Welcome to the Deep Dive, where we take the complexity
of a massive multi -decade career and try to
boil it down to the essential, fascinating, and
sometimes... wildly unexpected takeaways. And
today we are immersing ourselves in the life
and sound of a musician, a composer, a band leader
who didn't just define modern jazz. He then sort
of casually redefined funk, electro and hip hop
right after. We are, of course, talking about
Herbert Jeffrey Hancock, born April 12th, 1940.
And if you need, you know, just a quick metric
to understand the sheer weight of his talent,
look no further than a 2024 ranking from the
Daily Telegraph. I saw this one. They named him
flat out. the greatest keyboard player of all
time. Of all time. That's pretty high bar. It
is. And that's the kind of legacy of continuous
innovation we're tasked with unpacking today.
So that's our mission for this deep dive. We're
going to trace that almost unbelievable arc from
a classical prodigy to a post -bop architect
in, I mean, the most famous jazz quintet of the
20th century. And then all the way through to
him just blowing up the whole concept of jazz
by embracing synthesizers and, you know, crossing
over to the global pop charts. It's really about
his philosophy, this constant restless drive.
And how that mind, which was equally good at
engineering and improvisation, just continuously
redefined what a keyboard could even do in modern
music. Right. Whether it was an acoustic piano
or a wall of synthesizers. And we'll definitely
be hitting some of those foundational compositions.
I mean, they're basically part of the language
of jazz now. Standards like cantaloupe island,
watermelon man, maiden voyage. And of course.
These aren't just songs. They're more like architectural
blueprints for entire genres. Okay, so let's
unpack the foundation of this genius. Hancock
was born in Chicago, Illinois. His parents, Winnie
Bell, a secretary, and Wayman Edward Hancock,
a meat inspector. They named him after the singer
and actor Herb Jeffries. But the critical starting
point, the thing that really informs everything
else, is the classical training. Right from the
very beginning. Absolutely. Like a lot of the
great jazz pianists of his generation, thinking
of giants like Keith Jarrett or Chick Corea,
he started young, classical piano lessons at
age seven. But the label Child Prodigy for Hancock,
it wasn't just hype. No, not at all. He had the
documentation, you know, to prove it. At the
incredible age of 11 on February 5, 1952, he
wasn't just playing in a little recital. No,
this is the big leagues. He performed the first
movement of Mozart's Piano Concerto No. 26 in
D major, K5 -Z7, the famous Coronation Concerto.
With the Chicago Symphony Orchestra? With the
CSO. I mean, that is an enormous stage for a
preteen. It requires not just the technique,
but a really profound understanding of classical
structure. And that experience, that really instills
in him this... foundational understanding of
musical architecture, precision, which he would
later just apply to the fluidity of jazz. But
the academic side gives us an equally important
clue to his later mastery of electronics. He
went to Hyde Park High School and then graduated
from Grinnell College in 1960. And this is the
part that always gets me. He walks out of college
not just with a music degree. Right. But with
degrees in both music and electrical engineering.
Electrical engineering. And this is not just
a footnote. No, we cannot stress this enough.
That engineering background seems to inform his
fascination, his quick adoption, and then his
eventual mastery of electronic instruments decades
down the line. It's the perfect combination.
It really is. You have the structure of circuits
on one hand and the fluidity of sound waves on
the other. It creates a mind that sees music
not just as notes, but as systems, as patterns,
as programmable sonic colors. A mind that understands
how things work. and therefore how they can be
broken and rebuilt. Exactly. And just to put
a physical stamp on that engineering mind early
on, we should probably mention the car. Ah, yes.
Yeah. The famous 1963 AC Shelby Cobra. Precisely.
So this kid who just graduated with an engineering
degree moves to New York and in 1963 buys a brand
new Shelby Cobra for $6 ,000. It's serial number
CSX 2006, the sixth Cobra ever produced. The
sixth one. And the fact that he still owns it
today, which makes him the longest continuous
owner of a Cobra, that says so much about the
value he places on mechanism, history, and perfection.
It's like a physical manifestation of the structure
and precision that defines his classical and
his engineering roots. Totally. A phenomenal
detail. But during those college years, you know,
he didn't have a formal jazz teacher. He was
self -taught, just absorbing everything by ear.
