Published on Feb 17, 1999
Straight Life really affected me when I first heard it.
There is an atmosphere to it – part adventure, part funk, and some
semi-normal jazz for the infernal purists. A streetwise feel
dominates the first two tracks – improvisation clearly was the
focus rather than side effect. The grooves are so damn solid and
funky that you realize this is not a jazz album at all. As to the
affect…okay, sounds stupid as hell…
Straight Life makes you feel really cool. So not only does
Freddie Hubbard establish a unique atmosphere, he also manages to
take you out of yourself and nearly establish a new attitude.
I shouldn’t give Hubbard all the credit; here’s the highlights
of this incredible lineup…George Benson, Herbie Hancock, Ron
Carter, Joe Henderson, and Jack DeJohnette.
I suppose I should mention that the album only consists of three
tracks. But that’s the nature of this form, and if listeners can
approach it as an adventure it becomes apparent why these are
necessary lengths. Each song is an experience, and goes a long way
to expand the ever decreasing American attention span. It’s also a
nice way to protest the crap that passes for interesting music
these days. Sure it’s 29 years old, but have you noticed how the
vintage stuff sounds so much more vital these days than say Eagle
Eye Cherry or, dare I say it, 3rd Eye Blind (stifle your
giggles!).
The title track clocks in at 17:23, which sounds intimidating;
however, the first trills from Hubbard’s trumpet indicate this will
be a different trip. Impeccable percussion combined with Ron
Carter’s granite-like foundation launches Hubbard into a
surprisingly memorable melody. And that’s the key to
Straight Life: this shit is accessible, you just don’t know
it.
There’s melody here – and it’s in your face funky – rarified by
the controlled fury of the cast. This is the kind of melody that
will remain embedded in your cortex for more than an hour.
“Straight Life” has an almost Latin flavor to it. Henderson’s sax
solo in the first five minutes explores the rhythm, flirting with
the edges of it but remaining strong – then a hint of be-bop
followed by a squeal of agony or whatever it is you want it to
be.
Returning to relaxed vamp on the main theme, Benson begins his
solo with his trademark ultra-tasty runs and hazardous scale work.
His is a sound often imitated, but within this context, it becomes
something completely different. It’s tough.
“Mr. Clean” is a dirge that is part blues and part Miles groove.
Again it is up front in the soundstage, with an ominous twisted
jazz feel hovering in the background. Hancock’s electric piano work
adds a
Bitches Brew feel to the rhythm – but as the album liner
notes say, in contrast to
Bitches Brew, there are no doubled instruments here; no busy
rhythmic textures; these sounds are as immediate and catchy as pop
tunes.
Benson solos over the intro, setting up Hubbard’s entrance. The
melody is almost like a fanfare, with a lilting figure that sounds
so jazzy within the context of the groove. “Mr. Clean” is a modest
13 and a half minutes long, and follows much the same pattern as
“Straight Life”, in that it features opportunities for all the
players to solo over the main theme.
The third track, “Here’s That Rainy Day”, is a standard that
Hubbard, Carter and Benson beautifully recreate on flugelhorn,
bass, and electric guitar respectively. Considering the first two
gritty tracks, this standard is a modest and quiet way to say
goodbye. It’s a soothing take, something that is almost necessary
after the assault of the first two songs.
Hubbard has had his ups and downs as a player, stooping to the
level of smooth jazz with some awful releases in the mid to late
70s and early 80s. In his prime there was a definitive artfulness
about the way he played – he seems to have a natural gift for
melody, and this makes even the long songs on
Straight Life bearable to listeners with a modicum of
perception and interest in music. Fortunately CTI has re-released
Straight Life in a beautifully packaged foldout. This one
comes highly recommended.