Art Blakey & Freddie Hubbard - Feel the Wind

2025

Art Blakey & Freddie Hubbard - Feel The Wind (1989, Timeless Records) ain't your typical late-career jazz album. This one dropped near the end of Blakey's life, and you can kinda hear it. He was going deaf, they say, and while he still swings, there's a slight hesitation in his ride cymbal sometimes. Not bad, just... different. Like he's feeling his way through. But then Freddie Hubbard shows up-and boom. 

Energy shift. Man returns to his Jazz Messenger roots after years messin' with fusion, and honestly? It feels like he needed this. His chops were shaky for a bit, sure, but here-he's fire. Clear, bright tone, no flinch. Plays "Up Jumped Spring" like he wrote it yesterday (he did, back in '67), and "Arietis" (misspelled "Arieties" on the sleeve, classic) is tight, punchy, full of swagger. Dude brought his A-game. The rhythm section's split-two pianos, two basses. Benny Green and Mulgrew Miller both hold it down, but Miller's trio medley later on? That's where things get deep. 

Slow burn ballads leading into a wild "Big Foot" that tears the roof off. Charlie Parker would've nodded hard at that one. Jackson on tenor holds his own too-jumps in with both feet, doesn't back down next to Hubbard. "Feel The Wind," the title track, is funky, almost street-level groovy. Not pure bop, more like post-bop with soul boots on. Hubbard composed it, and it stretches past nine minutes-longest cut here-but never drags. Blakey locks in when the groove hits, forgets his hearing issues for a minute, just drives. You feel it more than hear it, maybe. Now, not all gold. "Embraceable You" tries to be dramatic, ends up a bit overcooked. Piano licks are flashy, but where's the tenderness? Gershwin probably rolled over once. And the dual rhythm teams, while cool in theory, make the album feel slightly disjointed. Feels like two sessions glued together-which, well, it was. Still, hearing these cats-the old lion and the prodigal son-lock horns again? Worth every skip in the vinyl. Hubbard revitalized. Blakey, even fading, still commands. This ain't peak Jazz Messengers, nah. But it's real. Human. A little rough, yeah, but honest. Funny thing is, this came out after Blakey died. October 1990. So technically, one of his last statements. Kinda hits different knowing that. Like a farewell wave nobody saw coming.