Hank Mobley was a perfect artist for Blue Note in the 1960s. A distinctive but not dominant soloist, Mobley was also a very talented writer whose compositions avoided the predictable yet could often be quite melodic and soulful; his tricky originals consistently inspired the young all-stars in Blue Note's stable. For this CD, which is a straight reissue of a 1965 session, Mobley is joined by trumpeter Lee Morgan, trombonist Curtis Fuller, pianist McCoy Tyner, bassist Bob Cranshaw, and drummer Billy Higgins (a typically remarkable Blue Note lineup) for the infectious title cut, three other lesser-known but superior originals, plus Wayne Shorter's "Venus Di Mildew." Recommended.
While not as groundbreaking as A Caddy For Daddy, Dippin' or Soul Station, Flip is nonetheless a solid hard groove date for Mobley, who wrote all five of its selections. Flip is Mobley's second-to-last date, and he cut the session in a Paris studio with trombonist Slide Hampton, trumpeter Dizzy Reece, pianist Vince Benedetti, Philly Joe Jones on drums, and a young French bassist named Alby Cullaz. All but Cullaz and Reece were expatriated Americans. (Reece came to Paris from New York, but is Jamaican). The title track opens the set and it lays deep in the soul-jazz cut, tempered by hard bop sensibilities: the solos by Reece, Hampton, and Mobley are top-notch, but it is Benedetti's muscular comping and blues-wailing piano that drives the tune…
Why any critic would think that Hank Mobley was at the end of his creative spark in 1963 - a commonly if stupidly held view among the eggheads who do this for a living - is ridiculous, as this fine session proves. By 1963, Mobley had undergone a transformation of tone. Replacing the scintillating airiness of his late-'50s sides was a harder, more strident, almost honking one, due in part to the influence of John Coltrane and in part to Mobley's deeper concentration on the expressing blues feeling in his trademark hard bop tunes. The CD version of this album sets the record straight, dropping some tunes form a session months earlier and replacing them with alternate takes of the title cut and "Carolyn" for historical integrity, as well as adding "Syrup and Biscuits" and "Comin' Back"…
Often overlooked, perhaps because he wasn't a great innovator in jazz but merely a stellar performer, tenor saxophonist Hank Mobley was at the peak of his powers on Soul Station. Recorded with a superstar quartet including Art Blakey on drums, Paul Chambers on bass, and Wynton Kelly on piano, it was the first album since Mobley's 1955 debut to feature him as a leader without any other accompanying horns. The clean, uncomplicated sound that resulted from that grouping helps make it the best among his albums and a peak moment during a particularly strong period in his career. Mobley has no problem running the show here, and he does it without being flashy or burying the strong work of his sidemen…
Why any critic would think that Hank Mobley was at the end of his creative spark in 1963 - a commonly if stupidly held view among the eggheads who do this for a living - is ridiculous, as this fine session proves. By 1963, Mobley had undergone a transformation of tone. Replacing the scintillating airiness of his late-'50s sides was a harder, more strident, almost honking one, due in part to the influence of John Coltrane and in part to Mobley's deeper concentration on the expressing blues feeling in his trademark hard bop tunes. The CD version of this album sets the record straight, dropping some tunes form a session months earlier and replacing them with alternate takes of the title cut and "Carolyn" for historical integrity, as well as adding "Syrup and Biscuits" and "Comin' Back"…
Count yourself fortunate to get your hands on this session, originally released on Blue Note, and not simply for the incredibly hip photo of Mobley on the cover. On this Toshiba-EMI International reissue, the liner notes are in Japanese, the audio is merely ”good” (undoubtedly a Van Gelder remastering would provide more presence to both piano and drums), and the front line is probably unknown to many listeners. But in terms of the program, and the execution by the ensemble, as well as the performances of individual soloists, this eponymously titled album belongs with some of Mobley's best sessions.