Review: Herbie Hancock - Secrets

Herbie Hancock had already long established his jazz credentials, primarily with his own now classic releases on Blue Note, and also with his wide array of sideman work; with among many others, Miles Davis. With 1973’s ‘Head Hunters’ though, he successfully crossed over into funk territory, with even more popular and commercial rewards; but still maintaining a strong jazz personality, including through his next subsequent releases.

With ‘Secrets’ however, his fourth in the jazz-funk vein, an alarming realisation of creative diminishing-returns comes to the fore. The previously strong mix of two genres melded together had started to feel a little too smooth-sounding with his third effort ‘Man Child’, which added guitars to the mix, as well as increasing the band roster quite heavily. ‘Secrets’, continuing this move, gives even more greater playing time to the guitars, and also sounds more funk-pop than anything funk-jazz.

For one, the emphasis here is on the mellower, softer side of the musical palette, with very little approaching up-tempo, and that which does is still given a distinctly relaxed edge. There’s no high-energy here, just rolling head-nodding grooves - many of which tend to go on far too long. ‘Doin’ It’ is a great example of this; opening with a slight disco inflection and sounding like a killer dancefloor hit - albeit for just two minutes. Repeating itself over six minutes, nothing much changes or happens, and it flatly wears its welcome out. ‘People Music’ sounds better, but basically feels like an attempt to re-do ‘Butterfly’, but in a different groove.

And much in the way the Hancock classic ‘Watermelon Man’ was re-worked successfully as an electric and funkier number for ‘Head Hunters’, here he takes another of his previous hits, ‘Canteloupe Island’ (arguably his most well-known number), and attempts to do something similar. But it really does not work at all. Almost unrecognisable, an electric guitar leads a yawning saunter, with the familiar melody coming in buried under an array of keyboard and synthesizer effects. It’s a largely lazy-sounding failure that surely can’t have anyone preferring it to the original.

The second half of the album is better however, with some nice seguing and an overall build to something close to climactic. The whole album though convinces that perhaps the energy, the enthusiasm and the ideas have all gone, and Hancock doesn’t know where to go from here. The drumming, previously a high-voltage and highly enjoyable part of the Hancock funk sound, is here just basic and simple, supplying little more than an at times metronomic beat for everyone else to follow. Another notable difference is Melvin Ragin AKA the self-dubbed ‘Wah Wah Watson’ on guitar and vocals. Whilst his guitar is flamboyantly good and well-suited, he also assists heavily on the composition and production duties, and you sense that it’s these contributions that have moved the album to its more ‘flat-sounding’ territory.

Yet there is still a good deal to enjoy and appreciate; Bernie Maupin emerges again as the hero, with his variety of saxophones and flutes, leading most of the solos along with Hancock’s numerous electric keyboards (no acoustic pianos here at all). Paul Jackson’s basslines too are as ever solid anchors for the band.

If you loved ‘Head Hunters’ and ‘Thrust’, those same vibes and sounds aren’t here. But if you liked ‘Man Child’, then there’s probably maybe something here for you. The multiple rhythms and layers, infectious grooves and spaced-out keyboards that made his earlier fusion efforts so good are sadly absent, replaced with a variety of not-quite-funky guitar and mellow sounds, and a decidedly more Caribbean feel. Not a great deal of it is very memorable however, and much of the tracks drag on without developing or finding a direction. If it sounds like the man had lost his hunger for it, tellingly his next few releases would be with the new all-acoustic quintet, alongside his Miles Davis cohorts and the swaggering trumpet of Freddie Hubbar, V.S.O.P. Buy those instead.

**

Review: Freddie Hubbard - Red Clay

The dominant and possibly defining jazz label of the 1970’s, CTI had an occasionally almost schizophrenic output, producing for the most part straight and swinging jazz as well as some of the best fusion works of the time, but also releasing a number of recordings that helped create the roots of smooth-jazz and muzak. As such, for every Stanley Turrentine’s ‘Sugar’ with it grooving funky jazz, or Jim Hall’s undisputed masterpiece ‘Concierto’, there’s a Bob James record which borders dangerously close to disco (good pianist, excellent arranger, lacklustre artist).

Grabbing the then biggest names in jazz, Creed Taylor signed them up to enjoy quite often their most commercially successful periods. For Freddie Hubbard this was obviously true, whose albums here sold massively in comparison to his earlier Blue Note sessions. Prior to CTI, his best work was often playing under the leadership of others such as Herbie Hancock or Wayne Shorter, but under Taylor’s wing he produced a tight fist of work that rank as his highest achievements under his own name. The first of these in particular, ‘Red Clay’, surrounds him with the stellar company of Herbie Hancock, Ron Carter, Joe Henderson and Lenny White, and is immediately a winner.