And that reliance on the ear over formal instruction,
that's so crucial. For sure. He was just soaking
in the giants, the aggressive rhythms of hard
bop from Art Blakey's Jazz Messengers, the coolness
of Miles Davis's Birth of the Cool, and, of course,
the intricate piano playing of Bill Evans, George
Shearing, Errol Garner, Oscar Peterson. It was
a rigorous, self -curated education. harmonic
aha moment the one that unlocked his signature
harmonic sound it came from a place completely
outside of the jazz world absolutely the turning
point wasn't a horn player it wasn't a famous
jazz pianist it was this highly sophisticated
vocal group the high lows and their arranger
Claire Fisher that's amazing why the high lows
specifically What was he hearing there that he
wasn't getting from, say, Bill Evans? He was
hearing density and ambiguity. Fisher's arrangements
used what Hancock called much farther out voicings.
Farther out voicings. OK, so. What does that
actually mean for a pianist? Well, in jazz terms,
it means moving beyond the simple, you know,
the root, third, fifth structures. The basics.
Exactly, the basics. He started using things
like chordal harmonies chords built on intervals
of fourths, or these really complex, often rootless
voicings that just sort of float above the underlying
harmony. So he heard that in their vocal arrangements.
Right. The Heilers used these tight, complex
vocal cluster chords, and Hancock realized...
he could translate that dense, shimmering quality
to the piano. That's the signature sound you
hear on albums like Speak Like a Child. It gave
his music this sophisticated, almost cinematic
quality that was pretty rare in hard bop at the
time. That's a powerful insight. It really confirms
he was always a synthesis, right? Taking these
disparate parts, classical structure, vocal harmony,
engineering, and just integrating them into his
own unique thing. And he did try some formal
composition study briefly with Vittorio Giannini
in New York in 1960. But it was brief. Very brief.
And he also cited the relatively unknown Chicago
pianist Chris Anderson as his harmonic guru just
after hearing him play once in 1960. Wow. It
just shows that his ear was so refined he could
absorb this profound career changing insight
from a single session. So all of this grounding
leads directly to his professional debut. He
moves back to Chicago after college, works with
some huge figures like Donald Byrd and Coleman
Hawkins. Yeah. And then he lands his first major
record deal. That was the album taken off for
Blue Note Records in 1962, a really confident
swinging debut. But the key track on there was
his composition Watermelon Man. A monster hit.
Huge success. It crossed into the pop landscape
when it became a hit single for the Latin jazz
conga player Mongo Santa Maria. But the truly
critical moment wasn't the hit single itself.
It wasn't the commercial success. It was the
listener it attracted. Exactly. Taken off and
the melodic strength of Watermelon Man caught
the attention of Miles Davis. Who at that very
moment was in the process of dismantling his
existing band and putting together what would
become the second great quintet. It was a direct
consequence of that early mastery. The success
of that debut track didn't just get him attention.
It got him the most coveted job in jazz, a job
that would fundamentally change the course of
jazz history and his own artistic direction forever.
OK, so as we move into part two, we're in 1963.
This is a pivot point not just for Hancock, but
really for the entire progression of jazz. Miles
Davis seeks him out in May of 63, recognizing
him as one of the most promising talents. And
maybe one of the only pianists willing to break
the rules Miles wanted to break. And what Miles
put together was, by all accounts, one of the
greatest rhythm sections in the history of the
music. No question. It was Hancock on piano,
Ron Carter on bass, and a 17 -year -old Tony
Williams on drums. Just incredible. And when
Wayne Shorter joined on tenor saxophone, the
second great quintet was fully formed. They were
just a great band, though. They fundamentally
changed the language of the music. The sources
all confirmed this rhythm section. Hancock, Carter,
and Williams were the primary architects of the
post -bop sound. And this is where we need to
slow down and really define what post -bop even
means. Hard bop, the style Miles had previously
mastered. It relied on these defined chord changes
and a steady swing. Right. Post -bop, which this
quintet pioneered, was characterized by radical
freedom. They moved away from fixed, predetermined
chord sequences. They were using modal structures
and they embraced rhythmic displacement. Rhythmic
displacement. That's the key interaction, isn't
it? It's everything. Tony Williams, despite his
age, was a revolutionary. He wasn't just keeping
time. He was actively breaking it up, constantly
providing rhythmic commentary. And Rainn Carter.
His bass lines became melodic and mobile, not
just playing the root notes for support. And
Hancock sat right in the middle, using that harmonic
ambiguity, those Claire Fisher voicings, to allow
the music to just shift direction suddenly. So
the whole rhythm section was acting like three
independent but hyper -aware voices. Exactly.
Constantly reacting, constantly challenging each
other. It created a sound that was fluid and
interactive rather than structured and repetitive.
That concept of constant interaction must have
been, I mean... Exhausting, but also incredibly
fertile for Hancock's compositional mind. Immensely
fertile. His style under Miles evolved so rapidly,
he moved away from that busy block chord style
of bop piano and developed a more spacious, reflective
approach. Leaving more room for Miles and Shorter.
