Herbie Hancock

Herbie Hancock has always seemed to be everywhere at once. As a young man, he became the jazz pianist of choice for the best jazz groups—often concurrently—and he has remained one of the most popular jazz players, with both musicians and the public, ever since. Unquestionably one of the most important pianists in 20th century jazz, he was playing with the Chicago Symphony Orchestra at the age of 11. He switched to jazz while in college and never looked back.

After shooting to fame in the jazz world, Hancock quickly developed his own style of playing. His particular way of phrasing and improvising exerted great influence among jazz pianists, and continues to do so. Young pianists still steal his licks. After releasing a series of important post-bop releases that used musical modes instead of traditional chords (such as on the masterful 1965 recording "Maiden Voyage”), he shifted directions and began to experiment with an electric sound, a move that provoked controversy in the then rather traditional-minded world of jazz. Listeners and musicians were just not ready for the funky, electric blend that Hancock started playing.

While backing important innovators such as Miles Davis, Hancock had already moved into freer and more electric styles of jazz. On his own recordings, he became fascinated with electronic keyboards, soulful mixes and wilder rhythms. This new early-70s sound also caught the ear of the newly emerging base of rock fans, most famously with the loud, funky "Headhunters"recording. The jazz world was shocked at Hancock's weird synthesizers, fat bass lines and incredible looseness.

Hancock has always followed his own muse and eventually that led him back to the delicate piano touch, neat rhythms and controlled sense of cool of his early style. Since the mid-70s, he has navigated back and forth between the good-time feel of electric funk-jazz and the pristine sound of progressive acoustic jazz. Recently, he has recorded acoustic piano tributes to George Gershwin and a very progressive tribute to John Coltrane and Miles Davis. He has also been open to the newest musical trends, recording with hip-hop singers, neo-funk musicians and more and better synthesizers. 

Two years ago, in addition to his other projects, Hancock took on the directorship of an entire festival, Tokyo Jazz. He chose the bands, organized the sets and sat in with nearly everyone. Last summer between the festival and his next show a day later, he took time to talk with Michael Pronko about the Tokyo Jazz festival, his interest in Buddhism and the message of jazz.

You said on stage during your most recent concert that you feel music is a special language. What did you mean by that?

I meant that music is a language that transcends all boundaries. It can go many places without limitations. I want to find a way where different kinds of music and different kinds of musicians can get together. This whole concept of the "super-unit"at the Tokyo Jazz festival was aimed at getting beyond the fact that one group was a hip-hop band or another group was African. The groups all come from completely different genres. I wanted to bring all these different genres together somehow and let them talk. On one stage, we had Youssou N'Dour from Senegal and Chaka Kahn with her R&B roots together in the context of jazz. Chaka Kahn is just great, because she can sing anything, not just R&B. [Saxophonist] Joshua Redman was creating something new that was most definitely electric jazz, but also covered a lot of different territories, rock, bop and avant-garde. Then there was Naoko Terai on violin with her sound, which has a little classical in it together with the jazz. Yet, we can all be on stage playing the music together and talking to each other.

You mean that although the musicians all speak in their own language, it still makes sense?

It all comes together. Each person can be using the particular genre that they have chosen for their expression, but yet onstage together it all combines very nicely. That was the whole idea of the "super-unit."But, it isn't just a mixture that turns muddy. Everyone on stage together does not mean they are simply blending into some unclear mix where they lose their individuality. Instead, by bringing all their distinct sounds together, they create a broader expression than if they were just playing alone. They demonstrate the tapestry that music is capable of creating. The tapestry has all these different threads woven in, but you can still pick them out.

It seems there's something a little mischievous about your trying to get beyond the rigidity of musical genres?

That's exactly right, it is a little mischievous. The genres really become limiting. I want to set things up so that the end result is a broader piece of music than it would be by sticking to just one style. I really feel that music should be a broad expression that opens up and becomes truly boundless. With everyone together on stage in this way, the music can continue to unfold. It isn't limited in any way and becomes an expression of the infinite.

So, this open, holistic view of music creates more excitement?

And it brings in more people. Though, the big group is a great example of global musical pursuits, there's also a practical side. The other thing we wanted to satisfy is the realization that the jazz audience is getting older, to be honest. If we don't do anything to encourage the development of a new audience, then eventually there will be no audience and what would be the purpose of the music? In order to bring in various age groups and various interests, we can create this new environment with different tastes in music. That can and should go beyond the core of straight jazz. Even though the festival audience is comprised of people who may be there for just one particular group, they can hear something surprising. The interest of someone in the audience may not have been anything but one single artist. However, at the festival, they get a chance to see that person they came to hear in the context of these other artists that they may not have known about. By hearing many different musicians on stage, the audience has a chance to experience something that would not have been achievable in any other way.

How do you work with so many musicians, all of them up on the stage together?

We had some kind of rehearsal [laughs]. We talked about what we might want to do and how we might construct it. Rather than just have a big jam session, though, that would have been too easy, we wanted to set down two or three different foundations. We talked beforehand about any number of things, like dropping the basses out and just letting the drums keep going. Then, we could have vocalists moving in and out. The instrumental solos would come in with maybe just one short statement or a longer improvised passage. We had a hip-hop group that could do rhymes, in free-style. Those guys are able to improvise with words, but always building on the rhythm. They were even able to rap to 6/8 rhythm. I never heard that before! Usually, they stick to 4/4 because any rhythm in three is really difficult to stay on top of with words. I love hearing what happens with a foundation where jazz soloists stretch the harmonic content of those songs. And then after that, the vocals come in on the same rhythmic and harmonic foundation to add rhyme. The jazz base makes the rhymes stand out more than if there was a hip-hop backing. Everything just enhances the next thing.

