The music of Miles Davis’ electric period, which began in roughly 1969 and continued on to his death in 1991, used to be criticized as crude and unfocused in comparison with his earlier masterworks like Sketches of Spain, Kind of Blue, and the albums of his two great quintets. Bitches Brew and In a Silent Way, with their moody, chaotic, sprawling tracks and huge bands of multiple pianists, guitar players, and saxophonists were criticized as indulgent, dull, and uninspired.
This older assessment, by critics like Stanley Crouch and Jack Chambers, has become a minority viewpoint, to say the least. Among many other musicians, trumpeters like Dave Douglas, Roy Hargrove, and Nicholas Payton clearly show the influence of "electric Miles" in their sound. Critics have published books that treat this music as seriously as any other part of Davis’ career. And record companies, desperate to sell anything in their vaults, particularly to a jazz audience actually inclined to pay for meticulously-created re-issues, has released lavish, expanded box sets versions of early 70s LPS like Bitches Brew, In a Silent Way, On the Corner, and A Tribute to Jack Johnson.
The one I’d humbly like to bring to your attention is a 5-disc live album called The Cellar Door Sessions, recorded in 1970. What’s wonderful about this music is its embrace of the funk. Whereas Bitches Brew tends to emphasize texture and a kind of haunted, ambient quality, The Cellar Door Sessions is held together by a 20-year-old Motown bass prodigy named Michael Henderson. Since each of these tracks is sprawling and free-form, Henderson’s endlessly energetic grooves keep the whole affair moving and full of surprises And the individual soloists are ferocious! Who knew Keith Jarrett could rock an electric piano so hard? Saxophonist Gary Bartz repeatedly builds himself into an explosive lather. And on the last disc, fusion guitar god John McLaughlin joins the group to add yet another voice.
Unlike some of the other reviewers of this set, I find Davis’ trumpet a bit overshadowed by his young-turk superstars. But as perhaps the greatest talent scout in jazz history, only he could have the wherewithal and audacity to put together a band playing this splendid combination of rock, jazz, and unvarnished funkiness. Long live the electric Miles revival!
P.S. If you’d like to listen for yourself without investing the $65-100 for the set, check out this Kevin Whitehead review on NPR. I’m not crazy about the selections Whitehead chose to play, as they don’t highlight the great soloing as much I’d like, but it does give you a flavor.
Accidental Blogger 
5 responses to “Great Music You May Have Missed (Andrew)”
This set has been on my want list since it appeared in Cadence magazine’s readers poll last year. Making rent keeps deferring the delight. For a current example not so much of influence, but of downright shameless emulation redeemed by delivery of the goods, check out Yo Miles, featuring Henry Kaiser, Wadada Leo Smith, and a host of terrific peers.
But, hey, is the Cellar Door set five or six disks?
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I will definitely check out Yo Miles — thanks for the tip!
And for the correction — Cellar Door is indeed 6.
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By now it is anyone’s guess who might have motivated Davis to the possibilities of funk/rock/electric/electronic/new music; the Zwed biography credits his young wife Betty Mabry who introduced him to Sly Stone and Jimi Hendrix. I acknowledge that Davis gave the “young turks” exposure and opportunities, but those guys had musical trajectories of their own by the time of “Bitches Brew”, and were developing a following by being more accessible to young audiences in the late 60s – Davis was never accessible in that way. “Everyone wanted to play with Miles – I certainly did – but at the same time, they were reacting against the old man a bit, and wanting to become involved in some of the new music the AACM (Association for the Advancement of Creative Musicians, the avant-garde in Chicago) and I were playing”, Anthony Braxton, quoted in “So What – The Life of Miles Davis” by John Zwed. I cannot make a cogent argument for why I was never bowled over by Miles. When I want to reminisce about the new Great Black Music of the 70s I invariably reach for others. Miles has become too much of an icon. As great as his music is, the new hoopla is all Sony Inc.
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Miles has become too much of an icon.
I can sympathize with this, with respect not only to Miles, but to many celebrity artists. Even Braxton, in his own way, is something of an icon shadowing his own reputation, just a bit. Yet I adore most of Braxton’s stuff–i.e., most of what I’ve heard–and I enjoy discovering the large supply of Miles with which I’m unfamiliar. I have to say, though, that the iconic luster of Kind of Blue is much more stale than that of Miles himself. I’ll take Cannonball Adderley’s (really, Miles’) Somethin’ Else any day over KOB. It’s…cooler…has more swing…
Still, I’m saving my lunch money for the Sony box Andrew featured. Despite the ebbing and flowing, redundant program, I’m also gunning for the complete Jack Johnson sessions.
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Glad to hear it Dean — the Jack Johnson set is definitely worth it too.
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