Exactly. He learned the value of silence for
Miles when not to play, which made his contributions
that much more impactful. And while he's redefining
the rhythm section on the road with Miles, he's
simultaneously having this tremendously prolific
career under his own name at Blue Note. Oh, he
was recording constantly, both as a leader and
a sideman, producing albums that really cemented
his status as a major composer. His Blue Note
output during this period is just... Yeah. It
really is. Albums like My Point of View in 63,
Speak Like a Child in 68, The Prisoner in 69.
They're all essential. But the absolute compositional
peak of this era and maybe his entire acoustic
career is Maiden Voyage from 1965. Maiden Voyage
is iconic. But how does that album specifically
reflect the synthesis of his background? You
know, the engineer meeting the improviser. It's
the perfect demonstration of controlled structure
leading to limitless freedom. Maiden Voyage is
a modal jazz piece built around four chords that
cycle very slowly. So it's sparse. Very sparse.
It's built primarily on those chordal harmonies
chords built in fourths, sounding open and cool,
far from the dense chord changes of traditional
jazz. So this sparse, structured framework, that's
the engineer side, it creates this incredible
sense of space. It's just the vast ocean the
album's concept invokes. And then the improvisers,
the jazz side, they use that simple, profound
structure to just... build these expansive emotional
landscapes exactly it's elegant deceptively simple
and deeply profound it became one of the most
played standards in jazz history for a reason
and he wasn't just limiting himself to the core
quintet either he was the keyboardist of choice
for pretty much Everyone coming through Blue
Note. He was everywhere. Grant Green, Eric Dolphy,
Wayne Shorter on his solo work, Freddie Hubbard.
I mean, if you were in New York's mid -60s jazz
scene, you were playing with Herbie Hancock.
And he got experimental on his own records, too,
pushing the boundaries of what even Blue Note
would accept. For sure. Take Inventions and Dimensions
from 1963. It was an album of almost entirely
improvised music. Wow. Just him, Paul Chambers
on bass, and two Latin percussionists. This willingness
to explore unstructured spur -of -the -moment
composition was always simmering under the surface,
a kind of counterpoint to his precise classical
training. Speaking of structured exploration,
this is also the period where he started to venture
into film and commercial music. Right. Bridging
that gap between sophisticated jazz and commercial
appeal, which might surprise some people, he
composed the score for Michelangelo Antonioni's
seminal 1966 film Blow Up. That was his very
first feature film soundtrack. It was, but he
also used his precise musical skill to write
catchy themes for TV commercials. The things
you would never associate with a jazz genius.
Right. Pillsbury Space Food Sticks, Standard
Oil, Tab Diet Cola, and even Virginia Slims and
Silverthins cigarettes. And this commercial work
often led to these great insider music anecdotes.
Tell us the Sylva Thins story because it really
highlights his adaptability. It's a classic case
of artistic repurposing. So he wrote this cool
spy type theme for a series of Sylva Thins commercials
in 1967. Okay. He genuinely liked the melody
and the harmony so much that he wanted to record
it as a proper song for an album. But the ad
agency held the rights to the original arrangement
and wouldn't let him record it verbatim for commercial
release. So what did the engineers like? He basically
self -sampled and rearranged it. he kept the
core harmonic idea but he significantly rewrote
the piece he changed the harmony the tempo the
tone and released it as the track he who lives
in fear on his 1969 album the prisoner that's
incredible it's a remarkable example of adapting
and reusing complex material and similarly the
sublime maiden voyage that beautiful tranquil
standard don't tell me it actually originated
as a theme for a cologne advertisement he Proved
that genius can be applied to any brief. That
commercial work just proves he was already bridging
that gap between sophisticated jazz composition
and commercial hooks way before he became a pop
star. For sure. But the biggest structural change
came right as he was leaving Miles Davis. The
electric shift. Yes. The transition to electric
keyboards was forced on him, but it was utterly
pivotal. Towards the end of his time with Miles,
Davis was pushing the band towards rock and popular
music elements, a move that would culminate in
Bitches Brew in 1970. And Hancock, coming from
that acoustic tradition, was initially pretty
reluctant to play electric piano. But Miles insisted,
right? He did. Miles convinced Hancock to start
doubling on electric keyboards, most notably
the Fender Rhodes electric piano. Which is a
completely different sound. A totally different
beast. The Rhodes doesn't have that bell -like
clarity or dynamic range of an acoustic piano.
