Miles From India
How timely that Miles From India: A Celebration of the Music of Miles Davis should arrive when I’m in the midst of an obsessive electric Miles phase. It seems like a no-brainer: Conceived by Times Square Records honcho Yusuf Gandhi and produced by Bob Belden, the man responsible for Columbia’s vault-cleaning, everything-but-the-kitchen-sink series of archival Miles box sets, this double CD brings together former Davis sidemen -- ranging from venerable Kind of Blue drummer Jimmy Cobb to Benny Rietveld, who played in one of the iconic trumpeter’s last touring bands -- with classical and jazz musicians from India.
The concept’s not as random as it seems. Miles employed Indian instruments in his music during 1972 and 1973 (live and on the albums On the Corner, Get Up With It, Big Fun, and Miles Davis In Concert), although as Miles Beyond author Paul Tingen points out, it’s likely that Miles did so more out of an interest in having an additional color or texture than from any profound interest in or understanding of Indian music. That said, the match is a good one, since India’s musical traditions (like Miles’ post-Kind of Blue music) are characterized by both monophony (the absence of chord changes) and modal (scalar) improvisation.
Most of the basic tracks for Miles From India were cut in Mumbai and Madras, after which the American musicians overdubbed their parts. You wouldn’t know it from hearing the results, which are seamless, with a natural-feeling, organic groove. The tunes are largely drawn from Miles’ most popular and influential albums -- three from Kind of Blue, two each from In a Silent Way and Bitches Brew – with another three from the odds-and-sods collection Big Fun (including fast and slow takes of “Ife”), and one lone selection from his ’81-’91 comeback.
The first disc’s opener, Bitches Brew’s “Spanish Key,” plays thesis-antithesis-synthesis, leading off with a lyrical exposition featuring Davis disciple Wallace Roney on open horn and Indian muso Louiz Banks on acoustic piano, then introducing Indian elements with a section that contrasts Roney’s muted horn and Banks’ shimmering Fender Rhodes with the sounds of vocalist Shankar Mahadevan and flutist Rakesh Chaurasia, before moving into a groove section in which Rietveld and Lenny White (who drummed on the original) blend their sounds with those of the mridangam and kanjira (Indian percussion instruments). There’s a smoldering alto sax solo by Rudresh Mahanthappa and one by guitarist Mike Stern that replicates the fury of the one he played on 1980’s “Fat Time.”
The version of Kind of Blue’s “All Blues” is fine, once you get past the strangeness of hearing the head played on sitar (which initially hits like some attempt to add Indian spice to the soundtrack of a ‘60s Peter Sellers movie). The fast “Ife” features three members of Miles’ monumental ’73-’74 band: reedman Dave Liebman, bassist Michael Henderson, and guitarist Pete Cosey, who takes a characteristically slash-and-burn solo. It’s good to hear Cosey on disc again, considering he’s made fewer recorded appearances since his days with Davis than the average alumnus.
The late Josef Zawinul’s beautiful melody “In A Silent Way” is played on sarod, while the triumvirate of keyboardists (Chick Corea-Herbie Hancock-Zawinul) on the original recording of “It’s About That Time” is replaced here by latter-day Davis ivory-tinklers Adam Holzman and Robert Irving III. The real news on this track, though, is violinist Kala Ramnath, who carries the head and then solos with abandon (in between concise statements by altoist Gary Bartz and Cosey). The version of Miles’ sing-songy late-period signature tune “Jean Pierre” contains the fewest Indian elements of any tune here, with guitarist Stern copping a bit of his ‘80s section mate John Scofield’s sound. The uncredited wordless vocals (by Mahadevan?) are as redolent of hip-hop as they are of the subcontinent, and Rietveld takes a nice solo. (Producer Belden's vid of Mike Stern's studio solo appears below.)
Corea himself makes an appearance on the second disc’s opener, “So What,” after some more “voice percussion.” The trio of percussionists -- Selva Ganesh, Sridhar Parthasarthy, and Taufiq Qureshi – makes the groove elastic. As on all the Kind of Blue tunes, Miles ‘60s bassist Ron Carter is on board, in this case mixing it up with Ndugu Chancler (who’s also on “It’s About That Time”). The track flows seamlessly into “Miles Runs the Voodoo Down” from Bitches Brew in the manner of the onstage medleys the Davis band played from the ‘60s onwards. Once again, Roney does an effective job of invoking the master’s style on open horn. The rhythm section swirls around a hypnotic Henderson ostinato while Holtzman essays guitar-like sounds from his electronic keyboard, then Cosey unleashes another distortion-and-feedback laden firestorm, giving way to a percussion-only jam, featuring Vikku Vinayakram on ghatam (an earthenware pot).
The lyrical mood of Kind of Blue’s “Blue In Green” is transformed by Dilshad Khan’s sarangi (a kind of bowed lute) and Mahadevan’s melismatic vocal. “Great Expectations” juxtaposes a “Peter Gunn”-like vamp (with solo spots featuring bass clarinet -- played by Miles’ ‘80s collaborator, bassist-producer Marcus Miller -- sitar, and Cosey’s scorching guitar) with a lyrical Holtzman keyboard interlude. For this listener’s money, the set’s finest moment comes on the dark and mysterious “Ife (slow),” with Henderson and original tabla player Badal Roy (watch Belden's vid of him laying down his part below) providing the foundation for solo excursions by Liebman (on tenor), Bartz (on soprano) and Cosey (who provides effective lead-rhythm). Not to worry the point to death, but merely to emphasize how nice it is to have a new Pete Cosey record in 2008. The last word goes to guitarist John McLaughlin, who did some of his best playing with Miles (although he declined to join the trumpeter’s touring band) and has worked with Indian musicians since his 1970 album My Goal’s Beyond. His commissioned original “Miles…From India” closes the set on a ruminative note.
