Herbie Hancock - My Point Of View: The Blue Note Session Guide

Why is My Point Of View considered an essential jazz record?

My Point Of View is Herbie Hancock's second album as a leader, recorded in 1963 for Blue Note Records (BLP 4126/BST 84126). The session features Donald Byrd on trumpet, Grachan Moncur III on trombone, Hank Mobley on tenor sax, Grant Green on guitar (two tracks), Chuck Israels on bass, and a teenage Tony Williams on drums. It's essential because it captures Hancock at the threshold-still a sideman on the Miles Davis Quintet, but beginning to assert his own compositional voice. The lineup alone tells you this wasn't a standard date. Alfred Lion gave Hancock the room, and the kid didn't waste it.

Why is My Point Of View considered a "Holy Grail" for vinyl collectors?

Original Blue Note mono pressings from 1963 command serious attention in the collector market, though this title doesn't reach the four-figure stratosphere of Idle Moments or The Sidewinder. What makes it grail-worthy is the convergence: Rudy Van Gelder's engineering, a young Tony Williams (still in his teens), and Hancock compositions that bridge hard bop and the modal experiments he'd pursue throughout the decade. The Tone Poet Series reissue from Blue Note offers an all-analog chain from the original master tapes, giving modern collectors access to Van Gelder's sonic blueprint without liquidating a retirement fund. That's the smart play here.

Quick Stats

Tracklist

Side A:
1. "Blind Man, Blind Man"
2. "A Tribute to Someone"
3. "King Cobra"

Side B:
4. "The Pleasure Is Mine"
5. "And What If I Don't"

Start the stream. Let the atmosphere settle before we look at the wax.

The Needle Drop: A Studio Full of Futures

You slide the record from its sleeve-if it's the Tone Poet reissue, the weight feels right, the vinyl thick and flat, the label reproduction exact. The original jacket photo shows Hancock in profile, young and thoughtful, looking off-frame like he's calculating chord voicings in his head. Which he probably was.

The stylus lands. "Blind Man, Blind Man" opens with a unison head that feels urgent but not rushed. Donald Byrd's trumpet has that bright, declarative tone he carried through the early '60s. Grachan Moncur III's trombone adds a darker undertow. And then Hancock enters-clean, percussive, already speaking in the harmonic language that would define his Blue Note era. The tempo sits around 132 BPM, a brisk walk with purpose. This isn't background music. It's foreground listening that rewards your full attention. Pour something neat. Bourbon works. Scotch works better if it's smoky.

The session was recorded on March 6, 1963, at Van Gelder Studio in Englewood Cliffs. Herbie was 23. Tony Williams was 17. Both were already in Miles Davis's working band, which means they were absorbing the modal revolution in real time-nightly. That fluency shows up here, especially on "King Cobra," where Williams plays with a polyrhythmic confidence that feels decades ahead of his age.

The Nerd Sheet: Why This Session Still Matters

Let's talk numbers and lineage, because that's where the story gets sharper.

The Discogs Snapshot: Original Blue Note pressings of My Point Of View don't hit the stratospheric Want-to-Have ratios of something like Lee Morgan's The Sidewinder, but the median sale price for a clean VG+ original hovers between $80 and $150 depending on label variant. The "West 63rd Street" address pressings carry a small premium. The Division of Liberty reissues from the late '60s? Those are bargain-bin finds, and honestly, they sound thin compared to the Van Gelder originals or the Tone Poet reissue. You can find the full album details on Wikipedia if you want to fall down the discography rabbit hole.

Session Synergy: This wasn't a random assemblage of names. Hancock had been playing with Donald Byrd since the late '50s-Byrd was a mentor figure who'd already led Hancock into the Blue Note orbit. Hank Mobley was a Blue Note mainstay, and his inclusion here gave the session a hard-bop anchor. Grant Green appears on two tracks ("A Tribute to Someone" and "The Pleasure Is Mine"), and his presence is crucial. Green's single-note lines have this crystalline clarity that cuts through the horn section without stepping on anyone. He's not showboating. He's conversing.

Chuck Israels, often overlooked in the liner note excitement, was Bill Evans's bassist at the time. His walking lines here are economical and melodic-never busy, always supportive. And Tony Williams? He was still a teenager. He wouldn't turn 18 until December of that year. Listen to his ride cymbal work on "Blind Man, Blind Man." It's not just timekeeping. It's commentary.

The Musical DNA:
This is not a record that announces itself. It works quietly. My Point of View doesn’t trade in flashy themes or obvious devices; its influence lives in the architecture. Listen to Hancock’s voicings on “A Tribute to Someone.” The chords are wide but never vague, spacious yet emotionally weighted. That balance—openness without drift - became a model for modern modal balladry. Pianists study this record the way architects study blueprints. Not to copy it. To understand how restraint creates tension, and how harmony can suggest motion without ever raising its voice. This is where a lot of later jazz learned how to breathe..

