Words: Cyclone

Herbie Hancock Jazz Grammy Future 2 Future

Jazz auteur Herbie Hancock challenged a generation of aspiring producers in electronic music when he recruited hip-hop DJ DST to cut the neo-funk crossover hit 'Rockit' in 1983.

Hancock last experimented with contemporary styles in 94 when he disseminated Dis Is Da Drum. Now, for his latest LP, Future 2 Future, Hancock collaborates with artists across the electronic spectrum— New York turntablist Rob Swift, Detroit techno innovator Carl Craig, and British drum n bass pioneer A Guy Called Gerald— as well as soul great Chaka Khan, spoken word poet Dana Bryant and jazz musicians Bill Laswell, Wayne Shorter and Jack DeJohnette. Future 2 Future even presents a song—”Alphabeta” —that is built from Derrick May's seminal techno record Strings Of Life, while DJ Krush, LTJ Bukem and Joe Claussell have all remixed the single The Essence with Khan's vocals.

At 62, Herbie is very hip, animated and down-to-earth— he loves sharing extended narratives. Strangely enough though, the multiple Grammy winner knows little about any of the younger musicians on Future 2 Future. This is because it was Laswell who liaised with them— completing pre-production before Hancock laid down his parts. This may sound like much of today's modern recording—especially in the fast-paced world of urban music, where a rapper often doesn't know the identity of the R&B diva singing his hook and where connections are facilitated by way of DATs sent Federal Express from one studio to another—but Hancock stresses the spontaneity of the project as its key point of divergence. 

"Actually it was Bill Laswell who laid the groundwork-that's the way he works. He likes to prepare some things beforehand and then present them to me, so I wasn't there when Carl Craig put his stuff on, or when the Charnett Moffett put his stuff on, and then Bill would present that to me. That's the way he worked in the past, and then in the past we would listen to whatever he prepared and then we would figure out the next move to make, you know? Because then it would just be elements that he would put on a tape-sometimes just something like a rhythm track and maybe some ambient sounds and a texture-but rarely were there any melodies to speak of, and so I would take those elements and then figure out what kind of harmonic direction I might wanna take on a particular tune, or what elements might invoke a melody, and do that kind of analysis, and then go in the studio and do it. That's how we worked in the past. This time, in a way, he did the same thing, but the set-up was different. This time I was hearing those things that he'd prepared while I was sitting at a piano with the 'record' light on, so what he got was my spontaneous reaction to hearing those things for the first time and we recorded that, and we tried to keep that element of spontaneity throughout the whole production of the record."

Herbie Hancock Future 2 Future Grammy

"It really showed how much trust Bill Laswell had in my instincts, 'cause you have to use your instincts to play, and I guess I had to have the courage to trust my instincts, too (laughs)."

Hailing from Chicago, Hancock's musical journey was already underway when, at a mere 11, the prodigy performed a Mozart piano concerto with the Chicago Symphony Orchestra. In high school, Hancock discovered jazz while pursuing an interest in electronic science—and ultimately these two passions would merge. At college Herbie majored in both music and electrical engineering. In 1960 Hancock, then 20, was taken under the wings of trumpeter Donald Byrd. Hancock went on to land a solo deal with Blue Note Records and premiered with the album Takin' Off, savouring a hit with "Watermelon Man". In 1963 Hancock's career scaled new heights when Miles Davis asked him to join his band. Indeed, he contributed to the brilliant Bitches Brew, an exemplar of the new jazz-fusion. Hancock continued to forge a rep as a solo artist—with 1973's Head Hunters among his definitive recordings. In the 80s Herbie masterminded Future Shock, home to 'Rockit', with Laswell.

Hancock is aware that 'Rockit' exerted a profound influence on new genres as diverse as turntablism, techno and drum n bass, but, beyond that, he doesn't pretend to follow the music. "I don't pay attention to how those things evolve," he admits. "I'm not an expert on hip hop, and I never have been. I can only tell you about my music, you know?" Certainly, though, Hancock is cognizant of technological changes in electronic music. By way of example, he draws a parallel between the effects DST added to his turntables in the 80s and what he himself did with his first Rhodes piano in the early 70s—the latter something he related to DST when they worked together. "Harold Rhodes came to a club where I worked and he noticed that the top of the keyboard was open and I had these cables plugged into it, and they were attached to some other boxes—an echoplex and a wah-wah pedal, and so forth - and he said (laughs), 'What are you doing to my instrument?' I said, 'You guys should build some output jacks, because I think people will be adding effects to your piano in the future.' And, sure enough, they actually did that and, sure enough, people did add effects to it. Well, DST did the same thing to the turntables."

Hancock remains open to new music and, while expressing ambivalence about the negativity of gangsta rap, he holds that today the culture has a strong future — which he didn't necessarily foresee when 'Rockit' materialised. By contrast, Wynton Marsalis, Hancock's protégé, has famously dismissed hip hop as a musical form. Ask Hancock about their difference in outlook and he laughs, stating only that it's Wynton's "right" to feel the way he does. "Actually, the older I get, the less judgmental I get, and I know that it's due a great deal to the Buddhism I practise—that's one of the effects of Buddhism, you become less judgmental and become more inclusive in your perspective. I'm very happy about that part of my growth, and it's something I'm still working on. I mean, everybody's free to have what their own personal likes and dislikes are—but when you start to think that your own likes and dislikes should be the standard, I think you've moved beyond the area that I can respect, because there are as many viewpoints, frankly, as there are people and they can all be valid. What I'm looking forward to, and what I'm finding more, is that the more I expand myself and the more I can even create music that has its own character, so I don't have to repeat myself."

Future 2 Future is likely to appeal to those electronic music types who have outgrown rave and now dig deeper music— jazzy house, Detroit techno, intelligent drum n bass— but, as with the recent ABC TV documentary series Jazz (which heavily featured Marsalis as commentator), it also has the potential to demystify jazz for an audience who are put off by its complex language — that is, they don't feel smart enough to 'get it'. "I started playing jazz when I was 14, but I had the same idea when I was 13— I thought you had to be older to play jazz, you had to be at least 19, and somebody put me on it when I was 14," Herbie laughs. "It's a music that transcends the ages, I think. But, you know, I think that exposure has a lot to do with the opinions of young people— if you haven't been exposed to jazz at all, how can you expect to have a relationship with it? It's very difficult to get that exposure because there isn't a lot of airplay. Where are they gonna hear it? Radio's available, TV's available, but, for jazz, there isn't very much that's being exposed on the radio or TV— and that's kind of unfortunate."