Bob Gluck's Blog

Here is a little bit of what I have been thinking and writing about Herbie Hancock’s first Warner Brother’s recording, ‘Fat Albert Rotuna’, which began as music for the pilot episode for Bill Cosby’s animated television show. I consider the record really a composite of three different approaches – two of them grounded at least in part in rhythm and blues, one a vehicle for solos and the other R&B vamps; the third is represented by two lushy orchestrated ballads, one featuring acoustic piano.

Please note, again, that these are drafts with much editing and further writing to go. I’ve now moved on to finishing a working draft of the historical narrative for 1972-73.

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‘Wiggle-Waggle’, the up-tempo tune with the most solo space, opens in a manner unexpected for an R&B romp. The sounds we hear first may be strummed dulcimer or banjo, resting upon a bed of saxophone and trombone long tones. Floating further above is an echoplexed trumpet figure. At 0:22 a spicy guitar lick is joined by drummer Bernard Purdie’s backbeat and Jerry Jermott’s electric bass. And then the James Brown-like horn section enters (arrangements that may have been on Herbie’s mind map), orchestrated with depth and attention to detail. Just before the one-minute mark, Herbie begins to comp on electric piano. And before we know it, Joe Henderson is off and running with a solo that shows marks of rhythm and blues – rapidly repeated riffs, reaching up for an altissimo held note – all refracted through Henderson’s sound and his knowledge of post-bop. The trumpet solo crafted here by Joe Newman has a more linear, scalar and melodic feel. His tone is beautiful and there is more felt kinship here to Freddie Hubbard than to rhythm and blues, even as he blows over the big band long tones, At 3:10, Newman lands on a high pitched, sustained tone with buzzing vibrato, in synch with another round of supportive band long tones. At 3:24, Hancock’s comping creates a suspended chord holding pattern, as the solo winds down. There is a pause like a sigh.

And after a five second upwardly rising electric piano riff, Hancock is off and running on his own solo. It bears many of the marks of the funky style to appear next on Freddie Hubbard’s ‘Red Clay’ and then on ‘Ostinato (Suite For Angela)’, the opening tune on ‘Mwandishi’, and again later on ‘Headhunters’. These include short call and response phrases, trades between solo lines and repeated left hand chords, momentary thick chordal phrases, tension built as he moves up the keyboard, resolving in an octave tremolo, endless variations on simple melodic fragments, and the ability to land right in the pocket when he wishes…

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[Note: The jazz press did not respond positively to this recording, which in some ways was a “one off” and in others, a relatively seamless exploration into how one could meld ideas from hard bop with more popular dance music forms. It is this kind of integration that has often proved so controversial among conventional jazz critics and audiences and which has been a recurring theme in Herbie Hancock’s creative output.]

[In his review, Down Beat writer Jim] Szantor termed ‘Fat Albert’ “Esthetic regression… in the soul-rock-r&b popcorn and onions vein… somewhat akin to a distinguished actor spurning a long-sought Shakespearean role in favor of a TV soap opera….” The main complaint voiced is the lack of improvisational space for Hancock and the horn players. It is true that there are tunes that quite intentionally contain no solos – they are about building a groove – but there are in fact tunes that include substantial improvisation. While Hancock is given credit for solos on the more conventionally jazz-oriented tunes; he “is heard to advantage only on the saving-grace ballads, where, in typical Hancock fashion, he often reworks nearly identical phrases to telling effect.” But what this reviewer misses is the “advantage” that Herbie Hancock precisely seeks in his ability to play funky rhythmic gestures, crafting a multi-layered interplay with the horns and rhythm section, even when the beat structure is straight up rhythm and blues…

Posted in Crafting the text

I’ve been listening, thinking, and writing about Herbie Hancock’s 1969 recordings for the second of my three historical chapters. These offer a running narrative with side journeys into some of the musical features. I’ve completed an early draft including passages about ‘The Prisoner’, Herbie’s final Blue Note release.

The personnel on ‘The Prisoner’ included the core of the Herbie Hancock Sextet that toured through Spring 1970: Johnny Coles on fluegelhorn, Joe Henderson on tenor saxophone and flute, Garnett Brown on trombone’ with a rhythm section led by Hancock on piano and, for the first time on one of his own recordings, electric piano, with Buster Williams offering a solid anchor on bass and Albert “Tootie” Heath on drums. But it is a richly orchestrated album, featuring a horn ensemble melding six voices, double the size of ‘Speak Like A Child’. The second horn trio varied between the two main sessions, with bass clarinet played by Romeo Penque or Jerome Richardson, with Richardson and Hubert Laws alternating on flute. Alternating on bass trombone was Tony Studd or Jack Jeffers.

