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Miles and Coltrane

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Miles and Coltrane
Miles Davis and John Coltrane

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AH-LEU-CHA.
Miles Davis, trumpet
John Coltrane, tenor sax
Julian "Cannonball" Adderley, alto sax
Bill Evans, piano
Paul Chambers, bass
Jimmy Cobb, drums.
Newport, Rhode Island, July 4, 1958.

STRAIGHT, NO CHASER.
Same as "Ah-Leu-Cha."
Newport, Rhode Island, July 4, 1958.

FRAN-DANCE (PUT YOUR LITTLE FOOT RIGHT OUT).
Same as "Ah-Leu-Cha."
Newport, Rhode Island, July 4, 1958.

TWO BASS HIT.
Same as "Ah-Leu-Cha."
Newport, Rhode Island, July 4, 1958.

BYE BYE BLACKBIRD.
Same as "Ah-Leu-Cha."
Newport, Rhode Island, July 4, 1958.

LITTLE MELONAE*.
Miles Davis, trumpet
John Coltrane, tenor sax
Red Garland, piano
Paul Chambers, bass
Philly Joe Jones, drums.
New York, October 27, 1955.

BUDO*.
Same as "Little Melonae."
New York, October 27, 1955.
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Original Recordings Produced by Teo Macero
*Produced by George Avakian

Digital Producer: Teo Macero
Digitally Remixed by Tim Geelan

All Digital Engineering and Mastering at CBS Studio, New York
Jazz Masterpieces Series Coordination: Mike Berniker and Amy Herot
Historical Research: Nathaniel Brewster
Cover Design Allen Weinberg
Cover Photo: Bernie Thrasher

This compact disc contains previously released material.
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The late pianist Bill Evans titled his double-tracking experiments in the early 70s "Conversations With Myself." Conversation ... what a great metaphor for the jazz solo! In a conversation, each person has a distinct tone of voice, each has something special to say, and each chooses a different way of gelling his point across. The stronger the opinions, the bolder the conceptions, the greater the personalities ... the better the conversation becomes. And so it is with jazz.

In this collection we're privileged to eavesdrop on conversations by two of the greatest players in jazz: Miles Davis and John Coltrane. Both were innovators, both were expert technicians, both were continually exploring new directions. But each approached the jazz solo from a very different point of view. A comparison could be made with Hemingway and Faulkner. Miles is like Hemingway, spilling out short, perfectly crafted sentences. Coltrane is like Faulkner, examining every detail in long intricate passages. This combination of approaches is what made the Miles Davis Quintet one of the best jazz groups of the fifties.

1955 was a fateful year for jazz. It was the year that Charlie Parker died. It was the year that Miles Davis reclaimed the title of trumpet king with a show-stopping performance at the Newport Jazz Festival. It was also the year in which jazz's next innovator took his first steps toward world renown. John Coltrane was already being talked about in jazz circles by the time he joined Miles in mid-1955. However, his playing was still very much in the formative stage. He was basically a bebop player in the style of Charlie Parker. But his dedication to his instrument was well known, developed after years of R&B gigs in Philadelphia, and stints with jazz masters like Dizzy Gillespie, Earl Bostic and Johnny Hodges. Joining the quintet not only brought Trane to a larger audience, it placed him in a musical pressure cooker, where his ideas could be developed under Miles' demanding tutelage.

Miles did his first recordings for Columbia with his new bond on October 27, 1955. A contractual dispute prevented them from being issued on LP at the time. "Budo" and "Little Melonae" are from these first sessions. The recordings capture Miles and Trane at very different periods in their artistic progress. Miles is relaxed and confident, his playing firmly rooted in the" cool" style he pioneered in the late forties. Miles developed on approach to the trumpet that stressed content, and down played the pyrotechnics that had become natural for bebop trumpet players. His playing was termed "cool" and on entire movement of jazz was built around it, primarily among West Coast musicians. But "cool" was really a misnomer. There's nothing that suggests emotional detachment on these recordings. Miles ploys with intensity and fire; not the three-alarm blaze of bebop but a smoldering, rumbling kind of flame that flickers with possibilities but never burns down the house.

In contrast, Coltrane plays straight-ahead bebop. Although his playing is excellent, no new ground is being broken. But two elements of his style stand out: his wonderfully flexible sense of time, and his hauntingly beautiful tone. On these recordings, Coltrane has already discovered his voice, but he is still searching for something to say.

