50 Years Later: Herbie Hancock Follows Up ‘Headhunters’ With Visceral Album ‘Thrust’

Half a century of hindsight confirms that if ever there was a sequel that didn’t quite match up to the original, Herbie Hancock’s Thrust is it. As a followup to the stylistically groundbreaking and commercially successful Headhunters of the previous year, the keyboardist/composer’s fourteenth studio work sounds more like the album that should’ve preceded that title rather than followed it.

A quick look at the credits suggests as much. The leader’s multiple keyboards far outnumber the instrumental contributions of returnees from the prior record and drummer Mike Clark (in place of Harvey Mason). Likewise, the front cover image by Rob Springett depicts Herbie alone at a bank of keyboards inside a spaceship-like dome; it’s only on the back cover where all five musicians are pictured.

While technically accurate, the listing and the main image are nevertheless somewhat off the mark. There is no question that, from the very beginning of “Palm Grease,” the mix of electric piano, clavinet, and various synthesizers is densely interwoven with Paul Jackson’s bass and Bennie Maupin’s horns and flute. Yet the opening cut of four (notably the same number as its predecessor) simply doesn’t generate the same hypnotizing effect as, for instance, “Chameleon” from the preceding release. 

The eerie ambiance that arises from this LP’s thirty-eight-plus minutes is actually more like the otherworldly air of the Sextant record, which also came out in March 1973. And that’s appropriate in its own way, too: Thrust might well have been released right after that record as the next in a series of albums Hancock crafted ever-so-carefully upon his departure from Miles Davis’ ‘Second Great Quintet.’

Still, it’s a testament to Herbie’s bountiful imagination, as much as his creative bravery, that his Warner Brothers releases are just as worthy of hearing in their own right as their immediate successors. Still, Mwandishi and Crossings only hint at the technological advances Hancock would embark upon with subsequent projects.

The blend of instruments in the ten-plus-minute “Butterfly” might sound artificial in a slightly different context if Herbie were not so familiar with the devices’ workings. 

However, those textures ultimately indicate Thrust’s more visceral (as opposed to cerebral) impact. Still, the quintet’s musicianship sounds a bit forced and, more significantly, less unified than on Headhunters. 

Consequently, some shorter cuts interwoven with extended ones might’ve generated more cumulative momentum. The gritty funk of “Spank-A-Lee” might be considered an oversimplification of the sound of Hancock and the Headhunters–co-produced with the bandleader and long-time studio collaborator David Rubinson–yet it is nonetheless indicative of why Thrust stands as a somewhat unsung entry into Herbie’s lengthy discography. 

It remains a crucial component (albeit a somewhat misplaced one) in the progression that would continue with the fivesome’s final effort together on 1975’s Man-Child. There, the group’s array of instruments is augmented with electric guitars, a significant addition that foreshadowed Hancock’s use of an even more refined stylistic approach on “Rockit,” a major hit from the Future Shock long-player of a decade later.

All of which solidified the keyboardist/composer’s deservedly iconic status. And just as Herbie Hancock has refused to pigeonhole himself and/or simply churn out ‘more of the same’ over the years, so too a revamped lineup of Headhunters reconvened n the early 2000’s after a lengthy hiatus, most appropriately under the aegis of percussionists Clark and Summers.

A  stylish outing, wryly titled Speakers In The House, preceded the fall 2024 release of a second Ropeadope release, The Stuntman. Moving with all due confidence and grace into the new millennium—just like their former leader and mentor—the famous band combines independence with intelligence plus a will to experiment, a combustible combination almost but not quite as evident on the now fifty-year-old Thrust as on its influential predecessor.