This was the first of the boxes I got, when it came out, and it gave me confidence to buy the rest as I could afford them. The Plugged Nickel set is the only one I don’t own physically. It is a beautifully put together package, but despite the repetition included, nothing seems redundant! The album as released is excellent; groundbreaking in more ways than one, and after KOB and BB is my most listened to Miles album. I can’t add much more.
In A Silent Way was the first Miles I ever heard. It was brand new and right across the street from me at the local library. Not too much later Bitches Brew came out and that was my first Miles purchase. Picked it up at J. C. Penney's. Bought the box when it came out and just listened a few weeks ago. Love it all!
I’d heard about Miles Davis a million times but had never heard the music. Then on a whim I bought In A Silent Way and Bitches Brew when they were re-released several years ago. I pretty much played nothing but those two albums for that entire spring and summer.
Just in agreement with the last couple of posts, yeah... Once you get the Miles Davis bug it's a slippery slope into owning, and loving, pretty much everything he did. It's the most exquisite art....
I think Shout and The Man With The Horn are good, if not great. Excellent point; that was his nephew Vince Wilburn's band, with Bobby Irving on keyboards. Bobby was in Miles' band from Decoy in 1983 until the late 80s. Vince played drums a few years in the mid 80s. The two tracks represent the first strains of the more commercial direction Miles would take from the mid 80s.
I agree. Neither track is bad per se, just a different direction for Miles. “Shout” could be the backing track for a Prince tune. “The Man with the Horn” wouldn’t be out of place on an r&b record. Miles plays very evocatively on that track. This was my first listen to this album, and I haven’t heard much of the post-retirement music, so this thread now becomes an education for me. I was pleasantly surprised with most of this album, which I agree with others is predominantly groove oriented and not terribly far from the ‘74 material, if a bit more stripped down. “Back Seat Betty” is a standout.
The long version is terrific even if Al Foster and Marcus Miller may be playing a different 'one' throughout the whole (unreleased) fast section at the start. Could have been a whole side.
I get into this loop with “Ife”, whenever I listen to it, it makes me want to listen to Isotope 217, and then when I listen to Isotope 217, it makes me want to listen to “Ife” again. I could think of infinite many worse ways to spend my time.
I really enjoyed A Silent Way and Bitches Brew. Can someone please tell me where to go next. Yeah, I know the obvious answer is to go forwards but this might not necessarily be the case with Miles and his rapid evolution during this era. I might enjoy his '67 and '68 material more than Jack Johnson for instance but I'm not really sure. I collect vinyl and cd's and don't download or sample.
I suggest "Filles de Kilimanjaro" and "Water Babies." These each have very interesting material that I think someone who enjoyed "In A Silent Way" and "Bitches Brew" would enjoy and find. . . Miles educational.
I like Lonson's idea. For me it was Kind Of Blue, Sketches of Spain, Jack Johnson and On The Corner after those two. Then it was the 2nd great quintet albums after that. Original US LPs or the MFSL LPs or SACDs are going to sound the best. But really, no matter which album you pick next, you can't go wrong!
I reckon pretty much every album Miles Davis put out between the mid-50s & Bitches Brew is golden, take your pick really. I love the 70s stuff too but it's not for everyone. Personally I would go with Kind of Blue & ESP next.
