Miles Davis: Agharta/Pangaea

When it was decided in 1990 to delve deeply into jazz, there had been a bit of previous toe-dipping through the music of Miles Davis, including his music of the mid to late Eighties (which had some interesting elements) as well as the sublime Kind of Blue (1959) and the phenomenal Bitches Brew (1970).  When it was time to take that headlong dive, one of the first recordings purchased was Pangaea, issued in 1991 for the first time in the United States.  As testament to how powerful the impact of this album was, the recollection, thirty years later, of where the long box double-disc set was purchased is still crystal clear, even to the exact location on the south wall of the store.

Taking Pangaea home and listening to it was, simply put, a mind-blowing experience.  The septet of the leader, Sonny Fortune on saxes and flute, lead guitarist Pete Cosey, guitarist Reggie Lucas (co-producer of Madonna's first album), Michael Henderson on electric bass, drummer Al Foster, and Mtume (James Forman, the son of the great saxophonist Jimmy Heath before he became a pop success), was an incredibly tight and powerful band as they traveled to Japan early in 1975 and performed afternoon and evening concerts in Osaka on 1 February that yielded the albums Agharta, released the following year, and Pangaea, which was withheld for fifteen years.  So, while the latter has more of a visceral memory and is now viewed as a classic, because it was the first purchased, the former is generally accounted the better of the two, with the reasoning being that the band had more energy and intensity in the afternoon and showed some fatigue, especially Miles, in the evening, where the playing was somewhat more restrained and with darker and edgier passages reflective, perhaps, of some flagging of energy.

While that debate about which is better is interesting, this admirer doesn't see that much difference, with perhaps more up-tempo, high-energy playing, including by Miles, during the earlier session.  There are times during both performances where the band is locked into what seems an eternal groove, with Henderson and Foster (whose stamina and power are something to behold) holding down the steadiest of rhythms, Mtume creating all sorts of fascinating percussive effects, Fortune wailing away on the sax, Lucas keeping his rhythm guitar solid and steady and Cosey, when soloing, elevating his guitar cries to the heavens with some amazing playing.  Much of the music on these two albums, however, goes into quieter spaces, almost ambient at times, with stabs of synthesizers and drum machines influenced by the likes of Stockhausen as a counter to the insistent rock and funk elements that pervade many other moments.  There are even moments of "old-fashioned" swing and times when Fortune beautifully plays the flute.  As for Davis, it was once said that his playing and soloing didn't change even as the music around him did, but he still, at an age much older than his bandmates, had to keep up a terrific and demanding pace to direct and perform with the young ones and he still sounds strong for most of these recordings.

Once Miles and the group returned to the United States there were a few more performances, but in great pain with a variety of physical ailments, hobbled by chemical addictions, and exhausted by a relentless pace going back some thirty years, Davis withdrew from music for five full years.  After a haze of drugs, drink and other diversions and hardly leaving his home, Miles returned in 1980 a very different musician.  In a creative sense, Agharta and Pangaea were an end of an era and the culmination of three decades of a constant need to change course and pursue "new directions in music," as his albums once proudly stated.  Hearing these records remains a powerful experience and definitive statements of an era by a master musician and his stellar band.

Miles at the Fillmore: Miles Davis 1970: The Bootleg Series Vol. 3

The "Bootleg Series" of live recordings by Miles Davis and various ensembles, now comprising six volumes, released by Sony Music ranging from the mid-1950s to the mid-1970s, can be viewed, on one hand, as an attempt to mine the vaults for further product and trade off the legacy of the legendary trumpeter, bandleader, and mercurial figure. 

Conversely, fans see these, variably, as valuable additions to his discography in which concert performances, much of which was previously unreleased (or, if so, were heavily edited) demonstrate the remarkable interplay and sonic power of the Dark Magus' groups over a radically changing period.  After all, no figure in jazz morphed musically (and sartorially) so memorably without compromising his integrity as Davis.

This third volume of performances at the Fillmore East in New York, with some additions of parts of gigs at the companion venue, the Fillmore West, in San Francisco, is amazing, not just for the often-blistering, pounding, and soaring work done by a stunning band, but, because of the context. 

Davis agreed to play shows at the historic rock venues, owned by impresario Bill Graham, as a vehicle to get his music out to younger people.  This was a very shrewd move, given the massive decline of interest by those folks in jazz from the mid-Sixties onward, but it also exposed him to often cockeyed criticism that he was selling out (yes, that 26-minute version of "Bitches Brew" on the album of the same name was the easiest way to crack the Top Ten.)

It is strange to note that Davis opened (yes, OPENED) for Laura Nyro, Steve Miller, and Neil Young and Crazy Horse, at some of these shows.  From a purely commercial perspective, it was obviously necessary (at least to Graham), but artistically, it was clear that, good as all of those performers were, Miles and his band were masters (including technically and in innovation in sound) way above the levels of the headliners.

In any case, here are staggering performances of classics of the Bitches Brew era, with the title track, "It's About That Time," and "Spanish Key" complemented by "Directions," standout from the mid-Sixties quintet, and other tunes from earlier incarnations (including strange truncated verions of "I Fall in Love Too Easily," added, perhaps, as brief quiet interludes to the bubbling cauldron of intense electric sound otherwise served piping hot to the mostly white, young audiences.)

There was a two-LP (or CD) album released by Columbia at the time, but it was heavily and interestingly edited by producer Teo Macero.  The full pieces are restored in this edition, handled by noted producer Michael Cuscuna and Richard Seidel (whose detailed liners with great photos are also great to have.)  The San Francisco performances, from April, included young sax player Steve Grossman, Chick Corea on electric piano, Airto Moreira on a variety of percussion instruments (cool additions of texture and color), Dave Holland on bass, and Jack DeJohnette on drums. 

This was a great band, though Grossman, who was 19, was criticized for overabundance in his playing.  But, then, for the June shows in New York, Keith Jarrett was brought in on electric organ (heard through the right channel, where Corea was in the left) and his prodigious talents added to those of the remarkable Corea (the great ensemble Circle morphed from this pairing) to really enhance the sound of this unbeatable ensemble.

Miles' electric period is the favorite of this blogger, though all periods are valued for various reasons, and this 4-CD deep digging into live performance of an astounding group is really a revelation.