Miles Davis (1926 – 1991)
That Sound
There is a real intensity to Miles Davis’ trumpet playing, which makes sense since by all accounts there was a real intensity about the man himself. There is a thin current of fierce anger bubbling under the surface of much of his music, there is an uncompromising honesty, and there is tremendous beauty as well. Most of all there is a deep and abiding loneliness.
Musician after musician has tried to replicate that sound by copying Davis’ techniques, playing behind the beat, for example, or using a Harmon mute with the stem cut off and playing close to the microphone. Their failed efforts only underscore the uniqueness of what Miles Davis was able to communicate by blowing his horn.
There are few better ways to enter the world of jazz than through the music of Miles Davis. His discography, however, presents something of a minefield for the uninitiated. Miles played, and in fact pioneered, most of the major styles of jazz that existed in the second half of the last century. I love Steamin’ but hate You’re Under Arrest. I know a woman who thinks that Doo Bop is a great record, but can’t stand to listen to Blue Haze. There is no accounting for taste, but no matter how far Miles stretched in his search for something new, he (almost) always had that sound.
A Wrestling Metaphor
Some critics deride Miles’ technical ability because he most often stayed comfortably within the middle register. What this means is that he seldom played the highest or the lowest notes that the trumpet can play. On most wind and brass instruments, the highest and the lowest notes are the most difficult notes to play well. There are those who feel that, by staying in the middle register, Davis was making it too easy on himself. There are others who feel that Miles played essentially the same style for almost four decades, and kept himself sounding fresh by varying the context within which he was being heard. Those people are essentially correct.
There are people who claim that Ric Flair wrestled essentially the same match no matter who his opponent was. Those people are essentially correct. There are many people who feel that Miles Davis is the most important musical performer of the latter half of the 20th Century, and there are many people who would call Ric Flair the greatest professional wrestler of all time. Those people are not wrong.
Slam! Wrestling Hall-of-Famer Verne Seibert puts it best: “It’s not how many things you can do, it’s how many things you can do well.” Early in their careers, both Miles Davis and Ric Flair learned the value of working within their limitations. Both of them understood the value of playing to, and working to develop, their considerable strengths. Both are rightly numbered among the great artists of our time.
Genesis
Miles Davis grew up in East St. Louis. His father was a successful dentist, and his parents encouraged his interest in music. As a young man he was befriended by jazz great Clark Terry. In 1944 he moved to New York to attend the Julliard School of Music. Davis didn’t last long at the school, preferring instead to spend his time at the jazz clubs on 52nd Street. The hottest musician in New York at that time was the legendary bebop alto saxophonist and heroin fiend Charlie “Bird” Parker. In 1945, at the age of 19, Davis made his first recordings with the Charlie Parker quintet. Davis’ spare and moody solos contrasted sharply with Bird’s brilliant fireworks. In 1948, Davis left Parker and struck out on his own. He took with him a steely self-confidence, a wealth of musical knowledge, and in all likelihood an addiction to heroin.
The Birth of the Cool
Davis took to hanging out with a group of intellectuals and musicians including baritone saxophonist Gerry Mulligan, and composer, arranger, and pianist John Lewis. They formed a kind of experimental workshop with another composer, arranger, and pianist named Gil Evans. The purpose of the workshop was to come up with a new kind of jazz that could serve as an alternative to swing and bebop. The end result was a group of nine musicians who played with a subtle and sophisticated feel, using innovative sound colours and playing relaxed and expansive solos. The group didn’t perform too often and never achieved any significant popularity, but a number of recordings made by the group were later collected under the title Birth of the Cool. This is, chronologically, the first essential jazz recording released under Davis’ name.
The Afterbirth of the Cool
Miles Davis’ career as a musician followed an unusual pattern: Time and again, he would help to create a new style of music, then leave it behind in search of something new. After the dissolution of his experimental nonet, Miles spent a lot of time playing with the great young musicians of the day and searching for his distinctive voice. The CD released as Bags Groove provides a nice summary of this stage of Davis’ development.