The title track opens with a short section that wouldn’t sound out of place on one of Miles Davis’ spacier sections from his epochal ‘Bitches Brew’, with Hubbard and Henderson trading blows, before quickly settling into a soulful and easy rhythm set out by Carter and White. Hancock plays some nice and languid electric piano over the top and everyone gets to solo with impressive skill and finesse. ‘Delphia’ that follows is almost as good too; a slower moving piece, with some moody organ work from Hancock, the trumpet man gets to play one of his finest solos, flitting from introspective to upbeat and lightly boppy. Some tasteful flute is added too, for colour rather than any solo, and it raises the piece nicely.

The cleverly-titled ‘Suite Sioux’ is perhaps the least interesting piece here, sounding like a more traditional if likeable enough bop, albeit with a subtle hint of bossa and the use of some electrics. Henderons solo though is spot on. A very seventies fade-out-and-then-fade-back-in closes the track unmemorably. ‘The Intrepid Fox’ gets things back on track though with an urgent and feverish number that has everyone sounding lively and energized, with some great riffing and Hubbard going for a definite less-is-more approach that handsomely pays off.

As bonuses we get a bold and funky take on John Lennon’s ‘Cold Turkey’, which though fun is far from essential and just runs out of puff. Much better is an impressive version of the title track from a later live date. At almost nineteen minutes, it’s some six minutes longer than the studio take and it’s a corker; looser and freer-flowing, it’s a powerful show, with the bonus presence of guitarist George Benson adding greatly to the mix.

‘Red Clay’ is a fusion work that doesn’t really fall into the same bucket as most other ‘fusion’. One of the earliest and perhaps ‘less fused’ records of the era, it’s basically a then contemporary take on modal jazz, but with harder hitting drums, and electric piano and bass instead of acoustic. No attempts here to borrow head-down groove from funk bands, slashing guitar work from the rockers, or bizarre keyboard effects and sounds, and as such it gives Hubbard his own voice while at the same time preventing it from sounding as dated as other similar works of the era. Additionally and importantly, there’s certainly no obvious copying of any of Miles or his then current experimentations. In fact it sounds simply like good strong jazz and is consequently one of the trumpeters (and labels) defining albums.

*****

Review: Herbie Hancock - Man Child

‘Man Child’, Herbie Hancock’s third album of jazz-funk, followed hot on the tail of ‘Thrust’ which itself had swiftly followed the groundbreaking ‘Head Hunters’. Released in 1975 to an expectant audience who had clamoured to the previous rhythm and groove-laden works, ‘Man Child’ now has oddly become one of Hancock’s slightly lesser-known works. ‘Thrust’ had in less than a year changed Hancock’s sound from the raw and cool sounding funk, into something more spacey and trippy with slightly more emphasis on the jazz than the funk. Recording ‘Man Child’, he again changed his sound, this time adding more layers to the ever-increasingly slick mix.

The brilliantly titled ‘Hang Up Your Hang-ups’ opens with some classic sounding of-the-era rhythm guitars and blazing horn work. An awesome funk-pop hybrid, it’s certainly one of Hancock’s most danceable numbers, and the ending breakdown and piano solo come unexpectedly but perfectly. So perfect in fact, that the standard is almost set too high for what has to follow.

‘Sun Touch’ is enjoyable and groovy, and ‘Steppin’ In It’ is also hugely fun and invigorating, with a welcome and sunny guest spot from Stevie Wonder on harmonica. But things begin to come undone with ‘The Trailor’/’The Traitor’ (depending on which issue you get depends on how much spell-checking went on) and ‘Bubbles’. The former has a real bite and power to it, but as with much of Hancock’s later 70’s excursions gets repetitive very quickly, whereas ‘Bubbles’ is just frankly below average, and it’s inclusion sparks worrying curiosity as to the quality control or even the inspiration this time around.

Regardless, having started on a high, things end equally successfully, if distinctly differently. ‘Heartbeat’ is frenetic and twisting; with the band sounding like they’re having a riot of a time, and Hancock gets to close in style with a suitably inspiring solo. It’s up there with some of his best.

