THE masterpiece, universally acknowledged . By rockers, by rappers, by jazzists, by aficionados and cognoscenti, by layfolk and by elevator riders. A monolith of lyric beauty and depth.
It is perfect.
079: Miles Davis, ‘So What’ (“Kind of Blue”)
Miles Davis
124: Bill Evans, ‘Nardis’
Dying from his life-long drug habit, in a harrowing burst of creative energy, Bill Evans raged against ‘the dying of the light’ night after night in these relentless, probing, profound performances.
Continue reading...041: Miles Davis, ‘It Never Entered My Mind’
Why did Miles Davis, a belligerent black ex-junkie, choose to reboot his career with white music of a rare, tender sweetness? Who cares?
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055: Miles Davis/Gil Evans, ‘Concierto de Aranjuez’ (“Sketches of Spain”)
In which a jazz recasting of classical favorite trumps the classical original. Gil Evans and a taste of heaven.
Continue reading...244: Bill Evans/Miles Davis, ‘On Green Dolphin Street’
Moledro — a feeling of resonant connection with an artist.
Some disparate notions about Bill Evans, all of them moledros.
130: Thelonious Monk, ‘Let’s Call This’ (Monk’s Advice to Lacy)
You talk about a different drummer? Thelonious Monk inhabited a not-so-parallel universe. He played very few notes, and those unpredictable. Metronomes were witnessed imploding in his presence. He pounded the keyboard with extended, flat fingers. He got up in the middle of a song to dance. He wore funny hats. Sometimes he just refused to talk. But he gave soprano saxophonist Steve Lacy some unforgettable advice about how to be a ‘cool’ musician. Or maybe about How To Be. “A genius is the one most like himself,” Monk says. Clearly, Monk was exactly like Monk.
Continue reading...003: Garcia/Grisman, ‘So What’
Chief Deadhead Jerry Garcia and Reb David Grisman merrily plucking their newgrass cover of Miles.
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