Throughout 1955 and 1956, Coltrane worked in the Miles Davis Quintet. But he was unsatisfied. Plagued by personal problems, haunted by his limitations on his instrument, Trane dropped out of the band. He returned home for a period of woodshedding. He resumed active playing in early 1957, joining Thelonious Monk's highly original quartet. Monk's music was difficult and dense. The chord progressions were startling and innovative. Monk's eccentricities extended to his performing style as well. After concluding a piano solo, Monk would often leave the bench and embark on a wild lurching dance, leaving Coltrane all alone to solo, sometimes for as long as half an hour. Monk pointed the way and Coltrane responded. By the end of 1957 he was again ready for Miles.

The rest of the tracks are taken from a performance by the Miles Davis Sextet at the Newport Jazz Festival, July 4, 1958. From the opening track, "Ah-Leu-Cha;' it is obvious how far Coltrane has come. Miles tokes the tune at a blistering tempo, shedding his usually careful phrasing for some bebop grandstanding. Trane tokes the second solo spot and he sounds like a man possessed. The emotional impact is staggering. Trane's playing has changed in two basic ways. First, his concept of time is different. Instead of breaking down the measures into equal parts, like quarter notes, eighth notes and sixteenth notes, Trane pushes odd clusters of notes between the beats, creating a rhythm and pulse that weaves in and out of the standard 4/4. He combines this new rhythmic sense with a vastly expanded concept of harmony. Trane studied thousands of scales. He experimented playing these scales over different chords, letting each chord suggest a myriad of scales and harmonic extensions.

The next tune, a blues by Monk titled "Straight, No Chaser" highlights the diversity of the sextet. Each member tokes a different approach to these very standard blues changes. Miles' solo is perfect. His control, his tone, his choice of notes and careful construction make for a beautiful performance. Trane steps in, probably playing more notes in the first four bars than Miles uses in his entire solo. Trane may be struggling a bit with his new conception, but it's a bold, propulsive struggle, and a treat to listen to. Then it's Cannonball Adderley's turn. Cannonball was never on innovator like Trane or Miles; but he was a wonderfully buoyant player who made his mark in the early sixties by returning jazz to its gospel and soul roots. His solo digs deep into the R&B side of his playing, shouting the blues with shakes and slides and blue-notes. Pianist Bill Evans comes out of his usually introspective shell to provide a swinging, carefully chosen solo. Bassist Paul Chambers finishes the round of solos with a straight-ahead bebop solo, on amazing feat for any bassist. Was there ever a six-piece unit with so many varied and unique solo voices? It's hard to imagine one better.

This diversity doesn't always work as well. "Fran Dance” Miles' reworking of the dance tune "Put Your little Foot Right Out;' suffers a bit from the soloists' different conceptions. Miles, playing with his harmon mute right up against the microphone, creates a delicate and fragile mood which is shattered by Adderley's bluesy solos and Trane's explosive harmonies. But things really begin to soar on "Two Bliss Hit” Dizzy's big band favorite is a perfect Coltrane showcase. The tempo is frantic and Trane shows complete mastery of his horn, slipping in and out of double time, toying with complex note clusters and distant harmonies, while drummer Jimmy Cobb catches rhythmic fire.

But the greatest and most fully realized performance is on "Bye Bye Blackbird.” Miles had a genius for discovering the essence of the melody in any song. He seemed to delight in picking up corny songs like "Someday My Prince Will Come" and metamorphosing it into a haunting ballad. On "Blackbird” Miles gives a textbook lesson on melodic improvisation, playing variation after variation on the simple theme. Miles delighted in teasing audiences with displays of musical ESP, and here, he ends his solo four measures into the beginning of the next chorus. Without missing a beat, Trane steps in. He retraces Miles' steps, restating the theme, but preceding each note with a furious blast of notes that Ira Gitler was to call "sheets of sound." As the solo progresses, he steps further and further away from the melody and harmony of the song. It is an intense, searching solo, Coltrane's best on the album and a harbinger of the greatness that lay in store for him.

Miles and Trane would work together for another two years. But Trane was unhappy for much of that time, yearning to explore his new conception of the saxophone in his own way. But the brief time they worked together was a golden time for jazz lovers. Never again would Miles or Trane work on a regular basis with soloists who could match their incredible powers.

Jeff Rosen



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