Freddie Hubbard
Straight Life

THE REVIEW

The trumpeter Freddie Hubbard is an authentic Proteus of jazz, thanks to his indescribable ability to adapt to the most diverse musical contexts and instantly overcome enormous stylistic differences between his temporary collaborators. He consistently leaves his mark with biting, precise solos rich in ideas and inventiveness.

The ideal sidekick for both refined hard-bop stylists and the excellent transgressors of the new thing. Browsing through the list of unmissable albums where Hubbard plays is dizzying: Oliver Nelson's "The Blues And The Abstract Truth," Eric Dolphy's "Out to Lunch," Ornette Coleman's "Free Jazz," Wayne Shorter's "Speak No Evil," John Coltrane's "Ascension" ... Surely I've forgotten four or five others of equal importance.

In the early seventies, the record label CTI allowed Hubbard, like some other excellent sidemen, to record albums under his own name, strongly influenced by the nascent fusion movement (which was then called jazz-rock). Many turned up their noses at these works, accusing the musicians involved of needing to fatten their bank accounts rather than having genuine artistic urgencies to merge jazz, rock, and funk. After all, even great artists have to pay the bills...

Listening to them again in hindsight, one discovers very pleasant, honest mainstream jazz records, with electric piano instead of acoustic, and just a sprinkle of funk rhythms to give them a bit of appeal and align them with the tastes of the era. When you go through the list of credits, you can only take off your hat: Joe Henderson on tenor sax; Herbie Hancock on electric piano; George Benson on guitar; Ron Carter on bass; Jack De Johnette on drums. Plus the lesser-known Richard Landrum and Weldon Irvine on percussion.

This work, released in 1971, but available for some time in digitally remastered form at a mid-price, presents as a long, informal jam session, unfolding on the electric piano strides of Hancock, sometimes dancing ("Straight Life") sometimes hypnotic ("Mr.Clean"), and on the imaginative percussive propulsion set up by DeJohnette & co. The fun and pleasure of playing together are palpable. Certainly, here they improvise on a chord plan, no bold experiments: but let's not forget that there's Freddie Hubbard on trumpet and Joe Henderson on sax, particularly in shape and lively, who do not disappoint with outstanding instrumental performances.

Herbie Hancock is the usual wizard of the Fender piano (an undisputed master, along with Corea). Benson's savory and hyper-technical language amazes, reminiscent of Wes Montgomery (to whom he is often compared), light-years away from the soft and polished sounds that will decree his commercial success in the years to come.

The tracks feature oversize timing, like every good seventies record should. Despite the long and pleasant title-track, which alone occupies the first side of the LP, "Mr.Clean" is more convincing, where Hancock and Benson create an oblique and piercing accompaniment for an exhilarating solo by Henderson. To cap it all, Hubbard retrieves his roots and makes his mark with authority in a re-reading of "Here's That Rainy Day."

Very pleasant background music for light activities (but also for straightforward loafing tout court), the ideal soundtrack for a car journey: look for it, you'll listen to it a lot.

Rating: 7/10 rounded down.