From The Complete Blue Note Sixties Sessions Box Set Liner Notes (1998)
I am a big fan of Herbie Hancock. I have always liked his music and his sound. Unlike most writers on jazz, I will tell you about my experiences with the sound and music of Herbie Hancock. It was 1978, and I was a freshman in college at a big music school. There were hundreds of musicians polishing their skills at this school, mostly jazz-oriented, and as one became a part of the scene, the rituals of all aspiring jazz musicians came to be earned. One ritual is that of discovery; where you find something in a recording or at a performance that takes you to another level of understanding. Another is learning tunes and defining your direction by studying the music that interests you.
My first “discovery” was when Pat Coil (who lived down the hall in the dorm) had Sextant on his stereo. The sound was amazing. Pat’s only attempt to define this music to me (as a courtesy) was to say “Herbie”. That night, hanging out at San Riney’s house, the turntable exploded With Miles Davis’s “My Funny Valentine”. When the title track came up, Sam listened to the first few notes of the piano intro, closed his eyes and just said “Herbie….” The very next day, my best friend at that time (Mike Lotz, a talented pianist), played something on his stereo, looked at me with a smug hipness and asked the question “Who’s that?” All I knew was one word that would make me or break me in the world of college hipness, and I quietly said “Herbie.” Mike was shocked. I was now “in”. Clearly, I had to find out more about this Herbie guy.
I had also learned another tried and true jazz ritual; the “blindfold test.” It became a true test of knowledge if one could identify a jazz artist based on aural evidence only. To get better at this art of identification, I soon learned how to discern various stylistic traits of my growing stable of favorite artists. Pretty soon, my peers and I were rushing to the record stores, buying up LPs that had that magic name, the cat you dug and wanted to know more about. This leads us to Ritual Number Four – the intense study of one particular jazz artist via recordings. I knew cats who went on Coltrane fetishes, Miles binges, Billy Cobham drum fests and, (if you were really in), Sonny Clark songbook rehearsals. Then you started a ‘band’ that copied exactly the sound of your recent fetish, and now you were really in.
I played the tenor saxophone as a major instrument in school. But I have played piano since the age of three. So I would moonlight as a pianist (my nickname was “Hammerhands”). I love the piano. It is a perfect instrument; a primary instrument at the core of musical creation, the sounding board for ideas. My taste in music was shaped by my freshman year of high school, and I sought the sound that satisfied my curiosity and gave my soul something too. So when I started hearing the word “Herbie…” over and over from musicians that I respected, I sought out all of Mr. Hancock’s recordings; at first to satisfy an unquenchable thirst for his sound, and then, as my library grew (of Herbie performances both as a leader and sideman), I began to appreciate Herbie’s art on another level. I found something totally enjoyable in his music; as a soloist, an accompanist, a composer and arranger.
When do people come to the music of Herbie Hancock? For most of my generation, it was the 1974 hit “Chameleon”, which made Herbie a household name to the general music public, and hundreds of covers (disco, big band, Celtic, you name it) followed. Herbie was on top. His output during the seventies and eighties was staggering. After his band Headhunters reached a peak, Herbie created V.S.O.P., an all-acoustic quintet that helped spur the renewed interest in mainstream jazz during the heyday of fusion. “Rockit” was a huge hit on the dance scene and crossed over into the top ten in 1983. In 1986, the soundtrack to the movie Round Midnight earned Herbie an Oscar! But behind this wave of popularity is the story of an artist whose success hid the hard work, unending curiosity and pure genius.
Herbert Jeffery Hancock was born in Chicago on April 12, 1940. He told Leonard Feather (included in the liner notes to his first album), “My parents are not professional musicians but my father is a bathtub singer and my mother tinkers around on piano. I was always interested in music as a very young child, and began music lessons at seven. Four years later I performed with the Chicago Symphony Orchestra.” He attended Hyde Park High School, and formed his first jazz group which gigged around Chicago. After graduation, he decided to attend Grinnell College in the heartland of Iowa. At first, he was an engineering student, but the musician in him took over, and soon he changed his major to music and graduated in June 196O with a degree in music composition. With his sheepskin in hand, Herbie headed back to Chicago.
Chicago in 1960 was the second largest city in America. A robust mid-western city with a touch of the frontier, Chicago was a mecca to many people looking to improve their lives. People of all races and cultures would migrate to the Windy City for work in factories and mills, stockyards and businesses. Large, segregated neighborhoods evolved into completely independent communities. The South Side of Chicago was Black America, it was Urban America: clubs and bars on every corner, a reflection of the people who lived there and the conditions they lived in. The North Side was the opposite, largely white, and no corner bars. In between was the “Loop,” the Tenderloin district. The jazz scene in Chicago was small but steady. Jam sessions, some club gigs and the occasional recording session.
Upon returning from school, Herbie got a job as a mailman but soon he quit the job and began to make the rounds as a young jazz pianist for hire. He told Feather, “My first gig with a name group was a two week engagement in Chicago with Coleman Hawkins.” (This was at the Bird House in September 1960). His reputation was spreading fast. Donald Byrd was booked into the Bird House over the Christmas holidays and suddenly was confronted by a homesick Duke Pearson. Duke split to Atlanta, and Donald was without his pianist. So John Coat, the club owner, was quizzed as to who would be available and who could “cut” the gig. Mr. Coat suggested two pianists Denny Zeitlin, who at the time was a student at Northwestern University, and Herbie Hancock, who had just moved back to town and had been impressive backing up Coleman Hawkins. The club owner briefly outlined each musicians style, and for reasons only known to God, Donald said, “Herbie…”
This angelic figure of a club owner also had a state-of-the-art two track tape recorder and two microphones installed on the bandstand. The rehearsal was taped, and it reveals (on “French Spice”, which I have heard) an immediate rapport with the music, sight reading prowess and complete confidence beyond his 21 years. For some reason, this was a magic moment caught on tape; when Herbie’s playing impressed Donald Byrd so much that he ‘fired’ Duke Pearson and hired Herbie on the spot to join Pepper Adams, Laymon Jackson and Lex Humphries. Down Beat magazine was at the Birdhouse in the person of Don DeMichael, who in his prophetic review stated, “Byrd has come up with what may be a major piano find in 21-year-old Herbie Hancock, he showed brilliance in both technique and conception.” Herbie was headed for New York.
