Record Reviews

📝 2096 reviews
Artist Title Review
Dave Matthews Band Live At Radio City <P>In some ways, two and a half hours of acoustic Dave Matthews with Tim Reynolds seems like it would be a snore — especially since a boatload of these 27 songs range between five and nine minutes! The Dave Matthews Band can get away with such excesses as a group, but in this intimate setting on such a large stage? It's either truly wonderful or something of an exercise in intense ego run riot, right? To be fair, this is not a snore. Reynolds is a hell of a guitarist. He is not one given to random excess and never pretends to be a guitar hero — though he is. The program is simply that this pair brings out Matthews' tunes from both the DMB and his solo recording and plays them for an audience full of adoration and gratitude. And, for the most part, it works. The opening blues moans that introduce "Bartender" let the listener know that this is no ordinary acoustic show. Renditions of "Crush," "Gravedigger," "Some Devil," and "Crash into Me" are gorgeously done here. There is a conviction in Matthews' voice that is missing on a lot of the band's live records. Likewise, "Grace Is Gone" and the cover versions like Neil Young's "Down by the River," Daniel Lanois' "The Maker," and Woody Guthrie's "This Land Is Your Land" are also wonderfully done. There is also a new song called "Sister" that Matthews overly explains, but the song's terrific.</P><P>There are a few dull moments, but over the entire course of this set they are actually few and far between — unless Matthews' voice gets to you after a while, and then perhaps you're in trouble. When Matthews is lazy (and he often is), the results can be samey sounding — but he's not here. He understands implicitly that his singing is more important than it is with the DMB, and it needs to carry the weight. Reynolds adds so much in terms of color and texture — whether he's playing straight, using effects, playing slide, or inventing some new scale to play a solo in, he transforms what might be merely intimate and engaging into something (mostly) compelling. Even the nine-plus-minute "Dancing Nancies" works like a charm because Reynolds is able to create an alternate voice with his lead guitar playing. His solo on Young's "Down by the River" actually mimics (on acoustic guitar) the songwriter's, by going into a somewhat extended single-note hammer until it becomes trancelike — he could just as easily have shown off. For Matthews fans, this is essential. For those on the fence about Matthews, this is document enough to win you over to his talent as a songwriter — without spending the fruitless time that DMB recordings take up. For those who liked Some Devil, his solo effort, this document will provide further enjoyment. It's as solid as an extended presentation can be and is, for the most part, thoroughly enjoyable. The great contribution it does provide is to demonstrate what a guitar-picking wonder Reynolds is, even more so than on earlier collaborations between these two. Somebody should sign this guy up, and quick.</P><P>— <B>Thom Jurek</B></P>
Dave Matthews Band Live At Piedmont Park
Dave Matthews Band Big Whiskey & The Groo Grux King
Miles Davis Steamin' With The Miles Davis Quintet <p>Though chronologically the last to be issued, this collection includes some of the best performances from the tapes which would produce the albums Cookin', Relaxin', Workin', and ultimately, Steamin'. A primary consideration of these fruitful sessions is the caliber of musicians -- Miles Davis (trumpet), Red Garland (piano), John Coltrane (tenor sax), and Philly Joe Jones (drums) -- who were basically doing their stage act in the studio. As actively performing musicians, the material they are most intimate with would be their live repertoire. Likewise, what more obvious place than a studio is there to capture every inescapable audible nuance of the combo's musical group mind. The end results are consistently astonishing. At the center of Steamin', as with most outings by this band, are the group improvisations which consist of solo upon solo of arguably the sweetest and otherwise most swinging interactions known to have existed between musicians. "Surrey With the Fringe on Top" is passed between the mates like an old joke. Garland compliments threads started by Davis and Coltrane as their seamless interaction yields a stream of strikingly lyrical passages. There are two well-placed nods to fellow bop pioneers Charlie Parker and Dizzy Gillespie on a revision of their "Salt Peanuts." Philly Joe Jones' mimicking cymbal speak -- which replicates Gillespie's original vocals -- is nothing short of genius. This rendition is definitely as crazy and unpredictable here as the original. Thelonious Monk also gets kudos on "Well, You Needn't." This quintet makes short work of the intricacies of the arrangement, adding the double horn lead on the choruses and ultimately redefining this jazz standard. Although there is no original material on Steamin', it may best represent the ability of the Miles Davis quintet to take standards and rebuild them to suit their qualifications.</p>&mdash; <b>Lindsay Planer</b>
Miles Davis Workin' With The Miles Davis Quintet <p>Workin' is the third in a series of four featuring the classic Miles Davis Quintet: Davis (trumpet), John Coltrane (tenor sax), Red Garland (piano), and Philly Joe Jones (drums). Like its predecessors Cookin' and Relaxin', Workin' is the product of not one -- as mythology would claim -- but two massively productive recording sessions in May and October of 1956, respectively. Contradicting the standard methodology of preparing fresh material for upcoming albums, Davis and company used their far more intimate knowledge of the tunes the quintet was performing live to inform their studio recordings. As was often the case with Davis, the antithesis of the norm is the rule. Armed with some staggering original compositions, pop standards, show tunes, and the occasional jazz cover, Workin' is the quintessence of group participation. Davis, as well as Coltrane, actually contributes compositions as well as mesmerizing performances to the album. The band's interaction on "Four" extends the assertion that suggests this quintet plays with the consistency of a single, albeit ten-armed, musician. One needs listen no further than the stream of solos from Davis, Coltrane, Garland, and Jones, with Paul Chambers chasing along with his rhythmic metronome. Beneath the smouldering bop of "Trane's Blues" are some challenging chord progressions that are tossed from musician to musician with deceptive ease. Chambers' solo stands as one of his defining contributions to this band. In sly acknowledgement to the live shows from which these studio recording sessions were inspired, Davis concludes both sets (read: album sides) with "The Theme" -- a brief and mostly improvised tune -- indicating to patrons that the tab must be settled. In this case, settling the tab might include checking out Steamin', the final Miles Davis Quintet recording to have been culled from these historic sessions.</p>&mdash; <b>Lindsay Planer</b>
