When you see a musician play on stage, don’t you wonder to yourself, “he makes it look so easy!” How does an artist get to that level? Inherent talent? There are volumes of talented musicians who never cut the mustard. Genes? You could fit the number of great jazz offspring into a Smart Car. No, my friends, as the career of an artist like trumpeter Eddie Henderson attests, nothing replaces good old hard work and discipline. It’s been the secret since time began, as Solomon (no slouch himself) decried, ‘he who heeds discipline shows the way to life, but he who hates correction is stupid.”
Henderson, who has a hot new disc with John Scofield (For All We Know) has been on some of the most important jazz bands in modern times, most notably Herbie Hancock’s stellar “Mwandishi” group back in the early 70s. He got his instruction early, in fact his first actual lesson came from the man who invented jazz trumpet playing. Henderson recalls, “I started playing music when I was 9 years old. I went to the San Francisco Conservatory, but my first personal music teacher was Louis Armstrong! My mother knew him. She was in the original Cotton Club; Billie Holiday was her roommate. So, she knew everyone in show business, then when I was nine years old she took me down to hear Satchmo at the Apollo Theatre. He gave me my first lesson on his trumpet on how to make a sound. The second time I went Iearned how to play “Flight of the Bumble Bee,” and he fell out of his chair laughing! When he got up, he said, “Man, that was some of the baddest (stuff) I’ve ever heard!”He told his wife to bring me one of his books that had 10 of his solos transcribed. He wrote on the top of it, “To little Eddie, this is to warm up your chops. Keep playing! Love, Satchmo.”
From there, Henderson continued his path, coming across once again wisdom from one of jazz’s most important teachers, as he continues his path, “Then, I took private lessons and went to the SF Conservatory of Music when I was in high school. I was there from age 14 to 17. Then I got into Miles Davis. I met him because my step father was his doctor in San Francisco when I was coming home from high school. Miles was staying out our house that week. That’s when the light went on for me. I said, “that’s what I want to do for the rest of my life.”
“I didn’t really didn’t know who he was at the time.My stepfather took me to his gig, but I was actually more impressed by Coltrane and Cannonball Adderley. When he left town, I listened to all of his records that my stepfather had, and I played along with all of them. So, when Miles came back into town, I played for him something from his record Sketches of Spain and didn’t miss a note. He listened and made a comment to me,“You sound good, but that’s me.” From that point on, even though I became a doctor, I’ve been on the path to just play my music.”
It is at this juncture in Eddie’s life that the importance of discipline played a key factor in his life. Not only did he live the life of a growing jazz musician, but he upped the ante by simultaneously becoming a psychiatric doctor! “Take hold of discipline! Don’t let go; guard her!” are proverbs that Henderson adhered to at this stage of his journey. He recalls the impetus, “My stepfather was a doctor. He and I didn’t get along; he just said, “I’m a doctor, the greatest thing in the world, and you’ll never be a doctor. You’re not smart enough.” So I just said, “Oh, yeah? Watch this!” to prove him wrong. I went to UC Berkeley undergraduate school and to Howard University Medical School. I did my internship and residency in San Francisco for psychiatry.”
“I put myself through medical school and college by playing at night. I had to do it. When I went to school I never missed a class in my life. Other students who didn’t come to class would try to cram; the others would hang out in a jazz club at night, they would cram and also flunk out. But I did it because I was highly disciplined. I went to school every day, got home from school around 5:30, studied until 9:30 and then went out and played until 2:30 in the morning. Then I’d come home and studied until went to sleep. Did this from ’64-68.”
Through strict self control, Henderson was able to juggle two competing worlds and talents. “I joined Herbie Hancock in 1970,” he remembers, “ and that’s when I left the residency after two years, and then stayed with Herbie for 3 years. When that disbanded, I went back to San Francisco and practiced at a clinic, just general practice, for about 10 years. I told the head doctor there that I was really into music, and he was nice enough to let me go and come as I pleased when I had tours. He actually paid me when I was on tour, so that was a nice gig! I had my cake and ate it.”
His tenure with Hancock started because of his being a doctor, as Henderson points out, “He just came to San Francisco when I was doing my residency, and I knew all of his music from his records. But, he and I just talked about sports cars! He needed a trumpet player for one week, and he decided to try me, and that turned into the rest of my life!”