As soon as Herbie arrived in the Bronx (where he lived with Donald Byrd), he was in the studio making his first professional recording session. Ironically, the label was Warwick, an odd, unorganized (well… not the owners) record company. Teddy Charles, a talented vibraphonist. was hired as an A&R man, and Teddy offered Pepper Adams a deal. Pepper accepted and hired Donald, Herbie and Laymon to accompany him. Jimmy Cobb was on drums. Out of This World (Pepper Adams, Warwick LP-2041) was released to no great acclaim, but it was an auspicious debut for Herbie. Recorded was “Curro’s” (later recorded as French Spice”), “Mr. Lucky” and “I’m An Old Cowhand, three staples of the Byrd bandbook. (“Curro’s” and “I’m An Old Cowhand” would be re-recorded by Byrd with Herbie for Blue Note).
Working with Donald Byrd gave Herbie quick entry into the jazz Scene in New York. “Herbie worked with Phil and Quill at the Half Note right after he came to town,” remembers Phil Woods. He took care of business. He was the first young cat who had it all together; he was fully equipped musically to do everything, and the last of his generation not to be confined to wholly academic standards.” He enrolled-at Byrd’s suggestion-at the Manhattan School Of Music and studied briefly with Vittorio Giannini. On April 17, 1961 Herbie entered the studio for Blue Note Records for the first time as pianist on a Donald Byrd session. For some reason, this session was not released until 1979 (as Donald Byrd’s Chant, Blue Note LT-991). On the date was Pepper Adams, Herbie, Doug Watkins on bass and Teddy Robinson on drums, and this group recorded “I’m An Old Cowhand” (the same arrangement as on the Pepper Adams Warwick album) and “Cute’ (which had been recorded by Byrd on his album The Cat Walk)
Soon the Donald Byrd group was out on the road, with Pepper Adams, Herbie, Teddy Robinson and Cleveland Eaton on bass. The band was recorded verite style at Jorgie’s Jazz Club in St. Louis, on the night of June 24, 1961. In the late seventies, an album was released from this evening, and the group was performing music that would eventually end up on Donald Byrd’s next Blue Note recording session (“Jorgie’s”, “Hush, and “6 Ms”). Also included on this LP is a trio track, with Herbie, Cleveland and Teddy performing Herbie’s arrangement of “Like Someone In Love”. (Introducing the trio, Donald reveals Herbie’s nickname at the time: “Oatmeal.”) Herbie is confident and swinging.
On September 21, 1961, The Donald Byrd Quintet entered Rudy Van Gelder’s New Jersey studio to record the album Royal Flush (BN-4101). This was Herbie’s first appearance on a Blue Note recording released (in late 1962) to the public. In the studio were Pepper, Herbie, Butch Warren on bass and Billy Higgins on drums. Herbie’s first original composition to be recorded was “Requiem” from this session. This was Donald’s working band into 1962.
Less than three months later, on December 11, 1961, Byrd again entered the Van Gelder studio to record for Blue Note. Wayne Shorter-then the tenor soloist with Art Blakey-and Herbie recorded together for the first time on this session. Butch Warren and Billy Higgins returned. The recording was released as Free Form (BN-4118), and it clearly shows that Herbie had found his own sound and voice. The interaction between Herbie and Donald Byrd is uncanny. Byrd states in the liner notes that he’s “sure Herbie’s going to be very important.” Herbie’s “Three Wishes” was recorded on that session, but was mot released until 1979.
Herbie had absorbed and amended many of his early influences into a unique and brilliant style. His head was turned around by Art Blakey’s Hard Bop album (Columbia CL-104O) and soon he was under the spell of Horace Silver, Wynton Kelly and the school of Bud Powell. He found inspiration in Bill Evans and Ahmad Jamal, (Byrd had even commented in the liner notes to Royal Flush that Herbie, “sounds almost like a combination of Bill Evans, Ahmad Jamal and Hank Jones”) and his touch became more refined and sensitive. When he first played with Byrd – Donald must have heard this connection – it was immediate and effective. The drive of Bud Powell, the buoyancy of Wynton Kelly, the romanticism of Bill Evans and the funkiness of Horace Silver. No wonder everyone likes him.
Donald and Herbie joined up with the Al Grey-Billy Mitchell group for a live recording at the jazz club Birdland on the night of January 31, 1962. Trombonist Grey and tenor saxophonist Mitchell had a popular group at the time which included Herman Wright on bass, Eddie Williams on drums and a young vibist from California who was moving to New York with this gig. His name was Bobby Hutcherson, and Bobby and Herbie would become musical soulmates from that day forward. Snap Your Fingers (Argo/Cadet 700) as released does not reveal much in the way of memorable Hancock solos (or even Hutcherson solos), but it is Herbie’s first session as a freelance sideman. – Bob Belden, 1998