Miles Davis 'Round About Midnight <p>Given that Round About Midnight was Miles Davis' debut Columbia recording, it was both a beginning and an ending. Certainly the beginning of his recording career with the label that issued most if not all of his important recordings; and the recording debut of an exciting new band that had within its ranks Philly Joe Jones, Paul Chambers, pianist Red Garland, and an all but unknown tenor player named John Coltrane. The title track was chosen because of its unique rendition with a muted trumpet, debuted at the Newport Jazz Festival the summer before to a thunderous reception. The date was also an ending of sorts because by the time of the album's release, Davis had already broken up the band, which reformed with Cannonball Adderley a year later as a sextet, but it was a tense year. Musically, this sound is as unusual and as beautiful as it was when issued in 1956. Davis had already led the charge through two changes in jazz -- both cool jazz and hard bop -- and was beginning to move in another direction here that wouldn't be defined for another two years.</p> <p>Besides the obvious lyrical and harmonic beauty of "Round About Midnight" that is arguably its definitive version even over Monk's own, there are the edges of Charlie Parker's "Au Leu-Cha" with its Bluesology leaping from every chord change in Red Garland's left hand. Coltrane's solo here too is notable for its stark contrast to Davis' own: he chooses an angular tack where he finds the heart of the mode and plays a melody in harmonic counterpoint to the changes but never sounds outside. Cole Porter's "All of You" has Davis quoting from Louis Armstrong's "Basin Street Blues" in his solo that takes out the tune, and Coltrane has never respected a melody so much. But it's in "Bye-Bye Blackbird" that we get to hear the band gel as a unit, beginning with Davis playing through the melody, muted and sweet, slightly flatted out until he reaches the harmony on the refrain and begins his solo on a high note. Garland is doing more than comping in the background; he's slipping chord shapes into those interval cracks and shifting them as the rhythm section keeps "soft time." When Coltrane moves in for his break, rather than Davis' spare method, he smatters notes quickly all though the melodic body of the tune and Garland has to compensate harmonically, moving the mode and tempo up a notch until his own solo can bring it back down again. Which he does with a gorgeous all-blues read of the tune utilizing first one hand and then both hands to create fat harmonic chords to bring Davis back in to close it out. It's breathtaking how seamless it all is. There's little else to say except that Round About Midnight is among the most essential of Davis' Columbia recordings.</p>&mdash; <b>Thom Jurek
Miles Davis Relaxin' With The Miles Davis Quintet <p>Relaxin' features the Miles Davis Quintet in a pair of legendary recording dates -- from May and October of 1956 -- which would generate enough music to produce four separate long-players: Cookin', Relaxin', Workin', and Steamin'. Each of these is considered not only to be among the pinnacle of Davis' work, but of the entire bop subgenre as well. As with the other titles, Relaxin' contains a variety of material which the band had concurrently been performing in their concert appearances. In a brilliant stroke of time conservation, the scheme was hatched for the quintet -- who includes: Davis (trumpet), John Coltrane (tenor sax), Philly Joe Jones (drums), and Red Garland (piano) -- to perform the equivalent of their live repertoire in the studio for eventual release. The results are consistently superior both in terms of song selection as well as performance. The solid nature of the unit as a singular musical force is immediately apparent. "If I Were a Bell" -- from the play Guys and Dolls -- includes some remarkable soloing via Coltrane and Garland. Davis' solos are additionally impressive, as they're derived from the same four-note motive as the melody. Hearing the many variations that he comes up with throughout the song conveys how intrigued Davis must have been by the tune, as it stayed in his performance repertoire for decades. Tracks such as "You're My Everything" and "Oleo" highlight the synchronic nature of Davis and Coltrane as they carry each other's melodies while trading off solos. The steady syncopation of Philly Joe Jones keeps the rhythms tight and the delicate interplay all the more conspicuous. Relaxin' offers something for every degree of jazz enthusiast. Likewise, the quintet's recordings provide a tremendous introduction for the curious jazz consumer.</p>&mdash; <b>Lindsay Planer</b>
Miles Davis Cookin' With The Miles Davis Quintet <p>Cookin' is the first of four albums derived from the Miles Davis quintet's fabled extended recording session on October 26, 1956. The concept being that the band would document their vast live performance catalog in a studio environment, rather than preparing all new tracks for their upcoming long-player. The bounty of material in the band's live sets -- as well as the overwhelming conviction in the quintet's studio sides -- would produce the lions share of the Cookin', Relaxin', Workin', and Steamin' albums. As these recordings demonstrate, there is an undeniable telepathic cohesion that allows this band -- consisting of Miles Davis (trumpet), John Coltrane (tenor sax), Red Garland (piano), and Philly Joe Jones (drums) -- to work so efficiently both on the stage as well as in the studio. This same unifying force is also undoubtedly responsible for the extrasensory dimensions scattered throughout these recordings. The immediate yet somewhat understated ability of each musician to react with the ingenuity and precision is expressed in the consistency and singularity of each solo as it is maintained from one musician to the next without the slightest deviation. "Blues By Five" reveals the exceptional symmetry between Davis and Coltrane that allows them to complete each other's thoughts musically. Cookin' features the pairing of "Tune Up/When Lights Are Low," which is without a doubt a highlight not only of this mammoth session, but also the entire tenure of Miles Davis mid-'50s quintet. All the elements converge upon this fundamentally swinging medley. Davis' pure-toned solos and the conversational banter that connects with Coltrane and later Garland during "When the Lights Are Low" resounds as one of the finest moments between these musicians.</p>— <b>Lindsay Planer</b>
