Herbie Hancock, pianist and composer, is known for such a huge assortment of accomplishments, there’s no way to distill any of it. Of course, Chris Farley confusing Herbie with John probably ranks pretty high up there. But before that occurrence or having a deejay perform with his ensemble, Hancock sought to work the line between well wrought jazz stuffs and popular music.

As an extension of his work in Miles Davis’ electric groups of the late ‘60s, Hancock eventually headed out on his own, assembling a pretty talented ensemble of his own. Of the last few years of the ‘60s and into the following decade, the band leader conceived of so many vastly different ways to voice jazz instruments in an increasingly rock styled set up that there aren’t more than two consecutive efforts that are similar. That’s a bonus, though. And considering Maiden Voyage still ranks as one of the better acoustic jazz albums ever recorded, there’s no shortage of Herbie related discs to track down.

For whatever reason, though, a number of his recordings, as they’ve aged, haven’t been able to maintain the wide appreciation as that aforementioned acoustic affair. The band leader’s electric stuff from the early seventies, which counted huge ensembles playing Hancock’s arrangements, don’t count a buncha mainstream fans. But even if they should, 1969’s Fat Albert Rotunda seems to have been all but forgotten.

As the title suggests, the compositions are tied to Bill Cosby’s character of the same name. But that cartoon didn’t hit television sets until a few years latter. Apparently, the disc was recorded for Cosby as he’d secured a televised special. And if you take in any of the albums from Cosby’s own music career, it’s not too surprising that Hancock conjured up this brew of funk, soul and popular dance sounds for the occasion.

Each of the seven cuts on Fat Albert Rotunda don’t clock in at phenomenally long run times as some of Hancock’s later, funkier fair would. But in these collected tracks, the array of musical ideas hit upon, developed, exploited for full funkiness and abandoned is pretty amazing to hear.

The disc’s second track, “Far Mama,” could and perhaps should be the theme song to every sitcom dating from the ‘70s. There’s a decent amount of Hancock improvising over the accumulated groove here, but with the song being less than four minutes in length, the main melodic statement gets put to good use. Somehow, Hancock’s joyous and animated track doesn’t get boring. That figure somehow winds up being so pleasing that the song warrants back to back listens. Really.

The following track being a bummer isn’t even an issue since it’s surrounded by other strong compositions, though. The title track is pretty solid, but the following “Lil Brother” is all jaunty soul strutting. It’s still the jazzier side of the Meters or any other occasionally instrumental group. But it should sate rare groove aficionados. More importantly, it should please anyone even remotely interested in electric jazz, funk or soul. Or just good music.