Back to The Man with the Horn I believe it's the first time that I hear this album in full, instead of just sampling a bunch of tracks. I must say, one the one hand I enjoyed it more than I would have expected; on the other hand, I did kind of expect to enjoy it. This has to do with the fact that my tastes have become more inclusive and tolerant in the past few years and also because I have learned to appreciate ‘80s sound in general. I really love Bill Evans’ contributions. His stuff is always interesting and exciting. Miles’ solos kind of leave me cold, but maybe it's also a matter of listening in more. I like "Fat Time", "Back Seat Betty", even "Shout" is lots of fun. "Aida" to me is the track that is the closest link to the mid-'70s, pre-retirement, sound. It sounds like parts of it could have been on Agharta/Pangaea. This is the kind of stuff that makes the whole album-by-album game interesting to me, trying to find the missing links. This is one of those links. "The Man with the Horn"—the R&B track, why not? This isn't as bad as some people say it is, and it even fits well in with the rest of the album. BUT there is a big BUT. I think Teo Macero entirely failed on this track. His production is absolutely, abhorringly amateurish. Tracks with this kind of sound have existed since the early ‘70s, yet Teo manages to suck the life and warmth out of it with his lacklustre mix. I really would want to hear how this would have sounded if done by a producer (or team of producers à la Mizell Brothers) that knows this genre inside and out. And then "Ursula" is kind of a straight ahead jazz jam (complete with walking bass), adapted to the new sound. Looking forward to the rest of the decade. Most of these albums will be new to me.
Marcus Miller really stands out on this album. Listen to his bass playing on tracks like "Aida," "Ursula" and "Fat Time." On the LP version, his bass opens both sides. And the guy was only 21/22! Great post crispi, although I think you're a bit hard on Teo Macero! He was left to sift through what were essentially jams and somehow make coherent tracks out of them.
Sorry for being Johnny-come-lately, but I just discovered this amazing thread. As a huge Miles fan, I'd like to quickly go back to Dark Magus (if such excursions are allowed here; if not, please delete this post): To me, Dark Magus is a special milestone in Miles's career. To my ears, there was nothing like that before nor after. I regard Dark Magus as one of the most mystical, mysterious pieces of music ever recorded. I love every minute of it. I even love the disappointing fadeouts on some tracks (just when things start getting super heated). It all makes sense to me, as in the overall grandiose picture that this album portrays. Today, I wanted to quickly bring up one thing that amazes me the most -- drum machine! As far as I know, Mtume was manning the drum machine on Dark Magus. There is something deeply mystical, profoundly ancient and at the same time futuristic in the way drum machine meshes with the band. Yes, it may be accused of sounding clumsy, or jerky, but it just puts me into some special kind of trance. I'm surprised that no one picked up on this and ran with it (at least I've never heard any other artists use the drum machine the way Miles used it on Dark Magus). I think it's pure magic.
Sorry if this has already been shared in this thread, I don't remember seeing it. I was searching around for some info on the quad reel Bitches Brew. Has that been discussed here? Anyway this video is a hoot! Teo Macero!!
We Want Miles a compilation of live performances recorded at: Kix night club in Boston, MA, June 27, 1981 Newport Jazz Festival at Avery Fisher Hall, NYC, July 5, 1981 Tokyo, Japan, October 4, 1981 (more on the Japan shows coming up next...) original issue: Columbia double-LP C2 38005 in April 1982; subsequently released on CD in Japan and Europe but never officially in the US (to my knowledge) Produced (a.k.a. heavily edited) by Teo Macero Hype sticker: “the NEW MILES DAVIS ALBUM” Lead single: "Jean Pierre" (album length 4:00 (track B2, different performance from A1) | 12” single length 4:00) From Miles' autobiography: "By the spring of 1981, I felt ready to play again out in public. I felt that I was ready and my band was, too. So I called my manager, Mark Rothbaum, and told him to call Freddie Taylor, a promoter up in Boston, who then booked us into a small club in the Cambridge area called Kix. I had also agreed to play George Wein's Newport Jazz Festival on the first weekend of July, so the Kix gig, which was booked for four days at the end of June, would be a good warm-up for that. "I had bought a brand-new, canary-yellow 308 GTSI Ferrari sports coupe, with a targa top. [Road manager] Jim Rose and I drove up to Boston and Chris [Murphy] drove the truck with the equipment. When Jim and I left the house, we got a little coke and after we crossed the George Washington Bridge I drove all the way up like a bat out of hell. I know this