Miles Davis The Legendary Prestige Quintet Sessions <p>What you get on Legendary Prestige Quintet Sessions is a rather unwieldy four-disc box set (in a longbox; remember those?) containing the complete recordings of the Miles Davis Quintet with Red Garland, Paul Chambers, John Coltrane, and Philly Joe Jones recorded for Prestige, and remastered and repackaged according to chronology rather than release dates from the albums Miles, Workin', Relaxin', Steamin', Miles Davis and the Modern Jazz Giants, and Cookin'. The fourth disc contains radio and television appearances which have never been released before. The first four tracks are from the Tonight Show in 1955, with Steve Allen as he gives two different spoken intros that are fine to hear once, but a drag after that (and one wonders what Miles must have thought of them), and result in two quintet performances, "Max Is Making Wax (Chance It)" by Oscar Pettiford and the standard "It Never Entered My Mind." The six cuts are from different live shows from radio broadcasts of live gigs at the Blue Note in Philadelphia in 1956 and the Café Bohemia in New York in 1958. There are two performances of "Walkin," one each of "Four," "Bye Bye Blackbird," and Dizzy Gillespie's "Two Bass Hit." In addition, the second portion of disc four is enhanced and contains Miles solo transcriptions that are suitable for printing, two of "Tune Up" (the original version and the one from the Blue Note gig), and "Four" (both the original studio version and one from Café Bohemia). There is also a transcription of the solo played during "Max Is Making Wax (Chance It)" from the Tonight Show. There is a longbox booklet with a solid essay by Bob Blumenthal and it's full of groovy black-and-white photos. Miles freaks -- and trumpet players, perhaps -- will have to have this, one supposes. But as real bonus material designed to get you to buy the original recordings over again, or unless you're an an audiophile, it's rather difficult to discern the upgraded quality of sound, and seems rather pointless. The high marks are for the music, not the box set itself.</p><p>&mdash; <strong>Thom Jurek</strong></p><hr/><p>When you talk about Miles Davis, you're really talking about something like eight musicians: a sideman to Bird during the bebop revolution; catalyst of cool jazz; hard bop and modal pioneer; enabler of John Coltrane and leader of the “first great quintet”; nurturer of the younger “second great quintet” in the mid-'60s; collaborator in large ensembles with his musical soul mate, Gil Evans; initiator of an uncompromising jazz-rock-funk fusion; and elder statesmen of a more polished, though still-distinct, fusion in the 1980s.</p><p>Even within those periods there are fascinating mini-chapters, like his work from the early 1950s. Now, on the occasion of what would've been Miles Davis' 90th birthday this month, comes The Complete Prestige 10-Inch LP Collection, a sometimes-disorienting, ultimately sumptuous set of eleven vinyl records from 1951–54, nine of which feature Miles as the sole leader.</p><p>The bulk of Miles Davis' canonical output is on Columbia Records, which he left in 1986 for Warner Brothers in his final years. His pre-Columbia work from 1951–56 was, for the most part, on Prestige Records, a small, fledgling indie label in Hell's Kitchen launched by Bob Weinstock in 1949. This set is not a comprehensive examination of his stay at Prestige&mdash;that is available on the 8-CD Miles Davis Chronicle: The Complete Prestige Recordings, 1951–1956&mdash;nor is there any new material here, but the recordings are in the exact format of their release, the forgotten 10-inch vinyl record, something new at the time that could accommodate more minutes than 78 rpm discs, which were the common format for popular recordings. “I was excited about the freedom this new technology would give me,” Miles wrote in his autobiography. “I had gotten tired of that three-minute lockstep that the 78s had put musicians in.”</p><p>If you're not familiar with the 10-inch format, you'll have to stay on your toes, as sides rarely go beyond 12 or 13 minutes (and sometimes run for as little as 8 minutes.) The set is in chronological order, more or less, to show how his work progressed, and features the original cover art, complete with typographical errors. (A 7–by–10 replica of one of Miles Davis' paintings is also included.)</p><p>The music, too, will keep you on your toes, and enthralled. In many ways, this is one of his most rollicking periods. It's post-Bird, post-birth-of-cool (released by Capitol Records), yet pre-great quintet with John Coltrane, which coalesced at Prestige in 1955 (not included in this set) and progressed into super-stardom at Columbia. Miles is still very much trying to find himself, musically and personally. A few of the musicians he organized for what several years later was called Birth of The Cool&mdash;white musicians, it should be said&mdash; took it to the West Coast and ran with it. Meanwhile, he was battling heroin addiction. “Heroin,” he wrote in his autobiography, “was my girlfriend.”</p><p>The Complete Prestige 10-Inch LP Collection is a document then of a search, an exhilarating one: a search for self, a search for a sound, a search for an aesthetic, a search for like minds. His various band mates on these dates include: Sonny Rollins, Art Blakey, Jackie McLean, Charles Mingus, John Lewis, Max Roach, Lucky Thompson, Roy Haynes, Horace Silver, Milt Jackson, Thelonious Monk, and Zoot Sims, whom, according to Miles' autobiography, he did heroin with right before they recorded Miles Davis Plays the Compositions of Al Cohn in January 1953, on LP 4. It is&mdash;maybe because of the drugs, maybe because it wasn't Miles' idea to play Cohn's music&mdash;one of the rare uninspired records here. So is the first, Modern Jazz Trumpets, of which Miles is only one of four leaders, along with Fats Navarro, Dizzy Gillespie, and the forever under-appreciated Kenny Dorham, highlighted on the cover as “Kinny.” (Remember, typos preserved.)</p><p>The rest&mdash;before H and after H&mdash;is nearly always stirring. Of that first recording, even Miles admitted he wasn't up to par: “I didn't play well,” Davis wrote of that January 1951 session, “but I think everyone else played well&mdash;especially Sonny [Rollins].” Indeed, Miles and Sonny had something special, and they have three dates together on this set across four of the LPs. As exceptional as some of the talent Miles assembled is, it didn't always produce memorable partnerships. Charles Mingus, who plays piano on one tune&mdash;and he was a good piano player, just listen to Mingus Plays Piano&mdash;was never a going to be good fit with Miles. They both had huge personalities. And although he and Thelonious Monk did mesh well together, and played beautifully on four of these LPs, they clashed personally.