It must be very different working with your more traditional trio compared to this huge super-unit group?

In the particular case of the trio, we hone in on a particular genre that is more hard-core jazz. But, even within that genre, there are so many ways we can take the music. Moving between those two is interesting. After the intensity and focus of the trio, the super-unit is like stepping back and getting a broader view of things. For the super-unit, I can't simply rely on the other musicians to keep things going without a little direction. I'm supposed to be the musical director, after all. I have to, on the fly, create a structure that includes all these different styles and musicians. I don't tell them completely what I am going to do beforehand. I just wait to feel what should happen and then wait for the right moment. It creates more colors. People know when things are overly prepared ahead of time. With the bigger group, though, they never know what to expect. Also, they know the musicians don't know what to expect, because they've never played together in that particular configuration. It makes the audience feel a part of something being developed in the moment. They really respond to the spontaneity.

I know you have a deep interest in Buddhism, does that connect to your ideas on being in the moment in music?

I've been practicing Buddhism for thirty years now. I think that my understanding of Buddhism has deeply influenced this concept of togetherness on the stage. The idea is really about resolving differences between these genres of music. It's also about seeing the bigger picture of the human family. We are utilizing the fact that we can express ourselves on the same stage in the same framework and create something magical and exciting and unexpected.

What other similarities do jazz and Buddhism share?

I've discovered many characteristics that are associated with jazz have a direct parallel with Buddhism. Being in the moment is very important. Maybe it is the most important thing since that provides the spontaneity for improvising. Also, like Buddhism, jazz is really non-competitive. There is all this sharing involved between the musicians working together. Even in the past, when they had the battle of the trumpets, say, they're not really battling each other. They're having fun. Even when they were "cutting"each other in jam sessions, there was always a lot of exchange and support. My experience with jazz is that musicians never hide what they're doing. They're always interested in sharing. One thing that jazz musicians realize inherently is that there is no way to give it all away to someone else. Your ideas can't be stolen. The ideas that you share are like a catalyst. When jazz musicians play together, there is a sense of merging with others, so that the whole is greater than the sum of its parts. When you play together, your playing becomes a launching pad for the others to get more and more into the expression of their own inner individuality. Sharing musically also shows the great respect that musicians of all sorts have for each other and for their individual style of expressing themselves. They respect that unique individuality. Buddhism is very much into that also, realizing that each human being has something to bring to the table of life, that only he or she can bring. What they bring is a kind of offering.

So for you the music is a very giving thing, a kind of offering?

Absolutely. For me, it's very giving, always. That doesn't mean necessarily that it's giving IN to the audience, though. Of course, we are servants of the people, but giving in too much would be like kowtowing to whatever the audience wants at some particular moment. That would mean giving in too much to the trendy thing or the easy thing. In other words, giving in would be giving them what they already have. Why would you want to do that? If you have something to deliver that is a fresh experience for them, then it's a gift. If the music is new, then it's giving something that they don't already have. That is a little difficult to do sometimes because the audience can't request what they don't already have, because they don't know what it is yet. They have to hear it first, then they know.

So, as a musician, you are always thinking of what the audience might want that you can give?

It's not even so much what they might want. Hopefully it's what they might need. I don't want to be presumptuous about knowing what every listener might need. I don't. But what I feel good about is that I have an urge that comes from my own sincerity that I want to share with people. Sincerity is very powerful. As long as this urge comes from deep in my own heart and it really comes from the perspective of sincerity, then that cannot fail to touch another human being. Whether they like it or not. They might not like what I'm doing on stage, but the fact that they don't like it doesn't mean it's bad or that it shouldn't touch them in some way. We would never experience anything if we didn't sometimes experience something that at one moment we may reject, but years later we may have a totally different attitude about. It takes time.

Is that the same for you when you listen to new or different kinds of music?

Well, it was that way. I remember, when I was a kid, I didn't like jazz. I heard it, but I didn't understand it. It made no sense to me and so it wasn't attractive. I liked listening to other things. A lot of the response to music has to do with timing and development. If you hear it at the wrong time, you don't get it, but then you hear it later and it connects. I've seen young kids respond to jazz without having any prior connection to it at all. They hear jazz for the first time, and they open up. At that moment, it just happens to touch them.

What is it particularly that touches them do you think?

I'm not sure, but I think the hidden message underneath jazz is about freedom. I think part of the reason jazz is so popular for example in Japan is perhaps because there are so many things in Japan that are very structured. There seems to be a rule for everything. I've seen all these people, businessman, of course, but really all sorts of people, going out every night to party. When they go out to start partying, they can just let all the rules go. They can just let it all go. But letting go can also be found in the music. A strong sense of freedom is already inside the music of jazz. That sense of freedom and letting go is one of the most important things that attract people to jazz. You never know what will be played. Jazz creates this space that people enter into, where they can find freedom and follow it in a very intimate and very personal way.

(Originally published in Winds June 2004)