All of the musicians here, and there are many, are on top form, with all of the ‘Head Hunters’ and ‘Thrust’ alumni being present against a whole slew more, including Wayne Shorter adding some very nice soprano work. Occasionally though there are just too many instruments, layers and effects all at one time. And with slightly flatter sounding production than before, it all sounds just too slickly commercial. In parts it’s a good sound suiting the pieces, in others it’s all too clean, almost as though someone forgot that part of the earlier charm was that rawer and earthier heavy groove. Also, whereas the previous two albums each contained just four long yet always interesting numbers, the pieces here at times, although shorter, seem to go on for far too long without ever hitting any kind of real direction.

‘Man Child’ ultimately sits at the top of the middle phase of Hancocks funk odyssey. It was here that things started to get too polished and lacking the same energy that infused the earlier works, but the majority is good fun party music and is sure to appeal to fans of the funk.

***

Review: Herbie Hancock - Thrust

A jazz prodigy by the time he was in his early twenties, Herbie Hancock hit gold in 1973 with ‘Head Hunters’, his first dive into the full-on electric funk world. Mixing jazz with the worlds of funk, rock and soul, it garnered strong reviews, attracted a newer, hipper audience and launched Hancock into the commercial stratosphere.

Not wasting any time and buoyed by his success, Hancock swiftly headed back into the Columbia studios for the follow-up, with bassist Paul Jackson, percussionist Bill Summers and Bernie Maupin on saxophone, flute and clarinet all returning - Harvey Mason on drums from the earlier album though being replaced by Mike Clark.

Following a similar pattern to ‘Head Hunters’, though far from a complete retread, ‘Thrust’ instead has a much more jazz vibe, but still maintains a healthy touch of the funk muscle. ‘Palm Grease’ builds on a steady curveball of a rhythm created by Clark and Jackson, with Hancock and Summers joining in, bending it and jamming over the top. Bernie Maupin first states the melody line with his flute, before adding extra power by switching to the bigger voiced tenor saxophone. It’s here that the groove really gets into its element. A less punchy opening than ‘Chameleon’ from ‘Head Hunters’ perhaps, it chooses to start sparsely before adding layer after layer until it reaches into a rhythmic swing all it’s own.

‘Actual Proof’ continues the sound and the groove, adding more complicated rhythms and going for a distinctly contemporary jazz approach. ‘Butterfly’, perhaps the highlight of the set, opts for a more peaceful and slowed down tempo approach, and is easily the most beautiful piece from Hancock’s electric phase, with the mood and feel being a credit to Maupins skillful use of his celebrated bass clarinet and his less often played soprano sax. Hancock gets to show his synthesizer mastery by giving the impression of flight against a calm jazz backdrop, before finally stating the main melody line right at the very end. ‘Spank-A-Lee’ that closes is, in contrast, just pure groove. A new form of danceable jazz is formed, with all the rhythm players combining to give the perfect springboard to Maupins outstanding ability and feel for the tenor saxophone.

Less famous but by no means less successful than ‘Head Hunters’, ‘Thrust’ is a great jazz funk record that will appeal to anyone who liked ‘Head Hunters’, and comes highly recommended for anyone wanting more of the same brand of funk.

****

Review: Herbie Hancock - Headhunters

Herbie Hancock had, before he’d even hit twenty years old, been a talent to watch. In his early twenties he laid down some classic recordings for Blue Note with some of the best players around, played with the great Donald Byrd, and been drafted into Miles Davis’ band to help form the second great quintet. Helping Miles on his seminal electric fusion jazz album ‘In A Silent Way’, Miles would then go onto develop his own darker heavier funk sound through recordings such as ‘Bitches Brew’, ‘Jack Johnson’ and ‘On The Corner’, as well as increasingly funkier sounding live performances.

Hancock though would spend a few years dabbling with funking-up his acoustic music and band, before making a move into the fully-fledged electric funk that Miles had embraced. Joining the same label as Miles, ‘Sextant’ released on Columbia in 1973 found him testing the waters with the electronic sounds of the gradually emerging jazz-fusion movement, but it was ‘Head Hunters’ released later in the same year that launched him head-first into jazz-funk stardom.

The stunning sixteen-minute opener ‘Chameleon’, unlike anything else at the time runs a funkified musical labyrinth of a rich tapestry of sounds and electronic manipulations. Electric bassist Paul Jackson lays down a steady, yet cool groove with Harvey Mason on drums, while Bernie Maupin on saxophone follows Hancocks leading melodies with an effortless ease. Full of great segments, the whole works to great effect, and has been sampled countless times, but nothing compares to the fantastic original.