</p><p>By around 1954, Miles wrote that he'd hoped to form a steady touring band with Rollins, Horace Silver on piano, Kenny Clarke on drums, and Percy Heath on bass. It wasn't meant to be: Rollins had to deal with his own drug issues; Silver joined Art Blakey's Jazz Messengers; and Clarke went to the Modern Jazz Quartet. That great-quartet-that-never-was did have one session, on the LP Miles Davis with Sonny Rollins from June 29, 1954. The results hover around perfection as they play the Rollins originals “Oleo,” “Airegin,” “Doxy,” and the Gershwin standard “But Not for Me.”</p><p>Miles kicked his heroin habit by 1954 and had a great year, all of which is included in this set, and almost all of his sessions were now recorded at Rudy Van Gelder's across the river in New Jersey (though in his Hackensack living room, before he built his fabled studio in Englewood Cliffs). The following year, he did settle on a band, but with another tenor, John Coltrane, a 20-year-old bassist named Paul Chambers, Red Garland on piano, and Philly Joe Jones on drums. Not so bad. That quintet would go on to have recording dates for Prestige in 1955 and '56, which became the four albums Cookin', Steamin', Relaxin', and Workin', though now on 12-inch vinyl as the industry transitioned yet again by the mid-'50s.</p><p>The Complete Prestige 10-Inch LP Collection can, however, be a little puzzling. If you have a collection of Miles Davis records and want to know if you already own some of this material, it might not be immediately clear. Many fans might own a previous version of, say, Walkin', which on the cover says “Miles Davis All Stars.” But here, “Walkin' ” appears not as an LP but merely as a tune&mdash;a phenomenal 13-minute version with the superlative tenorist Lucky Thompson&mdash;from the April 29, 1954 LP Miles Davis All Star Sextet. Nor is it spelled out that Walkin' (the 12-inch version, released by Prestige in 1957) is a compilation of two of the 10-inch LPs&mdash;Miles Davis Quintet in addition to Miles Davis All Star Sextet&mdash;plus one song not on this set. It all gets a little eye-crossing. You can figure most of this out, eventually, flipping back-and-forth from the 12-inch or CD you own (if you do) and the enclosed booklet. It is either maddening or a little fun, depending on your disposition&mdash;the fan as archivist.</p><p>The Complete Prestige 10-Inch LP Collection even rewards when you least expect it, like in 1951's Lee Konitz Featuring Miles Davis, one of the few times, besides with Bird, where Miles was a sideman. (Cannonball Adderley's 1958 Blue Note album Somethin' Else was another, a record so luminous Uniqlo made a T-shirt out of it.) They were colleagues from Birth of the Cool, and Miles liked his playing, even defended him when he was criticized by other black musicians for hiring a white saxophonist. Konitz, the proto avant-gardist who was the first musician to record for Prestige in '49, worked hard&mdash;like Miles&mdash;to never sound like anyone else, and the two are almost otherworldly here, drifting inquisitively around each other, then as one, as if it were the birth of the free-cool. The daring hints at what would come, for Konitz (still underrated and still playing challenging music at age 88), and for Miles, always prepared to risk, always willing to move beyond his comfort zone. To hear Miles Davis develop&mdash;as a person, as a musician, and as a bandleader, in the midst of technological changes&mdash;makes this series of recordings on Prestige specialized, yes, but also quite special.</p><p>&mdash; <strong>Michael J. Agovino, Pitchfork</strong></p>
Miles Davis 'Round About Midnight <p>Given that Round About Midnight was Miles Davis' debut Columbia recording, it was both a beginning and an ending. Certainly the beginning of his recording career with the label that issued most if not all of his important recordings; and the recording debut of an exciting new band that had within its ranks Philly Joe Jones, Paul Chambers, pianist Red Garland, and an all but unknown tenor player named John Coltrane. The title track was chosen because of its unique rendition with a muted trumpet, debuted at the Newport Jazz Festival the summer before to a thunderous reception. The date was also an ending of sorts because by the time of the album's release, Davis had already broken up the band, which reformed with Cannonball Adderley a year later as a sextet, but it was a tense year. Musically, this sound is as unusual and as beautiful as it was when issued in 1956. Davis had already led the charge through two changes in jazz -- both cool jazz and hard bop -- and was beginning to move in another direction here that wouldn't be defined for another two years.</p> <p>Besides the obvious lyrical and harmonic beauty of "Round About Midnight" that is arguably its definitive version even over Monk's own, there are the edges of Charlie Parker's "Au Leu-Cha" with its Bluesology leaping from every chord change in Red Garland's left hand. Coltrane's solo here too is notable for its stark contrast to Davis' own: he chooses an angular tack where he finds the heart of the mode and plays a melody in harmonic counterpoint to the changes but never sounds outside. Cole Porter's "All of You" has Davis quoting from Louis Armstrong's "Basin Street Blues" in his solo that takes out the tune, and Coltrane has never respected a melody so much. But it's in "Bye-Bye Blackbird" that we get to hear the band gel as a unit, beginning with Davis playing through the melody, muted and sweet, slightly flatted out until he reaches the harmony on the refrain and begins his solo on a high note. Garland is doing more than comping in the background; he's slipping chord shapes into those interval cracks and shifting them as the rhythm section keeps "soft time." When Coltrane moves in for his break, rather than Davis' spare method, he smatters notes quickly all though the melodic body of the tune and Garland has to compensate harmonically, moving the mode and tempo up a notch until his own solo can bring it back down again. Which he does with a gorgeous all-blues read of the tune utilizing first one hand and then both hands to create fat harmonic chords to bring Davis back in to close it out. It's breathtaking how seamless it all is. There's little else to say except that Round About Midnight is among the most essential of Davis' Columbia recordings.</p>&mdash; <b>Thom Jurek