It has this metallic, sustained, slightly gritty
tone. And that change from the organic sound
of wood and felt hammers to the sustained, electrified
tone of tines and pickups, it fundamentally shaped
the second half of his career. So many jazz purists
felt that the electric keyboard diminished the
acoustic purity of the music. I mean, that led
to huge riffs in the jazz world. Did Hancock
ever talk about that controversy, about Miles
forcing that shift? He certainly did. He saw
it initially as an unwelcome intrusion. But later,
in retrospect, he recognized that Miles was forcing
him and the entire genre to confront modern technology
and popular culture. A push he desperately needed.
Exactly. And he adapted quickly, recognizing
the possibilities for new textures and sounds
that the acoustic instrument just couldn't provide.
And then he formed his own sextet in the summer
of 68 after being dismissed from Davis's band.
Yeah, for returning late from his honeymoon in
Brazil. He was late, Miles was strict, and that
was that. But even after he was officially fired,
His influence was so crucial that he continued
to appear on subsequent groundbreaking Davis
records like In a Silent Way and On the Corner
for a few more years. The connection wasn't totally
severed, but the baton had definitely been passed.
So moving into the 1970s, Hancock's electronic
exploration just accelerates rapidly. This is
driven by the freedom he got after leaving Blue
Note in 1969 and signing with Warner Bros. And
his first ever was surprisingly R &B inflected.
He composed the soundtrack for that Bill Cosby
animated special, Hey Hey Hey, It's Fat Albert.
Right, with the music included on the album Fat
Albert Rotunda, it had a strong R &B and jazz
flavor moving closer to the popular groove. But
then came the deep, abstract dive into pure electronic
exploration, heavily influenced by Miles Davis'
Bitches Brew and this emerging world of modular
synthesis. This led to his most abstract and
technically demanding phase, the Mondishi era.
Absolutely. This is where the engineering and
musical minds just collide dramatically. He became
obsessed with electronic musical instruments.
And the Wandishi period, running roughly from
71 to 73, was based around this incredible sextet
or septet. It was a monster band. Buster Williams,
Billy Hart, Eddie Henderson, Julian Priester,
and Benny Maupin. And critically, they brought
in Patrick Gleason specifically to handle the
complex, state -of -the -art synthesizers. The
name itself, Wandishi. is a statement of intent
right it's swahili for writer it implies creation
Deep conceptual work. And the music was so far
removed from post -box swing. It was cosmic,
textural, highly abstract. It was sonic science
fiction. Totally. Characterized by strong improvisational
aspects and showing a heavy influence from contemporary
classical electronic composers like Karlheinz
Stockhausen. It was deep avant -garde jazz fusion.
And the specific year here really tells the story
of the sound. It wasn't just the Fender Rhodes
anymore. This was a technological fortress. It
was a massive rig for the early 70s. They used
the Rhodes. Sure. But they layered in these pioneering
modular synths, the ARP Odyssey, the huge ARP
2600. Which was known for its flexibility. Exactly.
And the ARP Pro Soloist synthesizer and the colossal
room size Moog synthesizer, the third. The Mellotron
was also key. For the listener who might not
be familiar, what does a Mellotron bring to that
sound compared to a pure synthesizer? The Mellotron
is an electromechanical keyboard. It uses tape
loops of recorded instrument strings, brass,
a choir, to create this lush, eerie, and often
unstable sonic texture. So in the context of
Mondishi, it provided those sprawling atmospheric
textures that made the albums Mondishi, Crossings,
and Sextant sound so much larger and more ambient
than traditional jazz records. They truly pushed
the instruments to their limits. It was high
art fusion, but high art is often commercially
challenging. Yeah, the Mondishi era, while...
artistically fertile was not commercially sustainable.
So in 1973, Hancock made an abrupt but very calculated
pivot. He made a deliberate decision to reconnect
with his Chicago roots and the R &B grooves he
loved. Right. He argued that he needed to play
music that people could feel and relate to instantly,
so he streamlined the band, kept only Benny Martin,
and formed the Headhunters. Adding the funk masters
Paul Jackson on bass, Bill Summers on percussion,
and Harvey Mason on drums. And this change of
focus resulted in the album Headhunters in 1973.
This was the revolution that defined the genre
for a generation. It was instantaneous. Completely.
Headhunters stripped away the ambient complexity
of Muandishi and focused instead on rhythmically.
lock, and deep funk groove, all delivered through
a precise electronic medium. It became a massive
commercial hit, crossed over to pop audiences,
got widespread recognition. But we do have to
note the critique. For sure. Within the strict
academic jazz community, it faced a lot of criticism
for being too commercial, too simple. for prioritizing
groove over complex harmonic improvisation. So
how did the success of Headhunters change the
internal dynamics of the jazz world at that time?
