Herbie Hancock is both a master and child at heart in a life-affirming Milwaukee concert

You've got to expect the unexpected with Herbie Hancock.

It's a key reason, less than 10 days shy of turning 84, that he's a music legend, from playing in Miles Davis' quintet to collecting 14 Grammy Awards, including a rare album of the year win for a jazz artist.

But I'd wager no one at Hancock's sold-out Pabst Theater concert in Milwaukee Tuesday night predicted he'd start his two-hour-and-20-minute set throwing his hands up in fright at the "sight" of an imaginary T-Rex.

Settling in behind his Korg synthesizer, Hancock warned the audience that the start of his show-opening overture — inspired, he said, by prehistoric times — was going to be "weird."

And boy was it, wonderfully so. Hancock elicited primordial sound effects straight from a "Jurassic Park" movie as drummer Trevor Lawrence Jr. made ominous rhythms and Lionel Loueke made his guitar moan sliding his pinky finger carefully up and down the sixth string. The only moment in that opening two minutes that resembled "conventional" music was a fleeting, faint blare on the trumpet by fellow jazz great Terence Blanchard.

But by the time the 28-minute overture concluded, the sextet had been as ferocious as a pack of bloodthirsty velociraptors, and majestic as a pack of gliding pterodactyls.

Six minutes in, Blanchard's trumpet soared and tumbled bombastically, before saxophonist Devin Daniels took the reins with a creamy, dreamy solo. At the 11-minute mark, Hancock jumped from avant-garde synth stabs to elegant, note cascading runs on the baby grand. Then at the 20-minute mark, the band receded to a hush as Loueke struck the strings with soft, meticulous notes, accompanied by rhythmic clicking scatting, a moment of sheer exhilaration by restraint, as Blanchard, decked out in glittery sneakers, shuffling around in admiration. Later, when Hancock introduced Loueke, he said he had never heard anyone play guitar like him — but that had already been abundantly clear.

We were watching masters at work, there was no doubt about that — but we were also watching gleeful children at play. That imaginary T-Rex moment from Hancock turned out to be the perfect scene-setter.

The reason this music was so magical was not because of crisp craftsmanship and poised professionalism — although the set had plenty of that. It's because Hancock remains a child at heart, adventurous and filled, even in his twilight years, with wide-eyed wonder.

When he introduced Daniels, the band's youngest member, Hancock revealed that he was one of his former students at UCLA. Hancock suggested that he, now, was Daniels' student, that he was learning from him. And all six members were clearly learning from and leaning into each other, making this set very much alive with endless possibilities.

And that was thanks in part to their endless range.

Confident among the elders, Daniels showcased a different side of his talent with intoxicating, jittery sax flights during a 20-minute rendition of "Actual Proof" from 1974's "Thrust," a seminal album from Hancock's famed "Headhunters" group. During the performance, Loueke mutated his guitar again, at times recalling the alien-like squeals of a theremin, his mouth moving as he jammed like he was whispering in tongues. Bass great James Genus, of "Saturday Night Live" fame, similarly looked possessed during his own note-cascading solo, while drummer Lawrence, a subtle powerhouse in the pocket all night long, broke free with a knockout solo.

As fun as it was watching these musicians wow us, seeing Hancock light up with a bright smile or a bounce from behind the piano or synthesizer at the sound of a delicious twist was just as exhilarating. And his playing was extraordinary.

During a performance of "Footprints," a towering tribute to its recently departed composer and Hancock's "best friend" Wayne Shorter, Hancock's fingers danced across the ivory with the radiance and speed of a virtuoso a quarter his age. But when he strapped on the keytar for an 11-minute closing rendition of "Chameleon," Hancock was a kid again, dominating the song for its entirety, his fancy fingerwork escalating again, and again and again, reaching impossible peaks before ascending to further impossible peaks. It culminated with Hancock and Loueke face to face, jamming back and forth, their notes sounding like droids beeping back and forth in a "Star Wars" movie, ending with Hancock, 83-years-young, jumping up and down.

The childlike charm was also evident when he busted out the vocoder for "Come Running to Me," as he quipped about his voice being "out of range," his vocalization comically warbling through the distortion. But it was just the start of a 10-minute mid-song monologue that proved surprisingly poignant, with pearls of wisdom as he reflected on his impending 84th birthday.

"How many families are there on the planet?" he asked the crowd. A man in the audience was ready and yelled back the answer: "One."

"Every human being is irreplaceable," Hancock said movingly at one point.

Experiencing Hancock in concert Tuesday was irreplaceable, too.

4 takeaways from Herbie Hancock's Pabst Theater concert

• As Hancock took the stage Tuesday, he offered his Pabst Theater audience a little trivia: The Chicago native's first real professional gig was in Milwaukee, sitting in with Donald Byrd, at late jazz club Curro's. "I've got a connection with you," Hancock said proudly to a round of applause.

• Hancock was plenty chatty between performances, with many audience members taking the opportunity to talk back to him on the stage. The sweetest exchange was with a woman in the front row who told Hancock she had been a fan of his music since she was 2 years old. Hancock asked if the woman was born in the '70s (she said she was) and quipped that he was born then as well.

• Curiously, the house lights at the Pabst never went completely dark during the show — a request from Hancock himself, perhaps. No complaints here; the well-lit room didn't detract from the fireworks on stage, and the added light certainly made it easier for me to take notes during the show.

• If you missed Hancock Tuesday at the Pabst Theater, or you're just dying to see him again (I wouldn't blame you), he has one more show left in Wisconsin, Wednesday night at the Orpheum Theater in Madison. And, yes, there are still some seats available.

Editor's Note: This story has corrected the album title that featured "Actual Proof."

Contact Piet at (414) 223-5162 or plevy@journalsentinel.com. Follow him on X at @pietlevy or Facebook at facebook.com/PietLevyMJS.

This article originally appeared on Milwaukee Journal Sentinel: Herbie Hancock both a master and a child at heart at Milwaukee concert