Herbie Hancock
Maiden Voyage

How can one forget the sea, forget the terrible ecstasy of surrendering to the perpetual wave that drags towards marvelously unknown and familiar distances.

Only now, as I try to write about it, do I realize I had unconsciously thought of my "lost idea" of the sea, when I rediscovered this immense album.

1965, Herbie Hancock is 25 years old and has been part of Miles Davis's quintet for two years. The music inside him, however, needs to find a different form: "...music itself has no value; what makes music valid is the positive effect on the people who go to listen to it. When I started thinking more about people, I approached music from the perspective of their lives rather than music itself..."
And the Hancock who in '65 introduces "Maiden Voyage," does away a bit with the cunning and unpredictability of Davis, but gives birth to an album that will be the manifesto of his poetics.

The name is already a declaration of intent: "Maiden Voyage" is the inaugural journey of a ship, setting sail for the first time; accompanied by the swinging rhythm of Hancock's piano, the slow rocking of Ron Carter's double bass, and the splashing of the waves that comes from Tony Williams's brushes.

Suddenly, the trumpet of Freddie Hubbard and the tenor sax of George Coleman join their voices: timid at first, as if frightened by the sight of the land just left and the difficulty of overcoming its nostalgia; a sharp note, like a subdued cry, comes to break the initial fear, and the voices become more assured towards the open sea...

...Hancock and Williams continue to weave a watery web without horizons, but it is Coleman who at this point takes the helm: he describes the wind, which gently fills the sails, letting himself be carried away, swiftly, aimlessly. Thus, he finds himself traversing the same waters multiple times with slight dismay. Again, back and forth the ship moves, awkwardly, making small steps in the immense belly of the sea...

...the same trail guides Hubbard's trumpet: it raises its voice several times, proudly taking charge of its journey's course; just as many times, it falls into despair, due to its impotence against fate. It knows, by now, the laws of the sea, it can fall and rise with greater strength; but in the moment of greatest confidence, a sudden acceleration, Williams's drum roll announces a shadow in the sky, a vortex from which life cannot escape. Until the colors of the journey's beginning are found again, both sunrise and sunset, like the splendid two notes fused together by Hubbard...

...the piano keys are now left alone: Hancock traverses them as if they were steps, retracing the path carved in the sea; Carter almost has to forget his instrument, to immerse himself in the depth of memory.

Sounds on the verge of onomatopoeia speak of man's journey: and if the meaning were nothing but an eternal return?

Literature, Philosophy: maybe they are too much for a 7:47 min track.

One thing, however, is certain: music has words, ideas, and dreams. And this is enough to listen to it and believe in what it says. So, if you want to discover the idea of the sea that you have inside, you cannot fail to listen to what these artists narrate in this album. Immense.