The Miles Davis Quintet v.1
In October 1956, at a single marathon session, the songs that make up Relaxin’ Cookin’ Steamin’ and Workin’ were all recorded. Hilariously, when these tracks were first released, some writers criticized Davis for hiring a group of young and unknown musicians. The second horn in the group was tenor sax man John Coltrane, who is now universally considered one of the greatest musicians of all time. Pianist Red Garland, bassist Paul Chambers, and Drummer Philly Joe Jones went on to earn a reputation as THE jazz rhythm section. The legend is that all of the tracks on all four records were done in a single take, and there is certainly a feeling of absolute spontaneity that very few recordings since have managed to capture. Much as Davis’ minimalist style had provided a contrast that set off Charlie Parker’s incandescent bebop, John Coltrane brought a sound that was both charging and dense which was the ideal contrast to Davis’ style.
The Greatest Jazz Record Ever
As the fifties were drawing to a close the bluesy and soulful alto sax player Cannonball Adderly, the magical piano genius Bill Evans, and a compelling timekeeper in drummer Jimmy Cobb were added to the Davis group. The Miles Davis Sextet went on to release Milestones and Kind of Blue, which are two of the great treasures of recorded music. Kind of Blue is arguably the greatest jazz album ever made, and it will get its own column soon. The two LPs changed jazz forever by introducing compositions that allowed the musicians to construct their solos around a series of scales rather than around a progression of chords. Without getting too deeply into musical theory, this basically allowed for more creative freedom and encouraged melodic soloing. By the way, if anyone has ever tried to teach you that the theory behind Modal Jazz is that every chord has its corresponding scale and it is necessary to know those scales in order to play jazz, then you have been misled. The Miles Davis Sextet was recorded live at the Newport Jazz Festival in 1958, and that is the music that I’m listening to as I write this article. Every scrap of music recorded by this group is, in my opinion, essential.
Miles Ahead
Between 1957 and 1960, Miles recorded three albums where he was accompanied by a full orchestra playing arrangements by his old friend Gil Evans. All three albums are beautiful, but none of them are perfect. I really like Sketches of Spain, with the haunting Saeta being my favourite tune, but most critics prefer Miles Ahead. There is also a 2-disc set available of a live concert with orchestra recorded at Carnegie Hall.
The Miles Davis Quintet v.2
After Coltrane left the Davis group to create his own legend, Miles experimented with various replacements. In 1963 and 1964 he gradually put together his next great combo. Teenage drummer Tony Williams, Eastman School of Music graduate Ron Carter on bass, and the soon-to-be rich and famous Herbie Hancock on piano formed a new kind of rhythm section. They were able to keep time, and swing, while simultaneously improvising in a virtuoso style. Once Wayne Shorter finished his stint with Art Blakey’s Jazz Messengers and brought his tenor and soprano saxophones into the fold, the group was complete. Their music is far more complex and difficult to listen to than anything Davis had done before, and it is not good music for casual listening. The band can be heard at a creative peak during the live recordings they made in 1965 at The Plugged Nickel. Their best studio record is arguably 1965’s Miles Smiles, and Circle, from that recording, is probably their most accessible number.
Fusion
Around 1968, Davis began to add electronic instruments to his ensemble, and to experiment with longer and more loosely structured pieces. Bitches Brew is almost universally hailed as the most important recording from this stage of Miles’ career, but I far prefer the more meditative In A Silent Way and the heavy funk of A Tribute to Jack Johnson. John McLaughlin’s guitar work on the latter disc must be heard to be believed.
Exodus
Miles Davis reportedly spent the 1970s in a self-indulgent cocaine haze. He recorded a few albums in the early part of the decade. Some people enjoy them.
Miles re-emerged from the haze in the early 1980s and released a series of slickly produced recordings that saw him gradually regain his technical prowess while playing with a new generation of young lions. Star People, featuring John Scofield on guitar, is maybe his most enjoyable studio record from this period. There are some intersting live recordings available that document the final stages of Davis’ journey.
Miles Davis died in 1991.
