Monday, Feb. 24, 2014 | 12:18
Shirley Horn - I Remember Miles
early in my process of determining the landmark albums in my history, the signposts that showed me where to go, i decided i would have only one jazz album, that the entirety of my interest in jazz would hinge on my enjoyment of 'bitches brew'. this is a convenient half-truth as a) i already had jazz albums before i got that and b) i bought several miles davis releases on the same day, or at least in the same week (in the mid- or late-90's sony released special import remastered editions of several of his "electric" albums, many of which i bought--in retrospect i should have ponied up the dough for them all). why do i stick with 'bitches brew' as the pivotal moment when i got into jazz? why does it go on my wall? simple: when i think about my introduction to jazz i don't think about 'the birth of the cool' or 'blue train', i think about a groove in "bitches brew". i think about being fascinated with the artwork. i think about getting 'the complete bitches brew sessions' and selling the original import disc then later tracking down that import disc and paying three times more than i originally did to replace it. i think about having my mind blown when i realized that jazz did way more than swing.
think about it: after herbie hancock's 'v.s.o.p.' concert the young turks decided bop was where it was at, wiping away two decades of jazz evolution and electrification. it was the reverse of bob dylan going electric. jazz got frozen in time and the genius of miles davis got cast into the junkpile of "fusion". that was the jazz i grew up with. for me, current jazz wasn't much different from classic jazz: wynton marsalis was baby steps from 'giant steps'. coltrane would play the blues again to see his innovations discarded wholesale. so when i heard rock'n'roll in the guise of jazz, i heard something special. it was an "echoes" moment: suddenly, everything the the musicians were doing clicked in my head and i got it. i felt it. i was transported.
nevertheless, if i examine my jazz collection further i find pieces that stand out. parts of songs, entire albums, elements that cemented my interest in jazz past and future. one of those moments is the bassline on shirley horn's rendition of "my man's gone now" off her album 'i remember miles'. again, a groove, again, something i hadn't heard before. what's more, she pays tribute to miles davis, my jazz hero. that song is modeled after his later, electric version of the song. i haven't heard that (i don't have 'big fun' even now), but i can imagine it. i can feel those electric albums through that one song. the rest of the album is very good, in a laconic, almost bluesy way, but that ten-minute recording makes it matter, and in turn makes jazz matter.
