Bobby Hutcherson: Youthful Exuberance

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Jerk my soul around! I dont hear laughter in music. Play me a phrase thats gonna make me smile and laugh. A lot of these music schools dont teach anything about emotion.
Bobby HutchersonWatching vibraphonist Bobby Hutcherson play his instrument is like dropping in on someone jiving with a dear old friend. He banters with the vibes as he plays, weaving his lanky body to the rhythm he's laying down. Suddenly he will frown down at the board, appearing to question its tone as though it were an insolent child or has made an odd statement with which he disagrees. But then Hutcherson will grin mischievously at something shared only between him and the vibes, his still youthful features will light up and the friends are on the same page again.

Hutcherson is one of the blueprints of jazz, an innovative composer and leader who redefined the vibraphone via his unique four mallet style of playing and moved it into the challenging post-bop era, enduring the musical and societal shifts of the '60s and '70s without sacrificing his artistic visions. After paying his dues as a sideman, Hutcherson recorded his first session as a leader with the classic Dialogue (Blue Note, 1965) and from there he eventually reached the position of prominence that he holds today.

Hutcherson was born on January 27th, 1941 in Los Angeles. Like many jazz players, Hutcherson started out on the piano, but a stroll past a record store one afternoon changed the path he would take. "I heard this record with [vibraphonist] Milt Jackson and [pianist] Thelonious Monk and [trumpeter] Miles [Davis] and [drummer] Kenny Clarke and [bassist] Percy Heath, and they were playing 'Bemsha Swing,' Hutcherson recalled from his Bay Area home during a phone interview. "I just really enjoyed how Milt made me feel. How can I say it? He made me feel rich. I thought that was a wonderful trip that he [took me on]. So I bought the record, wore it out and I said, 'You know, I'd like to play the vibraphone.' A friend of mine, Herbie Lewis, a wonderful bassist, he had a trio and they used to play school dances. He said, 'If you buy a vibraphone you can [join] our group and you can play dances and meet girls'. I said 'Oh, that sounds great!'

"I worked with my dad, who was a bricklayer, all summer and saved up some money and my mom took me over to a music store in Los Angeles, [and] I bought the instrument. And so [Lewis] came over and he said, 'Great, we're gonna play a concert in two weeks.' I said, 'I can't do that, I know nothing about this instrument at all, I can't do it.' So I [told him] to take a felt pencil and write down on the bars what notes to hit.

"I go up to Pasadena and we're ready to come out, these young kids, and the stage manager came up and said, 'Okay, you kids are on next.' Then he says, 'Oh Bobby, by the way, I saw a bunch of stuff written all over your bars. I took a wet towel and wiped them off for you'. I said, 'No you didn't!' He said, 'Yes, I did. Now get out there and break a leg!' And that's what happened, I broke a leg!

A moment like this might have turned others away from music, but Hutcherson embraced that disastrous debut and he defines it as the turning point in his musical career.

"At that point I said, 'I'm in the boxing ring and music has just floored me. I'm laying here and everybody's laughing and making fun [of me]. Am I gonna get up off the floor or [am] I gonna lie [here] and say 'I've had enough, forget it?' I got up off the floor and said, 'Okay, I can see I wasn't prepared but I want to be a participant, so let me learn how to be a good sport and go on from here and be truly dedicated to the music.'

Despite the always persistent death knell ringing for jazz, Hutcherson believes things have changed for the better, although he does question the total merit of music schools.

"You don't play this music to get rich. You play it for the thrill of playing another note. And after that note, the next note and after that, the next. It's very hard to distinguish a lot of people who are playing because they're learning from records or going to these music schools that are teaching music lessons that have nothing to do with heart and soul, Hutcherson complained. "That's [what] seems to be missing. Jerk me around! Jerk my soul around! Make me cry! I don't hear laughter in music. Play me a phrase that's gonna make me smile and laugh. Make me sad. Make me feel like it's raining. A lot of these music schools and stuff don't teach anything about emotion. The teachers have very little emotion!

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