At 64, Bruce Hornsby’s still rewriting his job description with every record, and Absolute Zero might be his most ambitious pivot yet—a dense, genre-splintering collection that moves from minimalism to funk, chamber pop to retro soul, often within the same track. “I’ve spent my career mystifying the people who try to typecast me,” Hornsby shrugs. “It’s all about a long creative journey.”
And this particular journey began in an unexpected place: the video game NBA 2K16. As Hornsby tells it, he was tapped by Spike Lee to score the in-game film. “It was a very urban basketball scene,” he recalls, “and I thought, why the hell did he call me?” Rather than fake his way through hip-hop, Hornsby went back to the '70s R&B of his youth, recording drum tracks with his longtime collaborator Sonny Emory over ten Stevie Wonder classics.
One of those—Emory’s performance over “I Wish”—became the rhythmic spine of “Voyager One,” a standout track on Absolute Zero that Hornsby gleefully describes as “Steve Reich meets Prince.” The tune is all about a kid’s fascination with space, and it’s as joyful as it is intricate. “It’s probably the most extroverted song on the record,” he says. “It’ll be a blast to play live.”
The record is peppered with collaborations—why not, when your contact list includes Bon Iver, yMusic, The Staves, and Robert Hunter? Six of the songs, Hornsby notes, originated as film cues he wrote for Spike Lee. In fact, he estimates he’s composed over 230 pieces for Spike’s indie films and docs, from Red Hook Summer to The Sweet Blood of Jesus. “They’re often short—one minute, maybe two,” he explains. “So I’d take a section, double it up, and build a full song from that.” He calls the title track a prime example of this reverse-engineering: born as background, reimagined as centerpiece.
For those surprised to learn of his long relationship with Lee—understandable, since most of Hornsby’s credits have lived in limited-release art house films—there’s a strange poetry in how his more obscure projects quietly bleed into his albums. “You probably missed them because they weren’t exactly BlackKklansman,” he laughs. Still, he managed to contribute music to Oldboy (a “bit of a debacle,” he admits), and even played saloon-style piano for the white supremacist meeting scene in BlackKklansman. “That was Spike throwing me a bone,” he says.
Then there’s Justin Vernon. The Bon Iver mastermind has not only collaborated with Hornsby on several projects—he’s also helped shine a renewed spotlight on the veteran songwriter. “We’re working together now, actually,” Hornsby says. “There’s a mutual back and forth. He might get something from me, but I definitely get something from him.” Hornsby credits Vernon’s 22, A Million as a major leap forward—one that’s pushed him toward more experimental vocal and production choices. “He creates these beautiful soundscapes to sing over,” Hornsby says. “I’ve definitely taken some tricks from that.”
Still, for all the new tricks, Hornsby hasn’t lost his grounding. He worked again with the late Robert Hunter of Grateful Dead lore, turning unused Hunter lyrics into the wistful “Take You There (Misty).” The parenthetical is a sly nod to Father John Misty, whose style Hornsby says inspired the song’s tone. “Hunter used to just drop lyrics in my inbox—one a year, maybe,” he recalls. “What a gift.”
And for those still trying to fit Hornsby into a genre box—good luck. “Genre’s always been a millstone around my neck,” he says. “Early on, I got pegged as adult contemporary because ‘The Way It Is’ was a top 40 hit. But that song had two improvised solos and was about racism—hardly formulaic.” Since then, he’s played with the Dead, dabbled in jazz, bluegrass, atonal classical, and everything in between. “I still get nasty letters asking why I don’t make records like I used to,” he says. “But that’s not my thing. It never was.”
What is his thing? Restlessness. Curiosity. The pursuit of what’s just around the creative corner. “I’m always striving for something better—trying to improve as a singer, a songwriter, a player,” he says. “Virtuosity matters to me. Not to show off, but to explore. It’s about the pursuit of the unattainable.”
Absolute Zero may take its name from the coldest theoretical temperature, but Hornsby’s output has never burned hotter. Just don’t expect him to do it the same way twice.
Listen to the interview above and then check out the videos below.
