Last minute jaunt down to Cork to catch Herbie Hancock in the Savoy. He's an absolute legend. Great band, great tunes, great jamming. I WANT one of those keyboard guitars or keytars!I only know the Headhunters album really well and his latest album of Joni Mitchell covers is straight-to-the-restaurant-playlist type stuff, but fucking hell when he plays a powerful solo piano improv with some major dramatics, and after rapturous applause simply drops into Canteloupe, you know you're in the prescence of a master. And so fucking cool.
Should also be noted, as the main man noted in his introduction - he's not used to introducing harmonica players - but just at the start of the solo, I was thinking to myself, harmonica? there's not much that can be done on a harmonica. Yeah, that was funny cause the harmonica dude was savage.
**rant warning** - the only complaint was these two old bags who came in about twenty minutes into the gig, pushed their way by me into a space that wasn't there, and one of them proceeded to close her eyes and girate her hips, rocking all over the place like, well, a spas. we were standing very close to the front, and this stupid bitch was making a right tit of herself. I mean I know you're old (mid 50's) and you like jazz but that doesn't give you free rein to act like a complete tosser. she tried to clap along to a tune that Herbie introduced as having seventeen beats in the bar, and was flopping around like she was trying to relive some long lost student days or something. I was thinking at the time, the only way you could be excused for that kind of shit is if you were on acid, and the wonderful prospect of being on acid at a Herbie Hancock gig notwithstanding, it was too depressing to think that she was tripping. at her age, it was just too pathetic, pissed me off no end. AND to boot, her hippie friend at one point stepped directly in front of me completely blocking my view, leaning her head in and peering around, as if there was something more to see. unbelievable idiots.