Blakey walked the walk, spending time during this period on West Africa, and taking the indiginous name of "Abdullah Ibn Buhaina" - later more commonly shortened, simply, to "Bu."
But his fierce, uncompromising records only heralded a flying-leap period of experimentation by jazz musicians that went even further away from European musical traditions in the latter half of the 1960s - a no-chords/no-compass approach personified by the sheets-of-sound recordings by John Coltrane, and mirroring the flights of fancy by signature pop artists of the day like the Beatles.
But before that came this period of sharp-witted, still vibrant recordings by guys like Blakey - a loving, if aggressive, look back into the roots of black music.
The exit of Lee Morgan, followed by the quick introduction and steady maturation of Hubbard and Fuller, confirmed Blakey's place — even then — as one of the top finishing schools for young jazz minds. It's a role he would play into the 1980s, with final lineups that featured Wynton and Branford Marsalis, and then Terence Blanchard and Donald Harrison.
Bassist Reggie Workman appears for the first time with the Jazz Messengers here, but it's Walton also takes this album to places — notably on the extended title piece — that the departed Bobby Timmons couldn't have dreamed. Blakey found a way, even on transitional albums, to improve.
They're still discovering their true voices, but yet also finding ways to dazzle. Mosaic, which preceded this one in 1961, and the subsequent 1964 album Free For All, both on Blue Note, are similar, nearly perfect polyrhythmic gems.
A high-water period for a band that had many.
Original producer Orrin Keepnews, who has supervised a new reissue of Caravan, also included alternate takes on both "Thermo" and "Sweet 'n' Sour."
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