Here goes some of it (remember that this is rough):

‘The Prisoner’ opens with ‘I Have a Dream’, a lyrical ballad buoyed by a samba beat. The first half of the melody, played on the flute, is supported with the richness of the two trombones. Additional horns and more complex harmonies back its second section. A bass clarinet announces the repetition of the tune, and counter melodies are played by the two trombones, flute, and piano. A third repetition of the tune is gently “sung” on fluegelhorn answered by the assembled horns. A rapidly fluttering figure by the flute offers filigree. A consort of horns complete this part of the melody, interrupted by a brief rhythmic figure. The fluegelhorn repeats the melody, this time backed by denser piano chordal comping. The tune then bounces between trombone and alto flute, with counter melodies appearing in various voices. A bridge leads to an elegantly stated piano solo, blues inflected towards the beginning, and unfolds by exploring variations off the melody in short phrases with intense beauty of line.

The title tune, ‘The Prisoner’ is a wild, intense romp, offering a soloistic vehicle for Joe Henderson, as he turns bits and pieces of melodic figures around and about, trying them out in multiple refractions, supported by intense drumming. The solo continues after a brief, unusual horn refrain with flute floating far above the rest. Hancock’s comping is at times spare, and always highly responsive to Henderson, reminiscent of some of Hancock’s playing behind Wayne Shorter and Miles Davis with the Davis Quintet. Piano and trumpet solos then follow.

Posted in Crafting the text

Along with working on the actual writing, what has been equally interesting for me is the ongoing conversations with people associated with the band. These are some of the loveliest, interesting, and critically thinking people one could ever meet. Small wonder, granted what their music sounds like, together and on their own. There are some places where I need more information, but at this point, its mostly checking in with people, getting to know them better, and this has been just a pleasure. I feel very fortunate.

I have also been hearing from people who attended various shows or have personal anecdotes. If you have thoughts in any of these directions, absolutely let me know. Useful gaps have been filled in this way, and also it provides a way for me to place this music in the context of the lives of its listeners and fellow travelers. Best bet is to contact me via email: gluckr@albany.edu

Posted in Crafting the text

Making great progress on the book. The second, third, and fourth chapters, largely a narrative telling of the basic story of the band are nearly done in draft form. There’s some fact checking, reference searching and so on to go, but its moving. I hadn’t realized how challenging it is to craft a linear narrative when there is not a tremendous amount of documentation. Its meant searching through old magazines and newspapers, asking people to look into their memories, check liner notes … and put it all together in a coherent fashion. Musical detective work. Next I move onto the parts that really interest me the most, which is the main body of the book, where thematic threads explore core elements in the music, and along the way tracking how Herbie and fellow musicians developed their materials and approaches before joining the band – and then as they evolved together along the way. I have much material for these next sections in first draft, accompanied by endless reams of charts I’ve drawn tracking performances of tunes, minute by minute. Those need careful looking and listening. I know, it sounds a bit extreme, but its the evidence that allows one to make broader statements that have truth value.

Posted in Crafting the text

This week’s task is consolidating the various narrative strands into one or two continuous flows, and then building the rest of the text around the various themes, such as sonic texture, music making as collective transcendent experience, the studio as a composing instrument… and tying within those various narrative strands, musical analysis, road maps through solos…

Posted in Crafting the text

The most interesting question, as I proceed in writing the Mwandishi band book remains this: how does one take a linear narrative, turn it, shake it … and then craft a non-linear, fun read that mirrors the nature of the music? Making progress here, as I think increasingly metaphorically. How does one describe a solo as if it were a journey through the woods with a group of friends, noticing all the activity of the animals and birds, the swaying of the trees, moving in one’s chosen direction, yet influenced by the ever changing surroundings? How does one speak about intense interrelations between instruments as a quality of transcendent experience? Of musical textures as if they were swaths of intricately woven cloth… I knew this would be a far more difficult, but ultimately rewarding task than the one I initially began. I don’t have many models for this approach to writing about music, but I am treating it as much a creative musical project as it is one that is literary. What I am hoping to do in completing this book is to write about music by placing music within the context of simply being alive.

Posted in Crafting the text