Jackie McLean's Let Freedom Ring

This album, as the title suggests, is veering toward free jazz, though never completely abandoning a bop structure. Of course, in the turbulent period of 1960s America, as the Black Freedom Struggle and changes across the globe took place, the album's title could also be a reference to Black freedom, similar to Sonny Rollins' Freedom Suite. I love it for the screechy wails and squeals capable of expressing joy, anger, contemplation, and freedom itself. Colemanesque blowing from McLean's alto sax and Billy Higgins' propulsive, marching forward drumming on "Melody for Melonae," a song for McLean's daughter, make it the highlight of the album. Although not as strong of an album as Destination Out, which received composing help from Grachan Moncur III, Let Freedom Ring is my second favorite McLean album so far. Though I dislike the head or melody of "Melody for Melonae," which sounds too militaristic and almost classical, the irresistible, propulsive rhythms and McClean's quasi-free soloing make it great. The pianist gets some wiggle room, too, almost sounding like Horace Silver to me although not playing the blues or hard bop.   In some respects, McClean matches his playing on "Pithecanthropus Erectus," a Charles Mingus song.

Bud Powell's ballad, "I'll Keep On Loving You," though beautiful and composed by a friend of McLean, is not as stirring of a ballad as McLean's performance on Mingus's "Profile of Jackie" from Pithecanthropus Erectus. The next song, "Rene," composed for McLean's son, is much stronger as well as slightly touched by the freedom of jazz from the bop limits, but more joyous than "Melody for Melonae" and more boppish in McLean's soloing, but retaining Higgins' boisterous and catchy drumming. The pianist does get a nice quote of a famous swing-era standard in, too, though I must admit that I cannot remember (Count Basie or Duke Ellington, I think). "Omega," aptly titled as the last song on the album, is named for his mother and more free-leaning, with a fascinating bassline building the song and Higgins, playing similarly to his playing on "Melody for Melonae," escapes boredom. When McClean, playing the higher registers, sounding like an atonal flute, my heart skipped a beat, but he is obviously no Coleman. Regardless, "Omega" marks McLeans adaptability and shows his music as a bridge, between hard bop and avant garde and free movements in 1960s jazz. Without Moncur III, however, his weaker composing talent hinders the album but his upper-register screams are delightful to my ears and reminiscent of his earlier work.