Miles Davis Workin' / Steamin' <p><strong>Workin'</strong> is the third in a series of four featuring the classic Miles Davis Quintet: Davis (trumpet), John Coltrane (tenor sax), Red Garland (piano), and Philly Joe Jones (drums). Like its predecessors Cookin' and Relaxin', Workin' is the product of not one -- as mythology would claim -- but two massively productive recording sessions in May and October of 1956, respectively. Contradicting the standard methodology of preparing fresh material for upcoming albums, Davis and company used their far more intimate knowledge of the tunes the quintet was performing live to inform their studio recordings. As was often the case with Davis, the antithesis of the norm is the rule. Armed with some staggering original compositions, pop standards, show tunes, and the occasional jazz cover, Workin' is the quintessence of group participation. Davis, as well as Coltrane, actually contributes compositions as well as mesmerizing performances to the album. The band's interaction on "Four" extends the assertion that suggests this quintet plays with the consistency of a single, albeit ten-armed, musician. One needs listen no further than the stream of solos from Davis, Coltrane, Garland, and Jones, with Paul Chambers chasing along with his rhythmic metronome. Beneath the smoldering bop of "Trane's Blues" are some challenging chord progressions that are tossed from musician to musician with deceptive ease. Chambers' solo stands as one of his defining contributions to this band. In sly acknowledgment to the live shows from which these studio recording sessions were inspired, Davis concludes both sets (read: album sides) with "The Theme" -- a brief and mostly improvised tune -- indicating to patrons that the tab must be settled. In this case, settling the tab might include checking out Steamin', the final Miles Davis Quintet recording to have been culled from these historic sessions.</p><p>&mdash; <strong>Lindsay Planer</strong></p><hr/><p><strong>Steamin'</strong> -- Although chronologically the last to be issued, this collection includes some of the best performances from the tapes which would produce the albums Cookin', Relaxin', Workin', and ultimately, Steamin'. A primary consideration of these fruitful sessions is the caliber of musicians -- Miles Davis (trumpet), Red Garland (piano), John Coltrane (tenor sax), and Philly Joe Jones (drums) -- who were basically doing their stage act in the studio. As actively performing musicians, the material they are most intimate with would be their live repertoire. Likewise, what more obvious place than a studio is there to capture every inescapable audible nuance of the combo's musical group mind. The end results are consistently astonishing. At the center of Steamin', as with most outings by this band, are the group improvisations which consist of solo upon solo of arguably the sweetest and otherwise most swinging interactions known to have existed between musicians. "Surrey With the Fringe on Top" is passed between the mates like an old joke. Garland compliments threads started by Davis and Coltrane as their seamless interaction yields a stream of strikingly lyrical passages. There are two well-placed nods to fellow bop pioneers Charlie Parker and Dizzy Gillespie on a revision of their "Salt Peanuts." Philly Joe Jones' mimicking cymbal speak -- which replicates Gillespie's original vocals -- is nothing short of genius. This rendition is definitely as crazy and unpredictable here as the original. Thelonious Monk also gets kudos on "Well, You Needn't." This quintet makes short work of the intricacies of the arrangement, adding the double horn lead on the choruses and ultimately redefining this jazz standard. Although there is no original material on Steamin', it may best represent the ability of the Miles Davis quintet to take standards and rebuild them to suit their qualifications.</p><p>&mdash; <strong>Lindsay Planer</strong></p>
Miles Davis Milestones <p>What is immediately noticeable upon listening to this delicately and superbly remastered version of Miles Davis classic first — and only — album with his original sextet is how deep the blues presence is on it. Though it is true that the album's title cut is rightfully credited with introducing modalism into jazz, and defining Davis' music for years to come, it is the sole selection of its kind on the record. The rest is all blues in any flavor you wish you call your own. For starters, there's the steaming bebop blues of "Dr. Jackie" — recorded in 1955 for a Prestige session with Jackie McLean. Davis is still in his role as a trumpet master, showing a muscularity of tone that reveals something more akin to Roy Eldridge or Louis Armstrong than Dizzy or Fats Navarro. The tempo is furious as all the members of the sextet solo except for Jones. The saxophonists trade choruses and come off sounding like mirrored images of one another in the slower, post-bop blues that is "Sid's Ahead." With a slippery melody line that quotes two harmonic lines from early New Orleans-styled blues, Davis drives the band into the rhythm section's garage. It's Cannonball first with his stuttered, angular lines, hiccuping halfway through the interval before continuing on with a squeak here and the slightest squawk there. Next up is Davis, blowing fluid and straightened lines, ribbons through the rhythm section's center as Red Garland lays out and leaves it to Paul Chambers and Philly Joe Jones to provide the earnest, time-keeping 4/4 that Davis sidles to in the tune. When Coltrane solos, all best are off as he plays as pure a blues as he was capable at the time. Nonetheless, there are the long lines of slurred notes, smattered against Garland's harmonies and he slips into quoting "Skip to my Lou" before knotting it back down to the basics and even then not for long. Coltrane was already exploring the edges of mode and harmony; he used an intervallic invention in the choruses to juxtapose his solo against the rhythm section and it worked — but it must have made Davis raise an eyebrow. Chambers' solo is as tasteful and as breezy and free as only he could be. His contrapuntal soloing rides the rhythm out, Garland striding along quietly until the tune returns.