Jurassic Groove: Herbie Unleashes the “Prehistoric Predators” at the wang theater
Design by Charlotte Heintz
by Grace grandprey
Last Wednesday, a friend of mine had an extra ticket to see Herbie Hancock at the Boch Center Wang Theatre. I know what you’re thinking: Isn’t Herbie that 11-year-old who performed with the Chicago Symphony Orchestra in 1952? Didn’t know that charming little anecdote? Well, he’s aged a few years since then — 85, and still rockin’ — but he’s just as extraordinary, if not a little more of a seasoned pianist.
The band’s particular introduction to the Boston crowd immediately showcased their mastery. It consisted of a twenty-minute improvisation inspired by “Prehistoric Predator” — a preset on Herbie’s Korg keyboard. Maybe it was their sheer musical expertise that brought “Jurassic World” to mind — that, and maybe the name of the preset — but for the rest of the show, I began to see them as sort of “jazz dinosaurs.” And it wasn’t in the sense that they were old or obsolete. Rather, they truly are breathtaking, legendary innovators.
So, let’s get to it. On keys, of course, was the great Herbie Hancock, or as some might consider, the Indoraptor. If you’re not a Jurassic geek, fret not! The Indoraptor is a highly intelligent, adaptable, genetic hybrid, which I would say represents the tireless innovation of a certain musical “chameleon.” As one of the first jazz musicians to push the boundaries of musical technology, heavily incorporating synthesizers, Herbie has embraced musical exploration with varying musical colors, effortlessly blending jazz with R&B, electro and funk, and never losing a sense of adventure — or humor for that matter!
“We’re all a little bit crazy,” he said, presenting James Genus to the crowd. During the show, the electric bassist took on the towering presence of the Brachiosaurus. Like the dinosaur’s majestic and peaceful symbol in “Jurassic World,” Genus is an incredibly humble, formidable backbone to the group. When he’s not playing with Herbie on the 2025 North American Fall Tour, you’re likely to spot him in the Saturday Night Live Band. As first-call sideman for many jazz legends, including Dianne Reeves and the late Horace Silver, it’s no surprise he proved an invaluable rhythmic presence for the ensemble Wednesday night.
Next up is trumpeter, Terrance Blanchard, who “must be an octopus” according to Herbie. From the rim of his little brass bell, what feels like an entire horn section radiates through the auditorium. Correct me if I’m wrong, but I wouldn’t hesitate to place those horns atop the great Triceratops. His powerful and distinctive sound commands attention wherever he leads. In his four-and-a-half-decade-long career, he is the first Black composer to have an opera performed at the Metropolitan Opera in the institution’s 138-year history: two in fact, including “Fire Shut Up in My Bones” in 2021 and “Champion: An Opera in Jazz” in 2023. He also arranged their performance that night of Herbie’s 1966 “Footprints.” Blanchard is a force of nature in his field: He’s written more than 80 film and tv scores, and he’s a two-time Academy Award nominee and seven-time Grammy winner. “I have a gift,” said Herbie. “I can snatch people up — Fshoop!” He chuckled. “. . . Wave a few dollars in the air.”
Thus, it should come as no surprise that he also snatched up a 27-year-old T-Rex: drummer Jaylen Petinaud. Petinaud is a master of technique and styles, collaborating with musicians ranging from small jazz clubs to 20-piece orchestras to grand broadway shows. The dynamic and thunderous strides of his beats place him in a leading role in the music’s ecosystem. Herbie marveled at Petinaud’s age: “You know that phrase, ‘Jazz is dead’?” My sister’s boyfriend would’ve joked, oh my god yes, Ryan Gosling saved Jazz! Instead, Herbie praised Petinaud as one of many “young musicians [who] continue to arrive.”
25 years Petinaud’s senior is our last member, Lionel Louke. His journey toward becoming a well-renowned guitarist and vocalist started relatively late in the game. While he initially learned percussion, he was heavily inspired by his brother and — more importantly — his brother’s guitar. But, like many siblings possessive of their personal items, Herbie’s brother never allowed him to touch it until the age of 17. Thankfully he finally did because his intricate fingerstyle is one of a kind. In the concert he navigated complex polyrhythms, seamlessly linking contrasting tempos that otherwise could be deemed unimaginable to jigsaw together. So, drumroll please for the intelligent and agile Velociraptor of the group! His technical mastery complements the lean, instantaneous movements of this predator mid-chase, captivating the audience through his percussive, Afro-pop-influenced vocals.
Just to reiterate, I wouldn’t call Herbie or any member of his jazzylicious crew “prehistoric.” In fact, I am but one witness to their continuous discovery and rediscovery. And, man, did these “prehistoric predators” roar!
In their rendition of “Actual Proof,” a song off Herbie’s 1974 album “Thrust,” their execution became a structured hunt: Each player adopted a distinct predatory approach during their solos. Herbie, the alpha of the pack, chased the keyboard with calculated precision; Genus scavenged the lower frequencies with gleeful abandon; Blanchard ambushed the audience with sharp, sudden strikes; Petinaud coordinated with the group in a display of cooperative hunting; and Loueke camouflaged his complex melodies, stalking his prey with stealth. Following an enthusiastic 40-second applause and standing ovation, Herbie bit through a chuckle. He then leaned toward the microphone, his expression playful, exclaiming “Ouuuch!” and making a show of being musically wounded.
Overall, the night was a vibrant celebration of ‘70s jazz-funk fusion. In a striking contrast to the set’s more explosive moments, “Butterfly” showcased refined artistry and subtlety with an elegant and hypnotic arrangement. Before unleashing a hard funk groove with the unrecorded hit “Secret Sauce,” Herbie switched on a vocoder, warning us in a robotic voice of a little cautionary tale you might recall: “The Terminator.” This served as a call to reflect on the world before sweetly reminding us that “we need each other.” Following those words the band launched into a dazzling display of jibing, fluid rhythm and harmonic depth. Afterward, Herbie whipped out a keytar for “Hang Up Your Hang Ups / Rockit / Spider” — an intense medley of alien-like sounds, much befitting a Halloween monster bash of Jurassic proportions—sustaining a series of jumping jacks with Loueke as they played on.
The concert concluded with Herbie, an undeniable master behind the keys, performing the iconic “Chameleon.” In a final, heartwarming act of camaraderie, the five musicians, having celebrated each other all night, embraced for their final bow. Ladies and gentlemen: the honorary dinosaurs of the night.