A Weekly Round-Up Of Miles Davis News & Notes
1. Relix Explores the ‘On The Corner’ Sessions
From 1972 to 1975, Miles Davis made his most complex, most aggressive, most unforgiving and occasionally most beautiful music, and it’s often been given short shrift in the past by jazz critics who’d never been able to adjust to the screaming electric-ness of it all. [relix.com]
2. Peter Tibbles Features Miles Davis In Elder Music Column
My first serious encounter with Miles (as it were) was when I bought the album, “Some Day My Priince Will Come.” This was the also the first time I’d heard a muted trumpet for a sustained period. Before that, it was generally just for a short time, for an effect. I still preferred the trumpet without it but it was interesting nonetheless. [time goes by]
3. And Then Miles Davis And John Lennon Started Playing Basketball….
4. Wayne Shorter, Miles Davis meet Ebene: When string quartets rock
Jazz saxophonist and composer Wayne Shorter was in the audience for the Los Angeles Philharmonic’s opening night gala at Walt Disney Concert Hall Tuesday night. No surprise there. Herbie Hancock was soloist in Gershwin’s “Rhapsody in Blue.” Shorter and Hancock were in Miles Davis’ “second quintet,” one of the greatest chamber ensembles of all time, ample evidence of which can be found on a new CD/DVD set of live performances from the quintet’s 1967 European tour. [la times]
5. Where did the Jazz Man go?
Christian Gerrard started riding Rob Thompson’s bus on a rainy fall afternoon two years ago. The University of Minnesota junior was “blown away” when he first stepped onto the bus — he heard Miles Davis blaring over the chatter of other passengers. [mndaily.com]
6. Steve Jobs: This American life
So if innovation means being the very first, count Jobs out. There’s actually a parallel argument in jazz music, if you can believe it, where people have spent 30 years debating whether Miles Davis innovated anything. The obvious answer is that, if innovating means being very first, he didn’t. Charlie Parker and Dizzy Gillespie showed him how to play bebop.
Lester Young was stripping ornament from his solo lines when Miles was in short pants. And so on. But Miles heard new currents, found ways to make them consistent with his own aesthetic, and presented them in ways a general audience could grasp and then love. And then he did it again and again. If an innovator is a conduit between an idea and all its possible audiences, then both of these guys were at the heart of that game. [macleans.ca]