Was the scene a selling out or innovating? It
was absolutely divisive. For older jazz musicians,
it was selling out. It replaced the intellectual
purity of post -bop with the relentless syncopation
of funk. But for the younger generation, it was
pure innovation. A sign that jazz could engage
with the music of the street. It was a bridge.
Exactly. And the enduring impact is massive.
The sources confirm AllMusic noted that it still
sounds fresh and vital three decades after its
initial release, and its genre bending proved
vastly influential on not only jazz, but funk,
soul, and hip -hop. You just have to listen to
the track, Chameleon. That bass line, played
by Paul Jackson, is often cited as one of the
most foundational funk grooves of the 20th century.
It's repetitive, heavily syncopated, and perfectly
synthesized. It's the engineer's mind applying
structural rigor to dance music. And they revisited
Watermelon Man from his debut, but they just
transformed it. Totally. They added indigenous
sounds, but kept that core groove. This was fusion
defined. The success was immediate. They quickly
released a follow -up thrust in 74, which saw
Mike Clark replace Harvey Mason on drums. And
they released that excellent live album from
Japan, Flood, in 1975. The Headhunters proved
that electrified, funky jazz was commercially
viable both in the studio and on stage. Alongside
this jazz -funk trajectory, he was still balancing
his scoring work. He composed the score for the
controversial film The Spook, who sat by the
door in 73. A work that blended funk and experimental
sounds, yeah. And the following year, the soundtrack
for the first Death Wish film. So the transition
toward more commercial jazz funk sounds continued
right through the mid 70s with albums like Man
Child and Secrets. And while these featured members
of the Headhunters, they weren't billed as the
full group anymore. Right. Hancock was building
an empire based on groove and electronic texture.
This period really represents the pinnacle of
his shift from the acoustic architect of post
-bop to the electronic innovator of jazz funk.
He successfully navigated that really challenging
terrain between artistic purity and massive commercial
success. And in doing so, he fundamentally changed
the expectations of a jazz musician's career.
As we move into the late 70s and 80s, Hancock's
career becomes this fascinating exercise in dichotomy.
He's simultaneously embracing an acoustic revival,
cementing his jazz legacy. While diving headfirst
into electronic disco and pioneering hip -hop
sounds, he was truly living two musical lives.
Let's look at the acoustic work first, because
it was so vital to balance all that electronic
experimentation. For sure. He recorded a significant
duet album with Chick Corea, which must have
been a satisfying collaboration, considering
Corea had replaced him in the Miles Davis band
years earlier. And he also released the solo
acoustic album The Piano in 1979. And this is
where the VSOP era began. Very special one -time
performance. It started around 76, and it essentially
became an acoustic reunion tour for the Miles
Davis Rhythm Section. It was a beautiful return
to form, touring with his legendary former partners,
Tony Williams and Ron Carter. They proved that
the magic of that rhythm section hadn't faded
at all. They recorded albums like Herbie Hancock
Trio in 1981. Right. They were reaffirming the
integrity of the acoustic tradition at the very
same time they were defining the electronic future.
The VSOP concept then expanded into VSOP2 when
Hancock, Williams and Carter toured internationally
with the emerging stars of the new traditionalist
movement, the Marsalis Brothers. Winton and Brantford,
yeah. That quintet is featured on Wynton Marsalis'
debut album in 1981. They even performed at the
Playboy Jazz Festival in 84 as a sextet, adding
the vocal brilliance of Bobby McBaron. So on
one hand, he's cementing his acoustic jazz legend
status. But in the other, he's embracing the
era of disco and synthesized pop with gusto.
From 78 to 82, he recorded several albums of
jazz -inflected disco using the technological
tools he'd perfected in the Melon Dishi and Headhunters
eras for pure commercial appeal. And the album
Sunlight from 78 is notable because it introduced
his distinctive use of the vocoder. Right. A
device that uses a synthesizer to modify the
human voice. The vocoder allowed him to sing,
but in this totally synthetic robotic way, which
was extremely novel at the time. And this resulted
in the British hit, I Thought It Was You. It
did. And he continued that vocoder sound with
Feats' Don't Fail Me Now in 79, which gave him
another UK hit, You Bet Your Love. Critics at
the time were, let's say, largely unimpressed
with this commercial direction. But Herbie was
just exploring the absolute limits of the tools
at his disposal. He was preparing for the next,
even larger leap. That exploration paid off massively
in 1983 with his collaboration with the experimental
bassist and producer Bill Laswell. This partnership
truly pushed him into the global pop stratosphere.