scared Jim a little because I was really hitting the speed. But I found that I was finally starting to lose my interest in coke because after we got to Boston I gave it away to someone and then turned some down. So that's how I knew I was winning my battle with it. "The rest of the band had flown up to the gig, but I wanted everyone to see me arriving to work in my new Ferrari. I wanted them to know that I was really back, even if I was only staying right across the street from the club and could have just walked across the street every night. A little show biz don't (sic) hurt sometimes. "The first night we played, there were lines, but a lot of people were just waiting to see if I was really going to show up and play. After I did, the place was jam-packed; there were people everywhere. Man, people were crying when they saw me and crying when I played. It was something. One night, there was this little crippled black guy who had cerebral palsy sitting down front in a wheelchair. He looked about thirty-five years old, but I really don't know how old he was. I was playing this blues, and he was sitting right in front of the stage. I played it to him because I knew that he knew what the blues were. Halfway through my solo, I looked into this guy's eyes, and he was crying. He reached up his withered arm, which was trembling, and with his shaking hand he touched my trumpet as though he was blessing it - and me. Man, I almost lost it right then and there, almost broke down myself and cried. I wanted to meet the guy, but when I went outside they had taken him away. Now, I don't ever get sad about not meeting somebody I don't know, and especially a man, but I wanted to tell him how much his gesture had meant to me. What he had done when he reached up his hand like that can only come from a heart that understands. I wanted to thank him for what he had done because it meant a lot to me, coming back to play after all I had gone through. It was almost like he was telling me everything was all right and that my playing was as beautiful and strong as ever. I needed that, needed it right at that moment to go on. "I think we got $15,000 a night for those four days in Boston, which was some nice money for a club that seated around 425 people. We did two shows a night and the club made money, too. Then we played the Newport Jazz Festival at Avery Fisher Hall in New York City. A lot of critics hated what we did there and said I didn't play long enough. On the other hand, a lot of people dug it, so it was even Stephen. Both [the Newport Jazz Festival] shows were sold out, and so that made everyone feel good. In September I went to Japan and they paid me for eight shows, plus transportation and food and hotels. That was a great trip we made over there. Everybody played well and the Japanese people loved what we did." Miles and Cicely Tyson arriving in Japan, September 29, 1981 From Miles’ own website: "After the procrastinations of The Man With The Horn, We Want Miles went smoothly. Miles was definitely back and ready to go on the road to perform for his fans who had been awaiting him for six years. From June 26 to 29, 1981, he got himself into shape at Kix, a Boston club. At first the musicians—the group from “Fat Time,” including Mino Cinelu who took over on percussion—were a bit disturbed by the extremely informal rehearsals. But very quickly each one found his bearings in these jam session-like numbers, which passed from swing to funk, and even reggae, and in which an unhoped-for standard, George Gershwin’s “My Man’s Gone Now,” was slipped in. More convivial than usual, Miles smiled at his audience and, with the use of a wireless microphone, moved around the stage while performing his music. During the tour that followed (notably in Japan), he delighted his audience with his playful shimmying in “Jean Pierre.” Since 1958, this piece had often appeared fleetingly in his solos (see Saturday Night – At The Blackhawk, and My Funny Valentine) and in Boston was hinted at briefly in “Kix.” It would be the great hit of his comeback." Miles leaving the airport, Japan, September 29, 1981 (almost looks like Chick Corea on camera ) From The Last Miles by George Cole: "[Jim] Rose and [Chris] Murphy set about buying new horns for Miles, recruiting new sound and lighting specialists and developing a wireless amplification system for Miles to use on-stage. This latter development would transform the way Miles played live. Now he was no longer constrained by having to stand in front of a microphone, but could wander around the stage (and even off-stage) without losing contact with the PA system. "But while the preparations for the technical aspects of the shows were painstakingly thorough, the band rehearsals were a much looser affair. The rehearsals took place at Miles' home on West 77th Street and Miles' attitude and approach to the concert preparations were both surprising - and somewhat disconcerting - for his young band members. "It was very informal. We didn't