</p><p>"Sid's Ahead" is followed by the track "Two Bass Hit," written by Dizzy and John Lewis. It's an off-kilter blues with a wide middle section, no doubt for Lewis' piano to fill. It's a wonderful ensemble showcase but Davis blows his ass off in his solo, riding through the two saxophonists and challenging them at the same time. But then comes "Milestones" with its modal round and interval, where harmony is constructed from the center up. It is a memorable tune for not only its structure and how it would inform not only Davis' own music, but jazz in general for the next seven years. It would also change John Coltrane's life. The exploratory style of soloing was already revealing itself in Trane's playing, but he loosens it up even more here. More importantly, this is the first place we get to see it in Davis, where there is no goal at the end of the rainbow, there is merely the solo itself in the heart of the mode. The alternate take of this tune, which is featured at the end of the album, tagged on with two others of "Two Bass Hit" and "Straight, No Chaser," has an even longer and weirder solo by Davis where he plays notes he probably never played again. The album's closer is Monk's "Straight, No Chaser," which became a signature tune for the sextet even when Garland and Jones left to be replaced by Bill Evans and Jimmy Cobb and later Evans by Wynton Kelly. Like "My Funny Valentine," it was a Davis staple that accented how intuitive the band was with unusual harmonic structures like Monk's. The Adderley solo is remarkable for its fluid, bebop-style runs over Garland's extended chords and flatted sevenths. Cannonball quotes the melody in a myriad of ways and goes off the deep end each time he does, taking the new rendition to its limit, always returning it to the blues root. Davis plays it cool, slithering around the rhythm section staying firmly in blues phraseology, even quoting a reverse harmonic melodic read of "When the Saints Go Marching In," bringing it in and out three times while pushing the blues line to its edge. Coltrane's solo is all over the place, slurring notes as he plays weird scales all over the blues and triple times the rhythm section. But he knows the tune better than anyone here — he spent six months with Monk just previous to this playing it every night. Coltrane knows how much he can stretch the intervals without breaking apart the body. He inserts his own modal interpretation on the blues halfway through his solo before slipping into the straight, swinging groove of his Blue Train album, finished only two months before. Garland, oddly enough, is the one to travel the furthest from Monk here, coming off with a Bud Powell-esque blues muscle that shifts the entire tune into a straight bebop blues before sifting in a few Errol Garland quotes as the bass solos and then the front line comes in to take it out. The alternate take is even stranger as Garland falters in his time not once but twice and has to find his way back in.</p><p>Legacy has done it proud on this series of reissues, as the sound is as fine as technology can currently make it, the notes are terrific, and the alternate takes offer additional delights to fans of the original recordings. They should also be commended for leaving them at the bottom of the album instead of placing them in with the original album's sequence, a practice that though widely used is distracting nonetheless. This is a fine issue of a classic, and treated like the piece of art it is.</p>&mdash; <b>Thom Jurek</b>
Miles Davis Ascenseur Pour L'Echafaud <p>In 1957 Miles Davis went to France for a short tour and while there recorded the soundtrack for the film Ascenseur Pour l'Echafaud. This CD contains the original LP of material plus 19 minutes of unreleased alternate versions. Better than many soundtracks, this music (which also features the tenor of Barney Wilen and pianist René Urtreger) does not really stand on its own without the film, so it's of mostly historical interest.</p>&mdash; <b>Scott Yanow</b>
Miles Davis Jazz At The Plaza <p>Back in 1958, Jazz at the Plaza was never meant to be a record; it was a Columbia party at the Plaza, a place jazz had never been played before. Also on the bill were Duke Ellington, Billie Holiday, and Jimmy Rushing. Despite the fine remastering job done by the Sony crew, Jazz at the Plaza remains more a curiosity piece than an essential recording by a remarkable band, strictly because of its dodgy recording quality. The 40-minute set is plagued by the problem of barely being able to hear Davis in places, particularly on the stellar opener, "If I Were a Bell," and Evans is all but absent on much of the record. In fact, there is no mix; it's just a flat-out two- or three-mike set. That said, the performance is far from dodgy. There are four tunes in the set: the previously mentioned old stripe from Guys and Dolls; "Oleo," played at a blistering tempo; "My Funny Valentine," which, although recorded by Davis' previous quintet for Prestige, had become a staple in the sextet's play book; and Monk's "Straight, No Chaser." It is perhaps the last that brings the sextet to full bloom in this performance. Davis plays the theme faster than normal, alternating the groove between full and cut time, and Bill Evans goes directly to quoting "Blue Monk" in his own solo. Also notable is the performance of "My Funny Valentine" without the saxophone giants John Coltrane or Cannonball Adderley. But here, again, given the recording quality, it just feels like they weren't miked -- the audience is louder than the band on most of this. Nonetheless, Davis had turned the tune inside out by this time and was playing it in his new modal style; the melody became a skeleton and was replaced by the ghosts of intervals that kept its integrity and made it recognizable. This is not to say Davis had abandoned melody for mode entirely because his melodic sensibility, which was instinctual, is what made the modalism on the sextet level possible in the first place. Ultimately, Jazz at the Plaza succeeds mightily on the level of its fine performance, but is for hardcore jazz fans only, due to its dubious sound quality.</p><p>&mdash; <strong>Thom Jurek</strong></p>
Miles Davis Blue Christmas
Miles Davis Kind Of Blue <p>Miles Davis's most famous recording remains his most influential. It is not just that this album helped popularize modal jazz (improvising based on modes or scales rather than running chord changes) or that it introduced two future standards ("So What" and "All Blues") and three other gems ("Freddie Freeloader," "Blue in Green" and "Flamenco Sketches"). Most impressive is how the solos of Miles Davis, John Coltrane and Cannonball Adderley (what a lineup), despite their differing styles, fit the songs perfectly.</p><p>&mdash; <strong>Scott Yanow</strong></p><p>More than any other, this album is listed as a desert island choice by musicians, historians and critics alike. Six of the best jazz musicians in history are all playing at an outstanding level: Davis, John Coltrane, Cannonball Adderley, Bill Evans, Paul Chambers, and Jimmy Cobb. It is one of the few albums in which every improvisation is perfect. It also sports the most mellow of all Coltrane ballad solos, and the best-constructed Adderley improvisations on record.</p></p>The album is historically pivotal for providing the model that Bill Evans helped Davis refine for using modes instead of chords as the basis of improvisation. The Evans and Davis tunes and improvisational methods on it became stock repertory for jazz musicians of the next 30 years.</p><p>&mdash; <strong>Mark C. Gridley</strong></p>