This is where his engineering mind and his sense
of rhythm found their perfect 80s expression.
The collaboration resulted in the Future Shock
trilogy, starting with the album Future Shock
in 83, and the seismic single Rocket. An international
pop hit, a Grammy Award winner, and one of the
defining songs of the decade. And it's historically
cited as the first jazz hip hop song. It just
exploded the boundaries of what a jazz musician
could accomplish. Rocket became an anthem for
break dancers worldwide and a foundational text
for the hip hop movement in the 80s. But its
revolutionary aspect was intensely technical.
It was the first mainstream non -rap single by
an established jazz artist, no less to feature
scratching so prominently. OK, let's clarify
that for the audience. What exactly was scratching
and why was it so shocking to hear on a global
pot hit in 1983? So scratching is the rhythmic
manipulation of a vinyl record by a turntab list.
In this case, the great DJ Grand Mixer, DXT,
while the needle is playing. It creates these
unique, percussive and often abrasive sounds.
And before Rocket, this was almost exclusively
the domain of underground hip hop DJs. Completely.
So putting that raw, urban, technically demanding
and entirely new sonic texture front and center
on a Grammy winning record, it meant Hancock
instantly legitimized the turntable as a genuine
musical instrument. And the music video was just
as revolutionary. Directed by Godley and Krem
with these incredible, unsettling, robot -like
artworks by Jim Whiting. A visual masterpiece
that matched the futurism of the music. It was
an instant smash on the fledgling MTV network,
and it won five awards at the very first MTV
Video Music Awards. A true multimedia phenomenon.
he wasn't just chasing trends, he was dictating
them. And his electronic experimentation with
Laswell continued, cementing his status as a
sonic futurist on the Grammy -winning Sound System
in 84 and Perfect Machine in 88. But while he
was pushing the boundaries of technology, he
didn't abandon his more traditional musical skills.
In fact, he achieved his highest non -music industry
honor during this period by combining his acting
and scoring abilities. That would be the Academy
Award. He won the Oscar for Best Original Music
Score for the film Round Midnight in 1986, a
beautiful film about... the jazz scene in which
he also acted, playing the character Eddie Wayne.
Winning an Oscar in the mid 80s while you have
top 10 electro funk hits and you're touring with
Wynton Marsalis is, I mean, that's a staggering
feat of professional versatility. It's a level
few artists in history have ever matched. And
he had a prolific film scoring run during this
time, including A Soldier's Story. Joe Dancer,
Your Life is Calling, Action Jackson, and Colors.
And he was still exploring world music textures,
which just speaks to his restless nature. He
recorded Village Life with the Gambian Chora
player Foday Musasuso. and the live Jazz Africa
in 87. After the perfect machine tour, having
pushed the limits of Columbia Records for 15
years, he decided to leave the label ready for
the next phase of reinvention. So as we move
into the 1990s and beyond, Hancock enters this
phase defined by profound tributes, critical
institutionalization, and continuous high -profile
collaborations. Proving he was still determined
to reinvent himself every few years, even as
he entered his 50s and 60s. The decade started
with a major touring group. He toured with Jack
D. Jeanette, Dave Colin, and Pat Metheny on the
1990 Parallel Realities Tour, a powerhouse quartet
of modern virtuosos. But the most significant
reunion came in 1994. That was the A Tribute
to Miles album. He reunited with the surviving
members of the second great quintet Ron Carter,
Tony Williams, and Wayne Shorter, with Wallace
Roney playing Davis' trumpet part. That must
have been a critical moment for the jazz world.
Oh, it was huge. It demonstrated the enduring
power and structural integrity of that original
rhythm section. It won a Grammy for Best Group
Album. But true to form, after this return to
acoustic jazz royalty, he immediately swung back
to genre bending. Right. Releasing the acid jazz
album This Is Da Drum in 1994, fully integrating
the complex rhythmic structures of hip hop and
electronica into his compositional ideas. He
was never content to stay in one lane for long.
And he proved his willingness to engage with
contemporary popular music from a compositional
standpoint, too. In 1995, his album The New Standard.
Right. It featured an all -star band interpreting
pop songs by giants like Nirvana. They did all
apologies. Stevie Wonder, Prince, and The Beatles.
That's a radical way of looking at what constitutes
a standard. He was basically arguing that musical
longevity isn't just confined to Broadway tunes
or old jazz classics. Exactly, that it's inherent
in quality pop composition. Then he released
a significant duet album in 97, One Plus One,
with his longtime collaborator Wayne Shorter.
