Herbie Hancock at the Barbican — a master innovator possessed

Even before Herbie Hancock had played a note at this first of two sold-out Barbican nights, the audience were on their feet. The music opened on a medley — “bits and pieces”, as the American pianist called it. “I’ve been in the business a long time, and I can’t do everything.”

Indeed, while the content is always rendered differently, the main ingredients of a Hancock set have rarely changed over the years. This, a slightly truncated version of the programme Hancock presented at the Barbican last year, was refreshed by the addition of 24-year-old drummer Jaylen Petinaud. It was his pared-down approach, with doctored splash cymbal and a rock-tinged thrust, that took Hancock’s music down an untrodden path. Moods changed sharply, solos were taken to the edge, and bass and drums rumbled underneath. Hancock, now 83, played like a man possessed, drawing on the band’s collective energy.

The evening opened with Hancock delivering space-age swirls and industrial grinds of electronica. James Genus added a grumble of bass, drums a heartbeat pulse, and Hancock’s “medley” was under way. Thirty minutes later, each band member had taken the lead and the band had moved from balladry and sleek grooves to hardcore funk. “Rockit” was in the mix, a snippet of “Butterfly” raised a passing cheer, while “4 A.M.”, from the album Mr Hands, was a gentle lilt.

Hancock stretched out on the jazz-funk classic “Chameleon”, though the theme passed quickly and his solo, played on acoustic grand piano, developed the rarely played bridge passage. Speedy splayed arpeggios, delicate left-hand vamps and rhythmic mid-range clusters built his improvisation to a peak, raising the crowd still further. The medley ended with Hancock and drummer Petinaud swapping phrases as bass seethed underneath.

Wayne Shorter’s “Footprints” came next, arranged by trumpeter Terence Blanchard with the original waltz tempo changed to an uneasy 4/4. Hancock’s own “Come Running to Me”, featuring him on vocoder, came later, and a melange of newer originals ended the set. It was a performance of controlled virtuosity held together by a strong group ethic.

Thus, Hancock’s inquisitive solo on “Footprints” was followed by a declamatory solo from Blanchard that was laden with rounded trumpet power. “Actual Proof” was fast-paced, but a sudden stop found Lionel Loueke, unaccompanied, delivering a multitracked highlight on effects-laden guitar. Bassist James Genus’s grungy minimalist funk shook bones, but his solos throughout the evening were fleet-fingered, lyrical and high-toned. Even the music’s serious and complex intent was leavened by Hancock’s roguish tongue-in-cheek impulses. Just as his vocoder solo on “Come Running to Me” reached a crescendo of dark-toned chords, his effects-enhanced voice chanted in a single pitch, “Actually, I’m just making up these words”.

No point in the band leaving the stage. The solos-for-all encore, based on the core riff of “Chameleon”, ended with Hancock on keytar, swapping riffs, beeps and squeaks with Loueke while Petinaud spat fire.

★★★★★

barbican.org.uk