Miles Davis Miles Davis & John Coltrane - The Final Tour - The Bootlegs <p>The sixth volume in Legacy's Miles Davis Bootleg Series circles back to 1999's Miles Davis and John Coltrane: The Complete Columbia Recordings 1955-1961, with an exclamation point. The four discs here are taken from five concerts in March 1960: Two sets from L'Olympia in Paris, two at Stockholm's Konserthuset, and one from Copenhagen's Tivolis Koncertsal. The three-week European tour was part of the Jazz at the Philharmonic series produced by George Wein. Accounts from Davis and drummer Jimmy Cobb claim certifiable tension surrounding John Coltrane. He left the band at the end of 1959 and reportedly had to be talked (hard) into taking the gig by Davis. It was the trumpeter's first European tour as an international jazz star, and the band -- with Cobb, pianist Wynton Kelly, and bassist Paul Chambers were among the cats who recorded 1959's Kind of Blue.</p><p>From the opening moments of "All of You" in the first Paris show, it's obvious that what's happening on-stage wasn't planned. It took everyone, with the possible exception of Coltrane, by surprise, and is more than 17-minutes long. The lengthy solo by the saxophonist greets the changes with dissonance, sharp angles, and a (then) atypical fury as he tries out new sounds, fingerings, and breathing techniques. Kelly brings it back inside with his own solo, light, fleet, expert, and swinging. "All of You" is followed by a blazing 13-minute "So What," offered with the illuminating contrast that would underscore the tour: The reinvention of standards from the '40s and '50s with more open, less melodic modal jazz epitomized by the Kind of Blue material. In the first version of "All Blues," Davis follows Chambers and Kelly by adding more physicality to his own playing without sacrificing his lyric invention. It foreshadows Coltrane's wailing solo full of multiphonics, honks, and banks of layered scales that wove together East and West. The short reading of the bop standard "Oleo" is the only place in either of the Paris concerts where the saxophonist reigns himself in. "All Blues" from Copenhagen is also faster. Chambers' short solo intro is picked up by Kelly's fat vamp and Cobb's stutter-step beat before Davis takes the lean melody and stretches it, opening a door for Coltrane, who commences slowly before breaking its structure wide open. Once more, it's Kelly's grooving solo with glorious right-hand flourishes that brings the hard swing back to the equation. All the music here is filled with these moments. The decision to rework the standards in order to make room for more openness was wise and all one needs to do is check the three versions of "On Green Dolphin Street" here for evidence. Interestingly, while the tour established Davis' international rep for good, it was Coltrane who benefitted most from the tour -- he was all but unknown before it, and unforgettable after. The tape sources are all official: The Copenhagen gig is remastered from a state radio broadcast and the other two concerts are from producers' archives, making this historic set among the most essential in the Bootleg Series.</p><p>&mdash; <strong>Thom Jurek</strong></p><hr/><p>The audible friction between Davis and Coltrane on almost every number of this four-disc set makes for a fascinating listen, a live document of two players undergoing tectonic shifts in their style.</p><p>By 1960, modern jazz was in upheaval. This shift was thanks in no small part to the seismic, artistic advances that Miles Davis and his quintet had made the year prior when he released Kind of Blue, a still-astonishing document of restraint and free melodic expression that would go on to become one of the best-selling jazz albums of all-time. That same year, John Coltrane also pivoted to the cascading changes and torrential outpouring (deemed "sheets of sound") of his breakout solo album, Giant Steps. Distinct from the restrained and cool sound of his boss, Coltrane was well on his own skyward trajectory when Davis brought him back to the fold for a European tour booked by jazz impresario Norman Granz, which also featured Stan Getz on tenor sax and Oscar Peterson on piano. It marked the first time Davis would tour with his own band, and they were met with packed houses and rapturous applause each night. But as Davis wrote in his 1989 autobiography: "[Coltrane] decided to go with us, but he grumbled and complained and sat by himself all the time we were over there."</p><p>These three weeks of grumbling and complaining comprise Miles Davis and John Coltrane: The Final Tour, the sixth edition of Columbia's Miles Davis Bootleg Series. Across the five previous installments lies a latent theme of tension and change, each volume revealing a transitory aspect of Davis' sound. But none bear the audible friction between Davis and Coltrane on almost every number of this four-disc set, which draws from two concerts in Paris, two from Stockholm, and one from Copenhagen. You can hear the sideman straining to push past Davis—the man primarily responsible for realizing that Coltrane could be Coltrane. In turn, Coltrane's stratospheric rise would soon lead Davis to raze his sound to its foundation and build it up anew in the years to come.</p><p>From the song selection on this volume, it's clear Davis is already approaching a crossroads in his own repertoire. He wants to explore both the Kind of Blue material still fresh on his mind while also satisfying the crowd with the type of exquisite balladry that had helped make him one of the most famous jazz artists of the era. So the fake book standards from his 1957 album 'Round About Midnight are juxtaposed with the emotive modal jazz monoliths "So What" and "All Blues" from Kind of Blue, all featuring the blowing of Coltrane, who sometimes sounds like he's trying to explode the songs from within.</p><p>For instance, Davis and band move at a dizzying double-time tempo on the four sprawling takes of "So What." Rather than the iconic smoldering slink that opens Kind of Blue, Paul Chambers' slow vamp speeds up to a roiling bassline. At this speed, it's a treat to hear the nimble pianist Wynton Kelly tackle the number, adding a bluesy and rollicking feel to the chart. On the first performance at the Olympia in Paris, Davis soars to the upper register in his solo before drifting back down. Coltrane enters with a bluesy phrase that briefly aligns with Davis before his vibrato opens wide. Coltrane starts pushing at the boundaries of the song, the flurry of notes coming faster and faster.