Their musical connection had always been profound.
And one of the compositions, Aung San Suu Kyi,
was recognized with a Grammy for Best Instrumental
Composition. just showcasing their continued,
nuanced, compositional output. And he closed
out the decade with a massive commercial and
critical hit, Gershwin's World, in 98. It achieved
great success by featuring this wide array of
guest stars, Stevie Wonder, Kathleen Battle,
Joni Mitchell, linking his classical and jazz
roots to the great American songbook. Moving
into the 21st century, he continued his electronica
focus. Future 2 Future in 2001 reunited him with
Bill Laswell. And brought in the modern turntablist
Rob Swift, demonstrating that he was still adapting
to new sound technology and staying relevant,
not just becoming a jazz traditionalist resting
on his laurels. But the straight jazz tradition
wasn't forgotten. Also in 2001, he partnered
with Michael Brecker and Roy Hargrove for the
live album Directions in Music, live at Massey
Hall. A tribute to Miles Davis and John Coltrane.
It won a Grammy for best jazz instrumental album.
He was proving he could move effortlessly between
the most demanding acoustic jazz and cutting
-edge electronic sounds. Then came the high -profile
pop duets of the mid -2000s. The 2005 album Possibilities
featured duets with commercial powerhouses. Carlos
Santana, Paul Simon, Annie Lennox, Christina
Aguilera, Sting. This was a clear strategy to
reach the broadest possible audience with his
unique musicality and compositional rigor. The
pinnacle of his modern success has to be his
tribute to his friend and collaborator, Joni
Mitchell. Oh, River. The Joni Letters from 2007
was a masterpiece of restraint and interpretation.
It featured vocalists like Nora Jones, Tina Turner,
and Corinne Bailey Ray, with Mitchell herself
appearing, and Leonard Cohen contributing a spoken
piece. He approached Mitchell's intensely personal
and complex compositions with the same harmonic
sophistication he used in Post Bop. And this
album was history -making. It won the 2008 Grammy
for Album of the Year. Which is critical to remember.
It made it only the second time in history a
jazz album had won that prestigious cross -genre
award. Right. It speaks volumes about the universality
and the structural appeal of his musicianship.
He continued that collaborative, global focus
with the Imagine Project in 2010. And beyond
recording, his legacy is now cemented in the
academic world. For sure. Since 2012, Hancock
has been a professor at the UCLA Herb Alpert
School of Music. And he holds a foundational
leadership role as the chairman of the Herbie
Hancock Institute of Jazz, which was formerly
known as the Thelonious Monk Institute until
2019. He was also named a UNESCO Goodwill Ambassador
for Intercultural Dialogue in 2011. These aren't
just honorary titles. They're active roles in
shaping the future of music education. But for
those truly interested in the intellectual scaffolding
behind his music, his most... significant academic
contribution might be those Charles Eliot Norton,
professor of poetry lectures he delivered at
Harvard in 2014. Yeah, focused entirely on the
theme, the ethics of jazz. This is where he really
formalized that philosophical connection between
his engineering mind, his Buddhist practice,
and his improvisational music. And he's still
actively creating and looking forward. His upcoming
album is being produced by modern heavyweights
like Terrace Martin. And it's stacked with the
vanguard of contemporary music, Kendrick Lamar,
Kamasi Washington, Thundercat, Flying Lotus,
Snoop Dogg. It just shows he is still connecting
with new generations and new sonic textures.
His career awards snapshot is just staggering.
14 Grammy Awards, the 86 Academy Award, Kennedy
Center Honors in 2013. And he was even named
a 2025 laureate for the prestigious Polar Music
Prize. He is one of the very few artists whose
influence is recognized. across every major field
of performance and composition, from the concert
hall to the DJ booth. We've covered the music,
the technology, and the academic legacy, but
the deep dive always looks beyond the discography
for the personal stories and philosophies that
ground the legend. Right. Herbie Hancock has
been married to Gigi Meixner since 1968, and
they have a daughter. And Gigi is clearly a vital
pillar of his life and career. He described her
in his memoir as deeply compassionate, but also
as someone who won't let you get away with anything,
noting that she was the one who kept him honest.
That suggests a crucial source of grounding and
accountability in a life full of creative upheaval
and professional pressures. Absolutely. Tragedy
did strike, however, during his commercial peak.
We should mention the loss of his sister, Jean.
She's a computer consultant and a really talented
lyricist who wrote for him, for Earth, Wind and
Fire, and others. And she was tragically killed
in the 1985 Delta Airlines Flight 191 crash.
