Favorite Sections From Herbie Hancock's Possibilities

After a bit of Duck Duck Go research -- friends don't encourage friends to use google search -- I figured out how to do voice typing on my iPad and was able to put down from of my favorite sections from Herbie Hancock's Possibilities. The technology is less than perfect at recognizing the words and commands I speak, but this method is faster than typing on the on screen keyboard with my index finger.

Like Herbie Hancock, Wynton Marsalis came into the world of professional jazz at a very young age, just 19. Marsalis had strong opinions about the jazz industry:

 

That said, Wynton, even at 19, was quick to criticize other musicians. Because he was so young he got a lot of attention and did a lot of interviews, and he was more than willing to share is negative opinions about some of the jazz greats who had come before him. I couldn't understand it -- why would a celebrated young player feel the need to tear others down? But Wynton considered himself a jazz purest and anybody who didn't meet his standards would feel the sting of his words. A couple of times after I heard about Wynton's harsh assessment of other players, I said to him, "what are you doing, man? Jazz music has a hard enough time finding an audience. We should be helping each other out, not tearing each other down." And Wynton would say, "yeah, I know. I'm sorry! I got carried away.”

 

… Wynton was an amazing player, but that kind of competitiveness was, to me, his weakness. From a very young age he behaved with a kind of entitlement, and he never seemed content to let players play and keep to his own business. He seemed driven to make comparisons all the time, to put down whoever wasn't playing at a level or in a style he approved of.

But we all have our weaknesses, and if I'm honest about it, I had some of the same feelings when did. I had been a jazz elitist for many years, turning my nose up at rock and pop music until Tony Williams and Miles taught me otherwise. I'd also turned my nose up at electric pianos until Miles taught me otherwise. Nobody's perfect and it's certainly not fair for me to sit here and criticize a guy for criticizing other people.

The truth is, Wynton's positive contributions to jazz have far outweighed anything negative he's done. Wynton re-energized jazz for a lot of young musicians and he's brought thousands of new fans to jazz. Through his talent and Charisma he co-founded jazz at Lincoln Center, he created television and radio shows educating people about jazz, and he's even written books on the subject. He's full of positive energy for the music he loves and he's doing more than just about anybody else to make sure it thrives (pgs. 224-225).

 

Hancock describes an interaction he had with Marsalis one night where the young trumpeter was quite depressed. Hancock goes on to suggest that Marasalis' arrogance is, in some ways, compensation for some feelings of inadequacy he has never been able to avoid. 

One section I enjoyed because it reminded me of watching television as a child was when Herbie Hancock flew to the Gambia to tape an episode of the Muppet show:

 

That's how I ended up on a boat in The Gambia with Miss Piggy and Kermit, playing a portable keyboard as we floated on a river, looking for sounds to sample while I improvised a casual conversation with the Muppets, explaining the technology of sampling sounds to use for music. I couldn't believe how well it worked out, and that I was able to shoot scenes for the Muppet Show while I did my Clan of the Cave Bear [movioe score] research. 

 

After all that, The Muppets clip never actually aired – and I didn't get hired to write the score for Clan of the Cave Bear, either. But the Gambia trip was an amazing convergence ... (pgs 262-263).

Hancock had long been interested in the intersection of music and technology. As a young man at Grinnell College he studied both engineering and music. In this section, Hancock describes his first computer, an Apple II+.

 

After Bryan [Bell] and I had fiddled around on [the computer] for a while, we turned to the big question: how could we use this new machine to make music?

 

At first I thought I would use it mainly to write music. The computer had audio, so I thought I could develop different sounds and then play them back. Beyond that, I wasn't really sure what to do with it. We knew the Apple II+ had lots of capabilities, but computers hadn't really been used for making music before, so we'd be making stuff up on the Fly and neither of us knew how to speak the computers language, Applesoft BASIC. But Apple had included a programming manual with the computer, so Bryan decided to teach himself.

 

… I thought he was crazy. "Bryan, you've never even written code for the Apple II," I reminded him.

"Well, I have this book," he said. "I'll learn how." He buried his head in the programming book and then start typing things in, essentially hacking this brand new Apple II+. We'd be in the recording studio and he'd disappear in between takes to mess around with his programming, with his Applesoft BASIC book open at his side.

Bryan was fearless, making stuff up as he went along. He not only built that 16-bit master computer, he also added the first disk drive on a synthesizer keyboard and, with Keith Lofstrom, built the first automated patch bay for music. His inventions and modifications helped me write more music than I ever had before and Between 1979 and 1981 I really six albums: Direct Step, The Piano, Feets Don't Fail Me Now, Monster, Mr. Hands, and Magic Windows. (Pgs. 216-217).