1. Court and Spark (featuring Norah Jones
)
2. Edith and the Kingpin (featuring Tina Turner
)
3. Both Sides Now
4. River (featuring Corinne Bailey Rae
)
5. Sweet Bird
6. Tea Leaf Prophecy (featuring Joni
Mitchell)
7. Solitude
8. Amelia (featuring Luciana Souza)
9. Nefertiti
10. The Jungle Line (featuring Leonard Cohen)
Herbie Hancock – Piano
Wayne Shorter – Soprano sax, tenor sax
Dave Holland – Bass
Vinnie Colaiuta - Drums
Lionel Loueke – Guitar
Having
just revisited and reviewed Herbie Hancock’s
remarkably assured debut album from 1962,
it is rather disorienting to hear this, his
latest CD. Whereas the first album was full
of funky rhythms and memorable tunes, the
new album consists largely of interpretations
of songs by Joni Mitchell. Apart from some
notable exceptions (including Both Sides
Now, Woodstock and Big Yellow Taxi),
Joni’s songs have usually struck me as interesting
without being catchy. You can’t imagine them
being whistled in the street by paper-boys.
In truth, many of Joni’s songs meander, held
together by the (often enigmatic) poetry in
the lyrics rather than any melodiousness in
the tunes. This makes them unsuitable for
jazz improvisation, which generally needs
a chord sequence containing enough substance
to bite on.
In
fact Herbie Hancock doesn’t so much improvise
upon the tunes as meditate around them. He
ignores songs from some of Joni Mitchell’s
jazzier albums, like Don Juan’s Reckless
Daughter and Mingus (even though
the latter included Hancock and Shorter among
the musicians). He reharmonises Both Sides
Now, leaving only hints of the original
melody. He also uses six guest vocalists (including
Joni herself) who mostly imitate Joni’s style
rather than interpreting the songs in their
own way. Together with the similar drifting
approach taken by the instrumentalists throughout
the album, this makes for sameness – very
different from the versatility we know Herbie
Hancock is capable of. Leonard Cohen doesn’t
even try to sing on The Jungle Line:
he recites it, emphasising its resemblance
to one of Rudyard Kipling’s verses. The eight
Mitchell compositions are supplemented by
two tunes – Wayne Shorter’s Nefertiti
and Duke Ellington’s Solitude – which
might have provided contrast, except that
they are interpreted in the same unfocused
manner as the album’s other pieces.
So
what does this album add up to? Herbie Hancock
is quoted as saying: "I wanted the lyrics
to be the foundation for this whole project,
for everything to stem from the lyrics and
their meaning." But what do the lyrics
mean? Many of Joni Mitchell’s lyrics are full
of personal imagery or surreal flights of
fancy. Their sense is often as indeterminate
as the music with which Hancock and Shorter
accompany them. Those who want to find significance
here will find it somehow, but lines like
"There’s a poppy snake in the dressing
room" leave me as puzzled and unmoved
as this album does.
Tony
Augarde