that uppermost vid is awesome.. turn poison into medicine.
it's wat my Dad has been trying to teach me for so long, If you find yourself in an uncomfortable situation, the next thing out of your mouth must intend to solely improve the situation.
the next notes out of Miles' Trumpet
Last edited by Schlitz mmmm; 10-19-2018 at 04:13 AM.
I vividly remember the first time I heard the Miles Davis album “The Complete Concert 1964: My Funny Valentine and Four & More.” The experience was exhilarating, confusing, and, dare I say it, life-changing.
This month marks the 50th anniversary of that concert at Lincoln Center’s Philharmonic Hall, and the performance that made for one of the greatest live albums of all time.
The event was a fundraiser for the registration of black voters in Louisiana and Mississippi. This was the height of the civil rights movement, and Davis was a vocal proponent and supporter of the cause. As such, he agreed to waive his usual (and by then considerable) fee for the performance.
Unfortunately, he didn’t tell his band this until they arrived at the show, which resulted in a fierce backstage argument between Davis and his bandmates, Herbie Hancock, Ron Carter, Tony Williams and George Coleman.
The tickets were very expensive, fetching up to $50 each, and the band was upset that he had made this decision without telling them and letting them decide if they wanted to donate their fees to the cause.
But Davis told them flat-out that if they wanted to be in his band, they had to play the show on his terms. And you don’t say no to Miles Davis! In his autobiography, Davis, looking back on the show, credits the tension between the band for the fire and intensity in the music that night.
with this back story, and if you know the album version of the songs, you can almost equate this to make-up sex.
the complete 2+ hour version
also interesting because it features the more than capable George Coleman on tenor sax. Coleman played with Ray Charles and BB King in the early 50s before transitioning to playing jazz with the likes of Max Roach, Jimmy Smith, and Kenny Burrell before joining Miles. Coleman was replaced soon after this recording with Wayne Shorter on tenor and the second Great Quintet was complete.
i should also add i was incorrect in my notes on the second video (Agitation) from a few posts ago. the video was from 1967 (not 1963).
i'm pretty sure i could hum three bars and the powerhouse of Miles and Trane would turn it into a Jazz standard....good lord that duo was good.
something i found particularly interesting about this version: after the intro Miles has the first verse solo from ~1:52 until ~2:37. Classic Miles from this period...very emphatic notes and even more powerful space between those notes.
Trane starts the second verse around ~2:37 and blows his head off...who the hell can follow that?
when Trane finishes the second verse around 4:20 Wynton Kelly has the dubious job of following Trane and starts the third verse with his piano solo and it sounds extremely weak and timid compared to the Miles & Trane verses he has to follow (hmmm...i wonder why Herbie was recruited to join the band?)....Miles recognizes this, even after spending the past 5 minutes smoking a joint off stage, and immediately starts playing little bursts of the theme on trumpet to help round out Kelly's solo and bring things back to where they need to be.
and i think this brings us back to what Schlitz said above
Quote:
Originally Posted by Schlitz mmmm
that uppermost vid is awesome.. turn poison into medicine.
it's wat my Dad has been trying to teach me for so long, If you find yourself in an uncomfortable situation, the next thing out of your mouth must intend to solely improve the situation.
the next notes out of Miles' Trumpet
Miles was all about advancing the music, not punishing what was played.
Miles was all about advancing the music, not punishing what was played.
There's something else about him that I've always found hard to explain. It's a type of open mindedness, or perhaps a species of practicality. It allows him to hear something, anything at all, and think: Hey, I can use that!
I picture Thomas Alva Edison the same way: I see him picking up a scrap of wire and saying, "Hmmmm, I'll take this and invent the light bulb .. or maybe the phonograph..."
There's something else about him that I've always found hard to explain. It's a type of open mindedness, or perhaps a species of practicality. It allows him to hear something, anything at all, and think: Hey, I can use that!
I picture Thomas Alva Edison the same way: I see him picking up a scrap of wire and saying, "Hmmmm, I'll take this and invent the light bulb .. or maybe the phonograph..."
totally agree. it's like he was so good (and possibly bored because he was so good) at playing within the rules that he pounced on any nugget of inspiration that originated outside of the norm....often times coming from a musically 'wrong' place.
i have a hunch he enjoyed the challenge of salvaging what initially appears to be a musical wreck into something so much more.