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Rating: It is a soul, soft, pure.
He is an artist of extreme sensitivity.
He is a king without a crown.
Hubbard is a giant that lies somewhere in a cemetery, down in California.
His traces remain, soft, full-bodied and soaked in expressiveness.
Classical and concrete sounds, old school styles, blow on heated skin, a pure and fragrant jazz.
This is Freddie Hubbard, a capable, creative, and incredibly delicate trumpeter, the protagonist of decades of excellent music, able to accompany with gentle mastery the sacred monsters of hard bop and be bop, such as Wes Montgomery, Sonny Rollins, John Coltrane, Art Blakey, and Herbie Hancock.
He also worked with Ornette Coleman, thus approaching free jazz.
In the '70s Hubbard enjoyed a certain notoriety, (with albums like "Red Clay" or "First Light") tempered as he was with great artists, but like a leaf blown by the wind, he soon fell into oblivion.
In the background compared to Miles Davis, perhaps because more performer and less experimenter, he refined a soft and generous style, which we find summarized in the excellent "Blue Spirit."
I chose "Blue Spirit" because it embodies the soul of his most successful works and summarizes his frankly recognizable style, charmingly speckled with soul patches, with resilient improvisations, but never over the top. The track that gives the album its name is epic, profound, and the harmony dictated by the clarinet is the most poignant and melancholic that a melody can dictate.
What particularly fascinates me about this piece is the structure, how the theme is conducted, the peripheral pianisms.
"Outer Forces" fully recalls the atmospheres that Chick Corea touched in "Sing - Sobs" and the delightfully pleasant atmosphere akin to Davis' "Birth of the Cool."
More "streetwise," but equally significant "Jodo," imprinting and rhythm fully old school, a true marvel.
"True Colors" is a "talking" piece that is difficult not to fall in love with. I like this soft and so well-structured way of his, the pieces all have such a clear and pleasantly ordered construct.
The sound is always so controlled, contained, it appears relaxed and distant, but is magically full of expressiveness.
Great Freddie.
An artist who left us in silence, shortly before 2009, without much fanfare or tributes,
such as collections that summarized his numerous works (more than a hundred studio recordings), meager mentions in online newspapers and little respect from the majors.
My great pain is being the first to mention something about him on a site that long ago should (could) have honored him through its users too devoted to extolling those already extolled and describing those already well-described or citing those who are often cited. Sometimes, the so-called second lines deserve a crumb of attention for what they have left behind, even if from sidelines or fulfilling tasks.
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