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I am a Los Angeles-based twentysomething. I have a profession, and I have a secret life in music, and this blog isn't about any of that. I like Blogger because I can't read what you're thinking.

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Tuesday, June 8   >>

SO I MET ONE OF MY HEROES, A JAZZ LEGEND, LAST NIGHT

The Grammy Museum hosted a program with Herbie Hancock last night in their ridiculously tiny theater. So tiny, I was admiring the buttons on Hancock's cardigan. Anyway, he was previewing and talking about his new album, "The Imagine Project."

Watch the EPK in its entirety. You will not regret it.










After previewing some tracks, I can assure you it holds tons of promise.

He also spoke about his teenage realization that music was his calling.

"I was in college as an engineer major. But I realized doing music wasn't a choice. The decision was already made. I changed my major to music."

I pretty much lost it at, "The decision was already made." Was it a practical decision already made? A spiritual one? One manifested by fate? It was vague. It was also exactly what I needed to hear.

Add a few anecdotes about dinners with Oscar Peterson, rehearsals with Miles Davis (even plans about a Jimi Hendrix/Miles Davis fusion album that never happened since Jimi died WTF), and his fascination with geek culture, and you've pretty much summed up a night with this guy. I can't think of a cooler guy to want to have drinks with.

I just had to meet him after.
HUGO: Hi. My name is Hugo. It's a real honor to meet you.
And we shake hands.
HERBIE: It's nice to meet you, Hugo.

HUGO: I have a weird request.

HERBIE: What is it?

HUGO: I'd really appreciate an autograph. But, if you wouldn't mind, could you write a chord progression for me?

HERBIE: A chord progression?
And he took my program. And he sat down. And he uncapped his pen. And he wrote down B-7.

Then he added a b5, as if he thought the B-7 weren't enough.

Then he thought about it more. And all I'm thinking is, "Holy shit. Herbie fucking Hancock is giving me a piece of his brain and creativity." And he writes down Eb7/Bb.

And then he pauses. And he genuinely seems stumped, as if to say he was thinking, "Shit, I better not fuck this up," or, "What would sound cool right after?"

And he writes down DM7/A.

And when he handed it back, it was, like, "TA-DAHHH!!!"


I have learned so much about art in the past few days that I'm slowly realizing the decision has already been made in my life.

I think the decision is obvious.