Henderson’s justifiably proud of his time with Hancock, “The Mwandishi band was definitely ahead of its time. Billy Hart was on drums, Buster Williams on bass, and you had Bennie Maupin on sax and Julian Priester on trombone. It felt special, but it was just a continuation of Miles’ Bitches Brew. It evolved into its own thing, but it was ahead of its time.”
Unfortunately, as the common story goes, artistic finance does not usually lead to monetary benefits. “Everyone made the same amount of money in the band,” says Henderson, “ and Herbie lost $30,000 in three years. That’s why he disbanded that band that I was in and became commercial and started The Headhunters and he got his big hit (“Chameleon”). He just disbanded us, so I moved back to San Francisco and started practicing medicine. “
As for his latest release, even that had its genesis many years ago. Eddie points out that, “I met John Scofield about 25 years ago when he was with Dave Liebman, who used to be with my band out in San Francisco. Then, Dave called me to do a week with him in The Village Vanguard in the early 80s, Scofield was in the band. When I moved back to NY in the 90s, I was in Kenny Barron’s group, and on one of the records he used John Scofield. After that, John asked me to be a special guest with his trio. We did a two to three week tour, and it was such a beautific thing without the typical trumpet-sax thing, that I wanted to that different sound (for my own recording), so I used John on this particular venture with no piano. The chemistry was just perfect with Billy Drummond on drums and Doug Weiss on bass. I worked with Doug with Al Foster. With the chemistry of the personnel, I knew it was going to work.”
Due to the present economic situation, discipline once again plays a role in Henderson’s life, as evidenced by the recording process. He observes, “That record was done with no rehearsal. It was just 6 hours in one day. John never got the opportunity to record us after playing in Catalina’s, so the first time I got a record deal I jumped at the chance to see if he was available, and there we are.” This is a big contrast to the days when he recorded his classic Blue Note discs in the halcyon days of albums. “That was during the fusion days in the 70s. Those projects took 12 hours a day, 7 days a week for a month! The budget allowed it back then. $80,000, $100,000, so you could stretch it out and take your time, and overdub. Herbie had a bigger budget then than the way records are done nowadays. But this latest album was just over 5 hours!”
Henderson ability to look back and see where he’s been helps confirm the direction that he is going. He observes, “I played with Billy Harper’s group for about 12 years. I played with Tyner’s big band and sextet, so at this point, I’m trying to be more selective in how I spend my energy, and really focus on who I am. I look for the material. I’ve been lucky-I’ve never done any kind of gig or recording that wasn’t in tune with the type of music I’m into. I’ve never had to play just to pay the rent. I look for the musicians who have the same musical ideas, and I can tell by the way they phrase if we would play well together.Good music. That’s what I’m here for! “
Most importantly, Henderson has not only learned the importance of discipline in living a successful life, he embodies it, as he explains, “Medicine and music go hand in hand, like the Biblical adage, “Physician, heal thyself.” I can’t help anybody else unless I’m cool, and music is the thing that cools me out.”
“To be a good musician, you have to be disciplined, just like with being a doctor. And, you have to have the God-given talent. Being a musician is just as serious as being a doctor, once you reach a certain point. People think that it’s all just fun and games, travelling around and sight-seeing. But, no, when I’m touring around, it’s like training as a decathalon athlete. As soon as I wake up in the morning, the horn is in my mouth warming up, and it’s on and off, all day long! When people come and hear you play, you have an obligation. So, you try to focus all of your energy so that you’re ready when you walk on the bandstand.” If you don’t succeed at self control, it will eventually show in your life, and as Solomon warned his students, “At the end of your life you will groan, when your flesh and body are spent. You will say, “How I hated discipline! How my heart spurned correction! I would not obey my teachers or listen to my instructors.”
But Eddie is able to look back on his productive life with no regrets, “I’m 70 years old. It’s a combination of good diet, exercise, and good genes. I went to my 50th high school reunion last year, and I thought that I was in the wrong year. All of these people were with walkers and crutches and stuff. I ran into the bathroom and looked in the mirror and said, “whew! What a relief!” It’s a great feeling to be able to look in the mirror in the twilight of your life, as Dr. Eddie Henderson can, and with no regrets reflect one of the secrets of life, “For these commands are a lamp, this teaching is a light, and the corrections of discipline are the way to life.”