An earlier tune from the decade before, ‘Watermelon Man’ from 1962’s debut ‘Takin’ Off’ is given a complete redux, as Hancock and his team strip it down to a tropical sounding funk, with Maupins flute shimmering against a great rhythm backdrop. Hancock’s keyboards lead the melody gently as he gives breathing room to his players for some free improvisation. Taken from it’s beginnings as a relatively conventional acoustic group number, it is reset into a tribal-electro-jam, and it sounds magnificent.

‘Sly’ is the peak of improvisational free-for-all funk, with a frantic yet carefully laid out style as everyone gets to show off their musical muscle. Bill Summers infectious percussion rhythms, here with congas, comes into its own as the pace increases. Combined with Harvey Mason’s drums, they create a solid and highly grooved percussive wall that only adds to an already top-flight composition.

By contrast to the first three numbers, the last piece, ‘Vein Melter’ finds everyone at a more relaxed pace. The keyboards and sax, light and gentle, mix with swaggering funk of Jackson’s bass, while Mason and Summers again get to show their musical prowess in the equally subtle yet captivating rhythmic wave they create.

‘Head Hunters’ was a massive success on its release, selling over a million copies and beginning Hancocks straddling of the jazz and pop worlds. Creating a new funk style, it would go on to influence other music outside of jazz and in no small way help change the way people listened to music overall. Also helping open the doors for electronic music such as electro, hip-hop and other sample-based music, its influence can be felt in almost all music genres. Hancock took a different funk route to the funk bands of the time, and a different one to that of the other jazzers’ gone funk, like Donald Byrd funk-pop, and Miles’ jungle-funk, and in doing so became a different pioneer. Time has not diminished this most influential of recordings, and it still to this day remains a highly addictive listening experience. Dig out your copy now.

*****

Review: Grant Green - Feelin' The Spirit

'Feelin' The Spirit' is one of the many many sessions Green recorded for Blue Note in his early 60's workaholic period. It falls easily into the category of 'flawed gem', but with the emphasis more on the gem than the flaws.

Grant Greens best albums are without a doubt his straight jazz works, particularly those in a trio or quartet setting where his guitar gets to shine in the spotlight – usually spectacularly. His perhaps less interesting work is usually the novelty themed music sometimes passed his way. Never bad by any means, they are his sometime lesser successful recordings. ‘Feelin’ The Spirit’, following on from gospel (‘Sunday Mornin’), Latin (‘The Latin Bit’) and country and folk (‘Goin’ West’), is one of the most successful of these, focusing on jazz interpretations of African-American spiritiual hymms.

The key to Greens on-going popularity - apart from his unique sound, the complexity in his lines and his uniformly excellent playing – is the fact that everything he recorded is so instantly accessible. Never does he become indulgent or play overly experimentally, everything he plays and solos with is always melodic and musical, even his lesser rated works. And the same is true here.

Green is suitably inspired and fired up throughout, his solos arpeggio-like as the rapid notes are repeated to create a hypnotic and captivating figure, with his backup providing energetic support. A young Herbie Hancock on piano in particular makes sure to steal every possible moment he can, very almost taking the show away from Green. The highlight here, ‘Joshua Fit The Battle Of Jericho’, is a case in point. Eight minutes of pure soulful beauty, and Hancock’s piano solo is just sublime.

The overall feel of the album is much like the cover photo, a musician, shrouded in darkness and a thick haze of cigarette smoke, moved by the music even as it emerges, with a special emotional punch to gospel pieces such as ‘Go Down Moses’. And it’s this atmosphere that makes the music here so satisfying. Everyone here sounds moved and emotionally inspired by the spiritual tunes and they bear repeated listens incredibly.

This recording is far from perfect however and does have some very clear faults. One or two of the longer improvisations do go on for just that bit too long, so that when they end you find yourself more relieved rather than elated – in fact there is more than one solo here where the player clearly suddenly seems to simply run out of ideas, but continues on regardless. The worst aspect by far though is that apart from the excellent support from Hancock, and Butch Warren and Billy Higgins, on bass and drums respectively, Garvin Masseaux’s sole role here is to play the tambourine, and seemingly with no real instruction. It’s a fairly empty contribution and it adds absolutely nothing. In fact it even gets in the way of the other musicians more than just a few times. A distracting nuisance, it’s a real head-scratcher as to why anyone suggested his presence in the first place.

‘Feelin’ The Spirit’ is nearly up there with ‘Sunday Mornin’’ as transcending the themed ideas handed to Grant Green and, despite it’s flaws, is an emotional and spiritual jazz work. It shows yet another successful side to the man and is well-worth hearing.