That kind of sudden loss is just immense. And
speaking of immense personal struggles, his 2014
memoir Possibilities revealed a very difficult
period in the 1990s where he bravely discussed
his battle with crack cocaine addiction. He detailed
that his wife and daughter orchestrated an intervention
to get him help. He described the moment not
just as embarrassing, but also as a massive relief.
Realizing the struggle and the secret were finally
going to end. Exactly, allowing him to get sober.
This resilience and ability to confront massive
personal challenges is often overlooked, but
it perfectly mirrors the philosophical basis
of his art. Continuous, radical self -transformation.
And this resilience. This capacity for change
is so strongly connected to his spiritual life.
Since 1972, Hancock has practiced Nichiren Buddhism
as a member of the Soka Gakkai International.
Part of his practice includes the daily recitation
of the Buddhist chant Nam -myoho -renge -kyo.
So how does this spiritual focus connect with
the restless innovator we've been discussing?
The connection is central to his worldview. Nichiren
Buddhism emphasizes the concept of changing poison
into medicine, turning personal struggle into
positive action, and the inherent interconnectedness
of cause and effect. And crucially, it promotes
the idea that you contain everything you need
to transform your life and your environment.
So for an artist who constantly rejects stagnation
and embraces new genres every five years, the
philosophy of continuous self -transformation
and pushing one's own perceived limits is a perfect
spiritual anchor. It makes complete sense. The
relentless pursuit of the next phase is driven
by an internal philosophical mandate, not just
commercial ambition. And the dialogue between
Hancock, Wayne Shorter and Soka Gakkai International
President Daisaku Akeda on jazz, Buddhism and
life was published in 2013, which formalized
this link. He also explicitly connected these
ideas in his 2014 Harvard lecture titled Buddhism
and Creativity. Now, for the final detail that
perfectly encapsulates this blend of mechanical
structure and pure cool. Let's go back to the
car we mentioned earlier. It's more than just
a rich man's hobby. It's a symbol of his. early
engineering focus the 1963 ac shelby cobra he
bought it at age 23 for six thousand dollars
and he still owns it it's legendary among car
collectors it is serial number csx 2006 the sixth
cobra ever produced that alone is rare but the
details make it unique it's one of only 75 originally
produced with a smaller 260 cubic inch engine
and it is the only cobra ever equipped with a
two barrel carburetor that level of uniqueness
and detail the absolute one -off configuration
is extraordinary The fact that he recognized
that detail, bought that machine, kept it running,
and still appreciates its mechanical singularity
today, it perfectly aligns with the electrical
engineer side of his personality. Someone who
understands and cherishes the inner workings
of a complex, groundbreaking machine. That car
is now estimated to be worth more than $2 million.
And he plans to give the vehicle, which has been
with him through the Miles Davis Quintet, the
Mondishi era, the Headhunters revolution, and
the hip -hop phenomenon. to his grandson. Wow.
It passing on not just an asset, but a piece
of history and a symbol of his life's journey.
When you look back at Herbie Hancock's extraordinary
multifaceted journey, what stands out is his
relentless, almost philosophical commitment to
continuous radical change. He took classical
piano precision and applied it to post -bop innovation.
Then he harnessed the structural rigor of his
engineering mind to master complex electronic
synthesizers, fusing them flawlessly with funk,
hip -hop, and pop. His legacy isn't defined by
one genre or one era, but by his unique ability
to integrate these seemingly disparate elements.
From the modal calm of Maiden Voyage to the deep
groove of Headhunters and the technological shock
of Rocket, he never stopped pushing the sonic
envelope. He always saw the keyboard as an endless
palette of possibilities. So what does this all
mean for you, the learner? The fact that he was
trained in electrical engineering, the fact that
he practices a form of Buddhism focused on cause
and effect and internal change, and the fact
that he built a career on improvisation and structure.
These three elements are inextricably linked
in his art. They define him as the ultimate synthesist.
Which raises an important question for you, the
listener, to mull over. What creative power lies
in Hancock's synthesis of rigid structure like
engineering or classical music and constant intentional
change like his Buddhist philosophy and his commitment
to improvisation? And how does that approach,
that refusal to stagnate, continue to shape the
evolution of jazz and popular music today, influencing
everyone from Flying Lotus to Kendrick Lamar?
It's a deep dive that keeps going. We highly
recommend exploring his Charles Elliot Norton
Professor of Poetry lectures at Harvard. particularly
the ethics of jazz, to delve further into that
complex connection between philosophy and performance.
Thank you for joining us for the deep dive into
the extraordinary life and machines of Herbie
Hancock.