</p><p>Coltrane sounds a little confined in the changes, like he's straining to break free not just from the song but the earth's gravitational pull. Nearing the nine-minute mark, his overblowing and dissonance elicits a few hoots and whistles. While the "new thing" in jazz was already stirring and gaining steam thanks to the likes of Ornette Coleman, Cecil Taylor, and Sun Ra's reedsman John Gilmore, few in the European audience would have experienced such new sounds live.</p><p>The raspy dissonance Coltrane flashes on "Bye Bye Blackbird" earns plenty of whistles and shouts, and only on "Round Midnight" is he compact and concise within the song. Whether it was from the promoters, the press, or Davis himself, who never had a good word to say about the free jazz stylings of Coleman or Taylor, Coltrane feels a little bit more reigned in after this particular night.</p><p>Not that there isn't plenty to admire outside of the outré. Kelly's take on Bill Evans' original, more ascetic piano lines adds a new wrinkle to "All Blues," swinging between two chords and giving the horns plenty of space to move. Meanwhile, Coltrane's solo fidgets like a hummingbird around a blossom, attacking the song from as many angles as manageable while Kelly's own turn features playful cascades and big shimmering chords.</p><p>The solo order remains the same throughout the set (Davis, then Coltrane, then Kelly, and sometimes Chambers), so a sense of predictability does settle in across the four discs. Which is not to say that there's still not plenty of play to be had here, as sly allusions abound throughout: Davis quotes a line of "Dixie" on one version of "Walkin'," Kelly plinks in a phrase of Monk's "In Walked Bud" during "So What," Coltrane quotes "Willow Weep for Me" one night in Stockholm. And amid Coltrane's nightly quests through "So What," he starts to sow the seeds for what would in a few years become one of his signature songs, "Impressions," itself built on the same harmonic structure as the Kind of Blue song.</p><p>That's not the only advance Coltrane made on his last tour with Davis. "Before he quit, I gave him that soprano saxophone," Davis recalled in his autobiography, the instrument that would come to signify Coltrane's ascension to spiritual jazz. "I always joked with him that if he had stayed home and not come with us on this trip, he wouldn't have gotten that soprano saxophone, so he was in debt to me for as long as he lived." It's a patented Miles blend of joke and hyperbole. But his relationship with Coltrane proved to be the kind of impetus that would push Davis to reinvent himself, as well. Soon after, neither star would sound quite like this again.</p><p>&mdash; <strong>Andy Beta</strong></p>
Miles Davis Miles Davis Live In 1958 <p>This LP contains radio and television appearances by two versions of Davis's groups along with a mystery band. Side one is the main reason to acquire this set for it features versions of "Four," "Bye Bye Blackbird" and "No Blues" performed by the Davis Quintet of 1958 with tenor-saxophonist John Coltrane, pianist Bill Evans, bassist Paul Chambers and drummer Philly Joe Jones. There are two other songs ("All of You" and "Four" supposedly played by the same group but actually dating from Sept. 1957 and featuring Davis with Bobby Jaspar on tenor, pianist Tommy Flanagan, Chamber and Jones. Concluding this set is a televised jam-session version of "What Is This Thing Called Love" on which the personnel listing is mostly wrong. Davis is not present (the trumpeter might be Nat Adderley or Art Farmer ) but one can hear baritonist Gerry Mulligan, trombonist Bennie Green and percusionist Candido. Miles Davis and 'Trane completists will need to acquire this LP anyway.</p>&mdash; <b>Scott Yanow</b>
Miles Davis Sorcerer <p>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. The emphasis is as much on complex, interweaving chords and a coolly relaxed sound as it is on sheer improvisation, though each member tears off thoroughly compelling solos. Still, the individual flights aren't placed at the forefront the way they were on the two predecessors -- it all merges together, pointing toward the dense soundscapes of Miles' later '60s work. It's such a layered, intriguing work that the final cut, recorded in 1962 with Bob Dorough on vocals, is an utterly jarring, inappropriate way to end the record, even if it's intended as a tribute to Miles' then-wife, Cicely Tyson (whose image graces the cover).</p>&mdash; <b>Stephen Thomas Erlewine</b>
Miles Davis Filles De Kilimanjaro <p>Since it's billed as "Directions in Music By Miles Davis," it should come as little surprise that Filles de Kilimanjaro is the beginning of a new phase for Miles, the place that he begins to dive headfirst into jazz-rock fusion. It also happens to be the swan song for his second classic quintet, arguably the finest collective of musicians he ever worked with, and what makes this album so fascinating is that it's possible to hear the breaking point -- though his quintet all followed him into fusion (three of his supporting players were on In a Silent Way), it's possible to hear them all break with the conventional notions of what constituted even adventurous jazz, turning into something new. According to Miles, the change in "direction" was as much inspired by a desire to return to something earthy and bluesy as it was to find new musical territory, and Filles de Kilimanjaro bears him out. Though the album sports inexplicable, rather ridiculous French song titles, this is music that is unpretentiously adventurous, grounded in driving, mildly funky rhythms and bluesy growls from Miles, graced with weird, colorful flourishes from the band. Where Miles in the Sky meandered a bit, this is considerably more focused, even on the three songs that run over ten minutes, yet it still feels transitional. Not tentative (which In the Sky was), but certainly the music that would spring full bloom on In a Silent Way was still in the gestation phase, and despite the rock-blues-n-funk touches here, the music doesn't fly and search the way that Nefertiti did. But that's not a bad thing -- this middle ground between the adventurous bop of the mid-'60s and the fusion of the late '60s is rewarding in its own right, since it's possible to hear great musicians find the foundation of a new form. For that alone, Filles de Kilimanjaro is necessary listening. [The 2002 reissue features one bonus track: "Tout de Suite (Alternative Take)."]</p>&mdash; <b>Stephen Thomas Erlewine </b>
Showing 381–400 of 2096 reviews  ·  Page 20 of 105