The Hancock Catalog Context: My Point Of View sits between Takin' Off (1962) and Inventions and Dimensions (1963). Takin' Off had "Watermelon Man," which became a hit and a millstone. Everyone wanted another one. Hancock didn't give it to them. Instead, he pushed into more angular, exploratory territory. My Point Of View is where you hear him testing the edges of post-bop without abandoning swing. It's not free jazz, but it's not playing it safe either.

Grab a copy of this Tone Poet reissue at Miles Waxey and hear what $34.99 buys you in terms of analog fidelity. It's not a gamble. It's a sure thing.

The Technical Scrutiny: What You're Actually Hearing

If you're holding the Tone Poet reissue, you're holding the product of Kevin Gray's mastering and RTI's pressing plant. That's the gold standard for contemporary audiophile reissues. Gray had access to the original master tapes, which means this is an all-analog chain-no digital step in the middle. You hear it in the transient snap of Williams's snare, the way Byrd's trumpet has air around it, the resonance in Mobley's tenor. The soundstage is wide but not artificially enhanced. It's the room, captured honestly.

Original pressings carry the Van Gelder stamp in the deadwax, usually hand-etched with his initials. If you're hunting originals, look for the "ear" logo from Plastylite pressing plant and the "West 63rd Street" label address. Those are the first-run pressings. The "New York USA" labels are later but still good. The Division of Liberty reissues from the late '60s used a different cutting source and the results are audibly flatter-less depth, less presence.

Frequency response on the Tone Poet is faithful across the spectrum. The bass doesn't boom, it breathes. The cymbals don't sizzle, they shimmer. And there's tape hiss-yes, it's there, faint and honest. That's not a flaw. That's proof that what you're hearing is analog, not digitally scrubbed.

Mood and Pairing: This is a late-afternoon record, not a midnight one. It's got energy but not aggression. It's cerebral but not cold. Pour a glass of something amber. Sit in good light. Let the record remind you that listening is an active verb, not a passive state. Best time of day? 4 PM, when the sun is starting to slant and you've got an hour before dinner. Best pairing? Single malt, neat. Or a well-made old fashioned if you want something with a little more structure.

Context & Afterlife: The Kid Who Became a Legend

Herbie Hancock was born Herbert Jeffrey Hancock on April 12, 1940, in Chicago. By age 11, he was performing Mozart with the Chicago Symphony Orchestra. By his early twenties, he was in the Miles Davis Quintet alongside Wayne Shorter, Ron Carter, and Tony Williams-a rhythm section that would redefine jazz rhythm. That's the context surrounding My Point Of View. It's not a debut. It's not a breakthrough. It's a snapshot of a musician in transition, caught between the hard-bop tradition and the modal future.

Hancock is still alive, still creating, still pushing. He turned 84 in 2024. His career spans seven decades, from Blue Note hard bop to Mwandishi-era fusion to the electro-funk of "Rockit." But if you want to hear him at the moment when he was all potential and no compromise, this is the record.

The cultural afterlife of My Point Of View is quieter than some of his later work, but it's no less important. Jazz educators use this album to teach post-bop harmony. Session musicians study the interplay between Hancock and Williams. And collectors? They know this is the deep cut that separates the serious diggers from the casual streamers.

Collector's Corner: The Final Audit

Here's the honest take: Unless you're a completist or you've got a sentimental attachment to owning an original pressing, the Tone Poet reissue is the smart buy. It's cut from the original tapes. It's mastered by Kevin Gray. It's pressed at RTI. You're getting 95% of the sonic experience of a clean original pressing at a fraction of the cost and none of the risk.

If you do want to chase an original, focus on the "West 63rd" label address and make sure the seller provides deadwax photos. Look for the Van Gelder stamp. Ask about the matrix numbers. And be realistic about grading-VG+ on a 60-year-old record is honest wear, not a dealbreaker.

But for most of us? The Tone Poet is the move. Grab one from the Miles Waxey bins and spend the money you saved on another record. Or bourbon. Probably bourbon.

The Last Word

My Point Of View doesn't announce itself with a hit single or a flashy cover. It's a working musician's album-crafted, considered, and confident. It's Herbie Hancock saying, "Here's what I hear. Here's where I'm going." And he went far. But this is where he started making those moves on his own terms, under his own name, with a band full of people who trusted him.

Does your copy have the RVG stamp in the deadwax, or are you rocking the Tone Poet reissue? Tell us what you're spinning in the comments. We want to hear your runout numbers and your listening rituals.