****

Review: Grant Green - Goin' West

Another of my idol Grant Green's albums from his classic Blue Note period. This one though is one of my least favourite of his sixties recordings. It does however feature a young Herbie Hancock. And that can't be bad.

Grant Greens ‘Goin’ West’ is another one of his fistful of ‘concept theme’ records that someone in Blue Note occasionally decided would be a good idea. They weren’t – Green was at his best when given the sidemen of his choice, when he chose the tunes and when he was allowed to play the way he wanted to. Regardless, following the Hispanic and samba moves of ‘The Latin Bit’, the southern hymms of ‘Feelin’ the Spirit’ and ‘Sunday Mornin’s’ gospel vibe, ‘Goin’ West’ makes the unusual gambt of taking on a mesh of country and western, folk and bluegrass.

‘Virtuoso jazz guitarist takes on country music’ though, as terrible as that sounds, this is not. It’s easy to dismiss as jazz-lite, with the easy tunes and lack of risks taken here, but with the sheer abundance of talent on display, the players involved all manage to elevate this to much more than just a small sidenote in an otherwise impressive discography.

At only thirty-four minutes, it’s a short album, and a ‘nice’ one – but far from a great one. Joining Green for duty are Herbie Hancock, Reggie Workman and Billy Higgins, and it feels like a natural grouping. The pairing of Green and Hancock in particular is effective, and you can easily hear why the pianist included the guitarist on his second album as leader, ‘My Point Of View’.

Five traditional, rather than jazz standard, songs make up the album, with opener the traditional ‘On Top Of Old Smokey’ tooled with an initially killer sounding pulse and one of Greens in-truth best ever solos - brief and bluesy, it’s incisive and sings perfectly in its very short time. ‘I Can’t Stop Loving You’ is short but sweet, and ‘Wagon Wheels’ is almost as good as Sonny Rollins take from his equally county-tinged ‘Way Out West’. The best though is ‘Red River Valley’ tooled with an unexpected yet highly successful bossa-nova beat and latin feel, with ‘Tumbling Tumbleweeds’ rounding out the set.

A classic, no - it is though an intriguing release. The result of being instructed to do a number of themed works, and from one of Greens six sessions as leader from 1962, this was then not released for seven years. And when it finally did see the light of day it was fairly poorly treated – just check out the generic, and lacking any artistic merit, album cover. But as sure as it is from being one of his best recordings, it’s also far from his worst, with its high musicality and all of the players bringing their best to the gig. Not that Green ever recorded anything truly bad anyway.

As MOR jazz it works well, and it’s fun and catchy. It’s for Green fans only though really, with nothing here that isn’t done better on any of his other much stronger releases. Nothing bad here, nothing great, it’s a nice ‘safe’ listen with modest if mis-placed ambition, and on that level on those terms it succeeds.

***

Review: Bobby Hutcherson - Oblique

'Oblique' is probably my favourite Bobby Hutcherson album of the sixties. Odd then that it sat in the vaults unreleased for almost 15 years. Such is the way of prolific Blue Note recording artists...

‘Oblique’ was Bobby Hutcherson’s second session both leading a quartet and attempting a more commercially viable take on his normally more avant-garde stylings. Sharing three-quarters of the band from ‘Happenings’, Herbie Hancock and Joe Chambers both make a welcome return, while Albert Stinson replaces the more well-known Bob Cranshaw on bass. Not that this should be seen in any way as ‘Happenings 2’; here there’s much less focus on Hutcherson the composer, with Hancock and Chambers both contributing - for the better - and also whereas before everything both benefitted and suffered from a little too much simplicity, ‘Oblique’ revels in it’s greater complexity.

The opening sweet samba-light ‘’Til Then’ sounds, at first glance, like a simple number, but underneath there’s a huge amount going on, and both the vibes and the piano get some exhilarating solos. As does ‘My Joy’, which starts at first as a waltz, before moving into a harder territory, and serves as a perfect launchpad for a blinding solo by Stinson.

The third piece though raises the bar. Hancock’s classic ‘Theme From Blow-Up’ is given perhaps the most straight jazz reading that he was ever involved in, with some stellar complementing between Hancock and Hutcherson, and the only real downside being that it highlights just how much stronger the pianists compositions are than that of the bandleaders.

