Thought by many to be among the most revolutionary albums in jazz history, Miles Davis' Bitches Brew solidified the genre known as jazz-rock fusion. The original double LP included only six cuts and featured up to 12 musicians at any given time, some of whom were already established while others would become high-profile players later, Joe Zawinul, Wayne Shorter, Airto, John McLaughlin, Chick Corea, Jack DeJohnette, Dave Holland, Don Alias, Bennie Maupin, Larry Young, and Lenny White among them. Originally thought to be a series of long jams locked into grooves around keyboard, bass, or guitar vamps, Bitches Brew is actually a recording that producer Teo Macero assembled from various jams and takes by razor blade, splice to splice, section to section.
Its greatest triumph is that it masks this adventurousness within music that is warm and accessible – it just never acts that way. No matter how accessible this is, what's so utterly brilliant about it is that the group never brings it forth to the audience. They're playing for each other, pushing and prodding each other in an effort to discover new territory. As such, this crackles with vitality, sounding fresh decades after its release. And, like its predecessor, ESP, this freshness informs the writing as well, as the originals are memorable, yet open-ended and nervy, setting (and creating) standards for modern bop that were emulated well into the new century. Arguably, this quintet was never better than they are here, when all their strengths are in full bloom.
Four sides of long improvised grooves from Miles Davis – a set that's quite similar to the classic studio album Bitches Brew, but which captures the sound in more open live setting! The work is more inside than some of the Davis Japanese sessions of the time, but no less revolutionary – really opening up in some wonderful ways – with lots of spacious modal riffing over some heavy vamps. Groovy and quite free at the same time, but not nearly as out as the later electric recordings!
A beautiful live representation of the energy of the Bitches Brew years – one that has Miles Davis and the group really letting loose with free-flowing, modally-inspired lines – cooking up an incredible blend of acoustic and electric sounds at once! There's a bit of funk here, but not much – and although guitar is sometimes used strongly, it's often not as noisy as in later live sides. Instead, the whole group gels together beautifully – an unlikely assortment of players that includes Gary Bartz and Steve Grossman on reeds, John McLaughlin on guitar, Herbie Hancock on keyboards, Hermeto Pascoal on percussion, Dave Holland on bass, and Jack DeJohnette on drums – all given new focus, direction, and inspiration by Miles!
Breakneck live work from Miles Davis – and proof that his famous 60s quintet wasn't only just about mellow and spacious sounds! The set was recorded at the same concert as the album My Funny Valentine – and while that one's mostly ballads, this one's mostly high tempo numbers that skip along with incredible ease – crackling with modern touches on the rhythm from Herbie Hancock, Ron Carter, and Tony Williams – and featuring some really excellent work by George Coleman on tenor sax!
One of the finest live albums in the history of jazz, My Funny Valentine presents the Miles Davis Quintet live at the Lincoln Centre's Philharmonic Hall in 1964. Surrounded by the vibrant and youthful rhythm section of Herbie Hancock (piano), Ron Carter (bass) and Tony Williams (drums), Davis was enjoying a strong new surge of creativity, and played with a stunning level of invention and passion throughout. The resonance of the long title track - one of those flawless performances that happens only very occasionally - dominates the record. Front-line partner George Coleman (tenor saxophone) chose a good evening to play some of the most beautiful solos of his life.
Sorcerer, the third album by the second Miles Davis Quintet, is in a sense a transitional album, a quiet, subdued affair that rarely blows hot, choosing to explore cerebral tonal colorings. Even when the tempo picks up, as it does on the title track, there's little of the dense, manic energy on Miles Smiles – this is about subtle shadings, even when the compositions are as memorable as Tony Williams' "Pee Wee" or Herbie Hancock's "Sorcerer." As such, it's a little elusive, since it represents the deepening of the band's music as they choose to explore different territory.
A masterful tribute from one bad cat to another – and easily one of Miles Davis' greatest electric albums ever! The album's got a powerful, epic sort of feel – a renewed focus after the looser style of Bitches Brew, and the 70s live albums – and one that mixes a deeper funky sound with the raw, exploratory style Davis had let loose a few years before. Michael Henderson's bass is a big part of the power of the record, and John McLaughlin's guitar has never sounded better, or sharper. Teo Macero made the whole thing magic in the studio, and titles include two sidelong funkdafied jams – "Right Off" and "Yesternow".
Listening to Miles Davis' originally released version of In a Silent Way in light of the complete sessions released by Sony in 2001 (Columbia Legacy 65362) reveals just how strategic and dramatic a studio construction it was. If one listens to Joe Zawinul's original version of "In a Silent Way," it comes across as almost a folk song with a very pronounced melody. The version Miles Davis and Teo Macero assembled from the recording session in July of 1968 is anything but. There is no melody, not even a melodic frame. There are only vamps and solos, grooves layered on top of other grooves spiraling toward space but ending in silence.
1960s singer-songwriter Kevin Ayers sings ‘Funny how the situation changes’, at the start of The Unfairground, his first album for fifteen years. How true that appears to be, given the biographical facts surrounding this formerly psychedelic, and almost mythic, ex-Soft Machine operator. Running to seed, as the story goes, in the south of France, he gets re-discovered, hauled back to the UK and a batch of new songs – recorded on the hoof in a range of locations – is conjured around Ayers’ wry, addictive, but ever so slightly broken, vocals.