That Was That
Never Say Never Or Forty-Six Years Ain't That Long, Not Really
In 1997, at the Ryman Auditorium in Nashville, I brought my teenage son Sam backstage to meet pianist Herbie Hancock and saxophonist Wayne Shorter. The two legends had just performed a sublime set of duets. This was Sam’s homeschool. Nothing turns the light on, creates the ah-ha moment like being in the presence of greatness. Bela Fleck and Jeff Coffin, two of Nashville’s remarkable improvisers, were backstage, too. I introduced myself to Herbie. We had history, which I wasn’t foolish enough to think he’d remember.
Decades earlier I’d spent a day with Herbie at a pre-production rehearsal for trumpeter Eddie Henderson’s album, Mahal. I’d been at Eddie’s home in the Berkeley Hills the week before. He had graciously invited me to audition for the piano spot in his band.
I sat down at the piano and played the Steve Swallow tune, “Hullo Bolinas” borrowed from the Bill Evans album, The Tokyo Concert. (Steve, a remarkable bassist, recorded the duet “After All These Years” with me in 2020.) I also played one of my own instrumentals for Eddie. He responded to my hesitant performance by dropping the needle on some rare Miles Davis vinyl. Which was cool, but confusing. Several years later the lights came on and I understood the subtle hint. He was gently showing me I wasn’t ready.
He wasn’t done with me yet, though. Eddie graciously guided me and Andi to an upstairs bedroom. He sat us down in front of the very first video player we had ever seen. It would be a decade before VCR models worked their way into consumer consciousness. Eddie pushed play on this massive machine from the future (or at least Japan) and the image and sound of the famous John Coltrane Quartet came to life. I had grieved that Coltrane had passed and that I’d never see him perform. There he was. Serious, luminescent. Playing the most unique version of “My Favorite Things” the world has ever heard. As Coltrane mused in words, “I’ve found you’ve got to look back at the old things and see them in a new light.”
Eddie left us in the room alone for at least an hour. I could not believe the unmerited favor I was experiencing. I became John the Revelator caught up in a bright vision of jazz paradise.
I drove away from Eddie’s home with the address for Studio Instrument Rentals (SIR) in San Francisco. He had invited me to join him the following week. I was 20 years old and already hanging with my musical heroes. Surely this was the beginning of great things.
This opportunity gave me no choice but to quit my job at Bremer’s Hardware. How could I turn down a day spent soaking up the funk with Herbie, Eddie, Paul Jackson, Julian Priester, Bennie Maupin, Howard King, and M’Tume? No gig ever came of it, but the experience was seminal.
Forty-six years later, on October 19, 2022, in NYC, Eddie and I would finally work together. We recorded an EP of songs as an homagé to 90s acid-jazz and hip-hop (think US3’s big hit Cantaloop-Flip Fantasia). Our recording features LA rapper, Dangerboy, and guest performances from the criminally funky, Mike Clark and my long-time collaborator, Jeff Coffin on tenor sax and flute. Matt White joins Jeff to make up the horn section. At 82, Eddie is still bringing his A-game. And those records he made in the 70s? Sampled by Jay-Z, Pete Rock and more.
As for skipping out on my hardware store gig, I was a disinterested employee anyway. Instead of resigning in person I sent Bremer’s a postcard of a fisherman in a little boat. The sportsman was reeling in a gigantic catch bigger than the boat. It said: “I got the big one.” Either Andi or mother picked up my check for me. That was that.
The EP, Keep Movin’ drops Friday, 02.10.23 - Presale avail at usual suspects.