know what the hell was going on and I don't think Miles did and that was part of the thing I really dug about him. When he was starting a new band he was searching and he had a vague idea of where he wanted to go," says [Mike] Stern. "The rehearsals, which were more like jam sessions, were used more for exploration and experimentation than for the crafting of a concert set. "A lot of the time he would just sit for a while and let us play stuff and try a couple of different things. It didn't have it completely together when we started playing. Some of us were like "What the f***! He's got a couple of power chords here and then what?" He wanted that looseness and he had a kind of idea about the attitude he wanted the music to sound like and a few structural things. It certainly wasn't all written out. There were no notes on paper so he kept it really open," adds Stern. "According to Murphy, Kix was a "medium-sized and rather dingy" club. Although this was the band's first outing, the musicians greatly enjoyed playing at the venue. "Kix was perfect and the audience was just ready to enjoy it and they did! It was the kind of band where we got off on the energy of it," says Stern. "[Columbia Records executive] George Butler recalls traveling to Boston for the first night. "When I approached the area near the club, there were lines of people around the block and I thought they were waiting to get into a movie (there was a movie theatre close by), but then I realized - they were hoping to see Miles. Wayne Shorter, Ron Carter and Herbie Hancock were playing close by at the Berklee School of Music (sic) and as soon as they heard Miles was playing at Kix they finished their show real fast and got over to the club. When Miles heard they were in the audience, he called them up on the stage and everybody went wild!" Miles prepares to go onstage in Japan, October 2, 1981 "Although Miles was clearly still in the process of regaining his lip, his capacity to move listeners with his trumpet sound remained as strong as ever. We Want Miles also highlights his talent to bring musicians from a diverse range of backgrounds and knit them together into a formidable working group. The first band that Miles had was composed of virtuosos, and all of them are given a chance to shine on this record. The lack of preparation brings an excitement and an intensity to the music that is often absent from bands that have extensively rehearsed before the performance. It is the not quite knowing what will happen next that keeps everybody (including the audience) on their toes and everyone responds well to the task. "Within each breath, each note, it was magical," says Cinelu, recalling the band's performances and that is certainly reflected on this record. "We Want Miles received a much better critical reaction than The Man With The Horn, with some critics considering it his "real" comeback album. The album also went on to win a Grammy for Best Jazz Instumental Performance, Soloist. It is a truism that in the final decade much of the magic of Miles' music happened live on-stage, in real time, and We Want Miles is an excellent chronicle of this phenomenon."
We Want Miles is a great record, one of those live albums that's actually better than the concerts it was culled from. A lot down to Teo Macero's editing imo. Teo kept all Miles' solos in and left out a lot of the sidemen's solos. It was a great band, but they were to some extent covering for Miles, who was still in fragile condition. Back Seat Beatty is like a miniature of what was a 20 minute performance. Miles plays really well on the Kix and Avery Fisher Hall tunes. He's in weak chops on the material recorded in Japan (the two Jean Pierre), where his health took a dip. But Jean Pierre (long version) is fantastic anyway due to Bill and Mike and Marcus (classic bass intro!!).
Ok, so I've seen images of a 'quad' Bitches Brew on vinyl. And I've seen faint images of reel to reel tapes that say something about '4 track'?? Was there a quad reel to reel? I never had quad anything and never paid much attention to it and probably forgot whatever I knew.
LP only, and no quad-RTR AFAIK. Were quad-8's even out in '70? I think by the time quad-8's were a thing, Bitches Brew was history.
I moved to Boston not long before the Kix show and lived just a few blocks away (despite what one of the commentors above says, Kix was not in Cambridge, but just out of Kenmore Square just off of Commonwealth Ave in the Boston University area. There was, indeed, a movie theater just around the corner.) When the show was announced I tried very hard to get a ticket but was unable. On the concert night I walked over there hoping to score a ticket, but no dice. The street was mobbed. I hung out anyway, listening to the throbbing bass coming through the walls. Sounded like it was very loud in there! I used to like this album, though it seemed to me at the time to be rather conventional "fusion" music. I still have my old LP - I'll give it a spin soon.
