Miles Davis: In a Silent Way

Saxophonist Bob Belden died a few weeks back and, while he was a well-known and respected musician, he also was a contributor to some of the remarkable box sets issued by Sony/Columbia Records regarding the music of the great Miles Davis.

One of the sets in which Belden made a significant contribution concerns one of the great Davis recordings, 1969's In a Silent Way.  This album marked Davis's first extensive use of electric instrumentation, but it also represented a shift in composing style and recording techniques employed by the trumpeter and his long-time producer, Teo Macero.

What is striking about this album compared to recent Davis releases with his great quintet (Hancock, Carter, Williams and Shorter) and anything else from the period is not so much that he used electric instruments, but that he created a type of sound that was more atmospheric and groove-oriented.

Bassist Dave Holland, whose dexterity, speed and power have been amply demonstrated elsewhere, plays highly repetitive lines here, but it's perfectly in service to the music Davis orchestrated.  Tony Williams, whose mastery of the cymbals was exceptional, largely plays that part of his kit for the recording, excepting towards the end of the recording.  Keyboardists Herbie Hancock, Chick Corea and Joe Zawinul, all brilliant players, are primarily concerned with laying down the ambiance that anchors the album.

The soloists are Davis, Wayne Shorter and, getting his first major exposure in the music world, the incredible John McLaughlin on guitar.  The interplay between Shorter and Davis, honed over just beyond four years of working together, is clear and precise.  Hearing the two, though, with the five-man rhythm section playing the way they did, is fresh and new compared to the quintet music that preceded this record.

McLaughlin is really, however, the linchpin of this record.  His guitar work is at times subtle, at other times direct, and usually inventive and unique.  He expanded his sonic palette on the phenomenal Bitches Brew, along with an augmented and beefed up ensemble that Davis employed.  On In a Silent Way, though, Laughlin gets more of the spotlight because of the way the sound was constructed.

Another key player is producer Teo Macero, whose uncanny way of working with Davis's methods of recording and concepts behind the music often generated some remarkable results.  Macero's edits are sometimes very jarring, as is the case with side two's In a Silent Way/It's About That Time, but his work deserves praise for the creative way in which he stitched the recordings together.  This process became more marked with subsequent records and it has been hotly debated whether there was merit in much of this.  Clearly, though, Davis wanted Macero to work in this way and, on this record, the results are excellent.

This may not be an apt corollary, but, to this listener, there is something about this record that is akin to the Birth of the Cool recordings.  It is probably more in the general sound and tempo--in which the ambiance and mid-tempo stylings are effected.  Yet, the album is anything but a reference to the past, at least not directly.  Instead, it is an emphatic nod (and it is subtle, like a nod--whereas Bitches Brew was a direct shake of the yead) toward the future.

Miles did what he needed to do after several years with the quintet to move his music in a different direction, but, in doing so, he incorporated the spirit of (and, often, direct connections to) rock, soul, pop and modern classical music.

In a Silent Way was an almost ambient way to chart new directions, where Bitches Brew was a powerful pathbreaking effort.  They are perfect companions to show where, 20 years in as a leader, Miles was going to go next.  He was called a sellout for using electric instruments and making references to popular and other forms of music.  But, how can you sell out, when you're making album long sides of 20 minutes or more?

Miles wasn't selling out, he was moving on.  The fact that he could do so, once again changing his style, personnel, composing, production and editing, and image and create another chapter in his career, when most of his contemporaries were still playing the same way they had done in the Forties, Fifties or early Sixties is testament to his greatness.  In a Silent Way is an amazing record, somewhat overshadowed by Bitches Brew, when, perhaps, it should be seen as a precursor and direct linkage.

For Fanatics Only: Miles Davis, The Complete Jack Johnson Sessions

After the groundbreaking albums, In a Silent Way and Bitches Brew, introduced yet another phase of trumpeter Miles Davis' remarkable career by launching fully into electronic instrumentation, the next album, 1971's A Tribute to Jack Johnson, which served as a soundtrack to a little-seen documentary about the great African-American boxer from the early 20th century, was poorly promoted by Columbia Records, which chose to devote resources to pushing another Davis record, the Live at the Fillmore East set, and did not sell as well as its predecessors.