‘Subtle Neptune’ returns to samba and gives the vibesman his best solo of the album, while intriguingly Hancock delivers his worst. Not outright bad, it’s merely long and winding without really adding anything. Afterwards though, we hit the double winning hit of the title track and ‘Bi-Sectional’. ‘Oblique’ is the emotional peak, with thoughtful traded moves between piano and vibes, while ‘Bi-Sectional’ begins almost playfully, before Hutcherson and Chambers begin a full-on percussion attack.

Bobby Hutcherson’s ‘Oblique’ is along with ‘Happenings’ only one of two quartet dates he recorded for Blue Note, but unlike that earlier album, was another of the label’s sessions that stayed in the vault until 1980 for it’s first release – and then only in Japan. And the truth is, it’s actually a far superior date than ‘Happenings’, boasting greater energy, creativity, compositions and even band. Albert Stinson is a wonderfully inventive player, who if listened to closely is doing a great many things under the rest of the band. Tragically, he would die only two years after this recording, aged just twenty-four.

One of Hutcherson’s greatest albums, its infrequent availability only serves to heighten its status. Not that it needs it by any means; the whole recording is a clear winner from start to end. Anyone with any interest in Hutcherson at all should seek this perfect five-star session out immediately.

Oblique artworks - 1980 Japan-only release, and the more traditional Blue Note style 2005 RVG Remaster.
*****

Review: Bobby Hutcherson - Happenings

Bobby Hutcherson is probably my favourite vibraphone player. I say 'probably' as I love the music and playing of Gary Burton, but Hutcherson's sheer variety of sound in his work is absolutely incredible. Personally I'm a fan of his more avant-garde material, and his work from the 1970's in particular. But for a first Hutch album review, why not something a little less cerebral, and a little more easy to get into...

Bobby Hutchersons ‘Happenings’ marked a new direction for the vibraphonist. Moving away from the avant-garde and his adventurous compositions that had made his name, it’s sometimes seen as perhaps less important than the work that he recorded just before, and that he would create later. It’s a perhaps uninformed opinion, with the album being the first to present the vibesman as the soloist leading a conventional rhythm section of piano, bass and drums, instead of the experimentally focused larger groups he’d played with earlier in his career. As a consequence it’s probably one of the easiest of his albums to get into and also one of the the best introductions to his music.

Another first is that the entire album, barring one track, is composed by Hutcherson, whereas previously he had relied on other writers. Much of it is very good too, right from the stomping opener ‘Aquarian Moon’. It’s balanced nicely too, from the swinging of ‘Head Start’, to the soft and gentle ‘Bouquet’, while taking in funky Latin grooves on the excellent ‘Rojo’, and on ‘When You Are Near’, showcasing some strong ballad playing that also stands as Hutchersons best composition here, but somewhat frustratingly it’s also the shortest. The best overall though is the take on Herbie Hancocks classic ‘Maiden Voyage’, which has always been an outstanding piece and here is given a brilliant treatment. Hancock of course is here too, and he’s on fire as he always was throughout the sixties, with the remainder of the rhythm team being made up by Bob Cranshaw and Joe Chambers.

Most of the pieces in truth though are more nicely composed than being exceptional, but the playing on each of them is second to none, and it is this that elevates everything to sounding absolutely terrific. The only disturbance to this highly listenable and accessible music comes with the final track ‘The Omen’. An ambitious sprawl that sounds more at home with the far experimental music of his earlier records, its stop-start cacophony doesn’t sit at all with the rest of the album - and its likely to make most listeners confused as to what they’re hearing, having just experienced the much easier sounding grooves a few minutes earlier. Its inclusion here really on this record is a very big mis-step.

Having laid down highly memorable work on other Blue Note alumni’s recordings, such as Eric Dolphy’s much-lauded ‘Out To Lunch’ and Grant Green’s outstanding double-excellence of ‘Idle Moments’ and ‘Street Of Dreams’, Hutcherson with ‘Happenings’ launched himself as a more acceptably closer-to-the-mainstream artist, and the gamble largely paid off. Just over a year later the same band, with Cranshaw replaced by Albert Stinson, would go on to record Hutchersons ‘Oblique’. He and Hancock’s exquisite partnership would even better highlight just how good they could be together, and with the upping of the quality of the writing the session would be even better.

‘Happenings’ is Hutchersons bid for mainstream jazz acceptance and it works a treat. A classy recording, it’s one of the vibes players most easy and relaxed dates as a leader, and only one of two ever dates leading a quartet, as well being a simply great showcase for Hancock. For the best introduction to the Bobby Hutcherson, this is for most a good starting point – but there is much greater music worth exploring in Hutcherson’s catalogue for anyone wanting to dip more than just a toe in the water.

****