The release of the full concert recordings from Miles’ four night stay at the Fillmore East in June, 1970 came to me as a short, sharp shock. I paid my usual daily visit to Allmusic.com, and there it was, featured in the new release section on the cover page. After all of these years, to see this music released caused my jaw to (figuratively) hit the floor. I needed a few minutes to recover.
Considering the important historical position Miles holds in the history and lexicon of jazz, it is more remarkable – unbelievable in fact – these recordings were not made available decades earlier. Forty four years is a long time to hold such music in abeyance. The how and why of it is of no interest, as there are hopefully good legal and financial reasons why this occurred. But there are no good musical reasons for it, and that is what listeners care about.
All that said, the music is here, finally – and what a joy it is for me to finally hear these shows in their entirety for the first time.
For all of the things that can and most certainly will be said about this music, the first thing that comes to memory is the reaction of a friend who attended at least one of the shows. He was a fan of Laura Nyro, and Miles’ band was the opening act for her during these particular Fillmore dates. And so it was that Michael sat through the Miles set impatiently, waiting for Miss Nyro’s performance. This was a number of months prior to my own exposure to Davis’ music, as I purchased Bitches Brew early the next year.
At our lunch table he gushed about Laura Nyro’s performance, when someone asked him if there was an opening act. Big mistake.
“Miles Davis.” He practically spat the words. “I hate him. HATE HIM.” Michael spread his vitriol towards Miles and his music for the next ten minutes or so. I remember wondering what kind of music could cause him to behave in such a manner, and intended to find out. He liked all manner of female singers and songwriters, and while I also became a huge fan of Laura Nyro, I dreaded hearing the other singers he constantly listened to, (with the exception of Janis Joplin) so I was interested to find out what could cause such an outburst.
Jazz is hard to get for some – and that is just a fact of life.
My original copy of Bitches Brew arrived in early 1971 via the Columbia Record Club. I played it a lot. It was over my head in many respects, but with all the listening to BB and other recordings (such as Soft Machine’s Third), I found myself speaking the language before I knew I was doing so. But it became clear to me why my friend Michael spoke of it so negatively: He simply could not hear it. Attuned to other styles and with little or no desire to expand his musical borders, Davis’ music bounced off of him like a playground spaldeen off a crack in the concrete. Not just him though; this was a common occurrence in the development of music, especially so with jazz and even more recently at that time with the first emergence of Rock and Roll in the ’50s and the British Invasion of the 60’s.
So… Davis takes his massive stature in the jazz community and embarks on a journey in search of a new form of music. Only this time, it utilizes electric instruments and is played at a significantly higher volume than the other jazz forms he was prominent in playing and creating such as Be Bop, Cool, Hard Bop, and Modal Jazz. His new music then manages to create an audience of young listeners who had never listened to jazz before, even as much of the audience who appreciated his masterful earlier works ran away in shock and bewilderment – or at the very least stood to the side and shook their heads in disbelief.
Like many other young listeners at the time, I was right in the middle of it and enjoyed, nay savored, every moment – as much as any teenage kid could. Listening to these performances over the course of this weekend, the sound and the fury of the music and the times which gave birth to it bring back so many pleasant memories I find myself in my mind’s eye walking over to the Fillmore with my friends for yet another concert. In reality, I was able to attend concerts at the Fillmore East only twice, both in early 1971 – and neither one a Miles concert. But I’m happy to remember the hope, excitement and enthusiasm of the time, all of which are reflected so well in the music documented in this new release.
That is what I really miss. The hopeful emotional excesses of those times. Ralph J. Gleason said it best in the liner notes to Bitches Brew when he wrote:
this is new and right now it has the edge of newness and that snapping fire you sense when you go out there from the spaceship where nobody has ever been before.
Listen to this music now, and feel the fire from four plus decades ago fill your veins as though it was just performed today. The edge of newness still bites, and its sting reminds us of a time when hope and change were things to desire and reach for, not ideas to be feared due to misuse and lies. Leave your baggage at the door and sit in that old movie theatre/concert hall and absorb the history and love and the never ending search for new ways to speak and express and swim in the joy and newness of creation that comes from the soul of the artist without even knowing how and why it came to be because it just is. It is and it reminds us all we are alive and here in the moment and it is to be savored and expressed and absorbed and released because we do not want to just keep it for ourselves it is so much better when we share it and know it with others so they can feel it too and there it is.
Miles gave this to us and shared it with the world, and he is gone now but life is never gone, because the spirit and all we hold dear in our souls is eternal and could never be any different because even those that only destroy only fail because truth and beauty outlive everything and try as they might cannot be destroyed any more than eternity itself can be. And since it can’t they will join us and the beauty and life and happiness and the spark of the never ending energy of all that is good in life stays and changes us all from within no matter how long it takes and there in itself the artists like Miles help to save us just by bringing us the music which contains all of those attributes which make life the glorious thing which carries us to the love which makes all of it worth every price for everything and every one of us.
And I find it in this music once again and hope that you will hear it and find it as well and know and understand that Miles helped us to find that place and there is still even more to come and maybe we will meet Miles in that place one day and find there is even better for all of us because the goodness just expands and grows and there it is.
In these grooves vileness is extinguished and zest and vitality are renewing and growing and grooving still and it doesn’t stop and why would it? It dances and finds its way into the source of all that is good and is that not where it came from in the first place and it wants to find you so let it and find the newness and being and all the things you thought could be and really are if you give it a chance.
Live and listen to this wondrous music again for the first time with unending joyfulness of discovery and life and all it contains and jump and dance and yell and wave and I hope to see you there.
March 31, 2014
New York City