Yet, Jack Johnson has attributes to it that make it a compelling continuation in Davis' development with improvisation through jazz, funk, electronic sound, and other elements.  And, as many reviewers have noted, though the ensemble playing in the aforementioned albums was excellent and Teo Macero's distinctive editing was remarkable, Davis' playing on Jack Johnson was probably better.  As importantly, the phenomenal guitarist John McLaughlin made some searing contributions that are notable sonic counterpoints (always a crucial dynamic in Miles' career) to the leader's trumpet.  The rest of the band, including Herbie Hancock on organ (no piano playing here), Michael Henderson on electric bass, drummer Billy Cobham, and young soprano sax player Steve Grossman, performs with great style and interconnectedness.

This is all the remarkable because the recording for the album began at an April 1970 session with the leader arriving late, so McLaughlin began to improvise some riffs and Henderson and Cobham quickly jumped in to provide rhythmic support.  Hancock, who had left Davis' band some time before, happened to be at the studio carrying a bag of groceries and was asked to sit at the Farfisa organ and start playing, though he resisted at first.  Finally Miles came in and, highly impressed by the jamming, quickly got his trumpet together and joined in.  After some major editing by Macero, including lifting material recorded in late 1969 and working on several takes in the main sesion, a 27-minute track called "Right Off" was assembled.

This was followed by another composite of different takes, skillfully edited by Macero with approval from Davis, called "Yesternow" and running only slightly shorter at 25 1/2 minutes.  Riffing off the bass line of James Brown's famed "Say It Loud—I'm Black and I'm Proud", as well as recycling a small section of In a Silent Way's "Shhh/It's Peaceful,"  nearly half of the length of the track was lifted from a piece called "Willie Nelson."  This excerpt, however, featured other musicians who were not credited on the album.  These included bass clarinet player Bennie Maupin, who was so notable on Bitches Brew, electric pianist Chick Corea, bassist Dave Holland, drummer Jack deJohnette, and guitarist Sonny Sharrock.

Years later, the album was finally recognized by fans, critics and musicians for its excellent level of playing and innovative editing, as well as for the important Davis placed on recognizing Johnson as a man of black power long before the movement of that name.

When Columbia began its fantastic series of complete sessions box sets for Miles, its installment released in 2003 for the Jack Johnson period proved to be one that was revelatory because it mined the various takes that not only led to the creation of the heavily-edited albim, but cotemporaneous sessions that included much unreleased material and tracks that appeared on other records, such as the follow-up, Live-Evil, and 1974's Big Fun.

Still, it is five discs crammed with material and you'd have to be a serious Miles fan to even consider acquiring the box.  But, for those who do, there are remarkable moments throughout.  One is the pre-edited versions of "Go Ahead John," which, when it appeared on Big Fun, had been processed by Macero so that the guitar and drums were manipulated and then panned back and forth on both channels.  It likely seemed super-innovative at the time, but the original heard as recorded on this set  shows far more clearly that McLaughlin was truly unique in his playing and could deliver very powerful, heavy and blistering runs that just weren't heard before or since.  Even more killer are minutes of his performances on "Right Off" that were cut from the original album and the wailing and fuzz-box skronk elicited an admiring comment from Davis that there was "some nasty shit" that the guitarist laid down.

Another great discovery is the amazing playing of the largely-unknown Sonny Sharrock, who was likely invited because he seemed as close to Jimi Hendrix, whom Miles greatly admired and planned to work with before the rock god's death several months later, as could be found.  Actually, Sharrock was a masterful slide player and his work on "Willie Nelson" is a great example of that, though interested listeners can hear much more of that in Sharrock's later solo work and with the mind-pummeling Last Exit in the late 80s and early 90s.

Discs 3 and 4 has material that appeared in Live-Evil and features two versions of "Honky Tonk" and some short, haunting and beautiful pieces by Hermeto Pascoal, a Brazilian musician, such as "Little Church" and "Nem un Talvez" that proved to be good mood pieces to break up the intensity of other tracks.  The last disc has a two-part previously unreleased piece called "The Mask" before the album versions of "Right Off" and "Yesternow" appear.

Even though there are sometimes three, four, and even six versions of certain tracks, it is fascinating to hear the process of how Davis and Macero worked to take extended versions and different takes and then carefully edit them down to the final tracks that were released.  Any given listener could probably think of many portions that were left on the cutting room floor and which could have/should have been left in.

But, for true Miles fanatics, especially those who like his so-called "fusion" period, patience and careful listening can reveal so many amazing aspects of the recording process and elements of excellent music that, as with the unfortunate excising of Sharrock's contributions, was left behind.  The Complete Jack Johnson Sessions is a lot of music to take in, but even listening to a disc at a time over, say, a week span, is an exercise in hearing a great musician and a sympathetic producer create some of the most memorable music of the era.