the tunes into stirring sentinels for his call, and the band comes up strong and torrid, playing with conviction and passion. Pianist Barry Olsen sets up “Pink” before Washburne adds a Latin sinew on the trombone. Olsen contrasts the approach with lighter shading, the balance split by John Walsh's trenchant trumpet.

A funky bass line from Leo Traversa gets “Off-White” going. The music sidles down several avenues, its flavour wound around the melodic motif and realised delectably until Ole Mathisen takes his tenor saxophone into a riptide with jabbing phrases. The third tune steps in with a jaunt. Washburne swipes in the melody, indulging in it and leading Walsh, whose take extends its body. The horns interweave, the pulse gets hotter, and Olsen romps in with a happy disposition. Melody is key here, and it saturates the playing until Mathisen goes off on a tangent of pithy lines.

Chris Washburne has more to say, and he fashions “Guantanomo” as a lament before it flexes into a rhythmic swish, drums and congas laying the bed for the front line; Walsh makes the strongest impact with his heart-wrenching playing. It all comes to a head on the two “Peace” tunes, each of which offers its own vision of the process. The first, by Ornette Coleman, lights a gradual fire; the other, from the heart of Horace Silver, is a beseeching lament that cuts a deep swath.