Totally enjoyable on its own terms, the "East meets West" effect of this tribute is evocative of the Tabla Beat Science (see clip below) project that Zakir Hussein and Miles’ Panthalassa remixer Bill Laswell undertook in the early ‘00s. While the Indian musicians are virtuosic, their mastery doesn’t seem as exhibitionistic as some of the fusion foolishness that followed in the wake of Bitches Brew’s ground-breaking melding of jazz and rock aesthetics. While fusion was about formal complexity and technical flash, Miles’ own ‘70s work was more concerned with simplicity of form and depth of expression, making it a good fit with the spiritual and meditative aspects of Indian music. Miles From India also serves notice that Indian musicians are demonstrating mastery of western improvisational forms, as well as their own.
The concept’s not as random as it seems. Miles employed Indian instruments in his music during 1972 and 1973 (live and on the albums On the Corner, Get Up With It, Big Fun, and Miles Davis In Concert), although as Miles Beyond author Paul Tingen points out, it’s likely that Miles did so more out of an interest in having an additional color or texture than from any profound interest in or understanding of Indian music. That said, the match is a good one, since India’s musical traditions (like Miles’ post-Kind of Blue music) are characterized by both monophony (the absence of chord changes) and modal (scalar) improvisation.
Most of the basic tracks for Miles From India were cut in Mumbai and Madras, after which the American musicians overdubbed their parts. You wouldn’t know it from hearing the results, which are seamless, with a natural-feeling, organic groove. The tunes are largely drawn from Miles’ most popular and influential albums -- three from Kind of Blue, two each from In a Silent Way and Bitches Brew – with another three from the odds-and-sods collection Big Fun (including fast and slow takes of “Ife”), and one lone selection from his ’81-’91 comeback.
The first disc’s opener, Bitches Brew’s “Spanish Key,” plays thesis-antithesis-synthesis, leading off with a lyrical exposition featuring Davis disciple Wallace Roney on open horn and Indian muso Louiz Banks on acoustic piano, then introducing Indian elements with a section that contrasts Roney’s muted horn and Banks’ shimmering Fender Rhodes with the sounds of vocalist Shankar Mahadevan and flutist Rakesh Chaurasia, before moving into a groove section in which Rietveld and Lenny White (who drummed on the original) blend their sounds with those of the mridangam and kanjira (Indian percussion instruments). There’s a smoldering alto sax solo by Rudresh Mahanthappa and one by guitarist Mike Stern that replicates the fury of the one he played on 1980’s “Fat Time.”
The version of Kind of Blue’s “All Blues” is fine, once you get past the strangeness of hearing the head played on sitar (which initially hits like some attempt to add Indian spice to the soundtrack of a ‘60s Peter Sellers movie). The fast “Ife” features three members of Miles’ monumental ’73-’74 band: reedman Dave Liebman, bassist Michael Henderson, and guitarist Pete Cosey, who takes a characteristically slash-and-burn solo. It’s good to hear Cosey on disc again, considering he’s made fewer recorded appearances since his days with Davis than the average alumnus.
The late Josef Zawinul’s beautiful melody “In A Silent Way” is played on sarod, while the triumvirate of keyboardists (Chick Corea-Herbie Hancock-Zawinul) on the original recording of “It’s About That Time” is replaced here by latter-day Davis ivory-tinklers Adam Holzman and Robert Irving III. The real news on this track, though, is violinist Kala Ramnath, who carries the head and then solos with abandon (in between concise statements by altoist Gary Bartz and Cosey). The version of Miles’ sing-songy late-period signature tune “Jean Pierre” contains the fewest Indian elements of any tune here, with guitarist Stern copping a bit of his ‘80s section mate John Scofield’s sound. The uncredited wordless vocals (by Mahadevan?) are as redolent of hip-hop as they are of the subcontinent, and Rietveld takes a nice solo. (Producer Belden's vid of Mike Stern's studio solo appears below.)
Corea himself makes an appearance on the second disc’s opener, “So What,” after some more “voice percussion.” The trio of percussionists -- Selva Ganesh, Sridhar Parthasarthy, and Taufiq Qureshi – makes the groove elastic. As on all the Kind of Blue tunes, Miles ‘60s bassist Ron Carter is on board, in this case mixing it up with Ndugu Chancler (who’s also on “It’s About That Time”). The track flows seamlessly into “Miles Runs the Voodoo Down” from Bitches Brew in the manner of the onstage medleys the Davis band played from the ‘60s onwards. Once again, Roney does an effective job of invoking the master’s style on open horn. The rhythm section swirls around a hypnotic Henderson ostinato while Holtzman essays guitar-like sounds from his electronic keyboard, then Cosey unleashes another distortion-and-feedback laden firestorm, giving way to a percussion-only jam, featuring Vikku Vinayakram on ghatam (an earthenware pot).
The lyrical mood of Kind of Blue’s “Blue In Green” is transformed by Dilshad Khan’s sarangi (a kind of bowed lute) and Mahadevan’s melismatic vocal. “Great Expectations” juxtaposes a “Peter Gunn”-like vamp (with solo spots featuring bass clarinet -- played by Miles’ ‘80s collaborator, bassist-producer Marcus Miller -- sitar, and Cosey’s scorching guitar) with a lyrical Holtzman keyboard interlude. For this listener’s money, the set’s finest moment comes on the dark and mysterious “Ife (slow),” with Henderson and original tabla player Badal Roy (watch Belden's vid of him laying down his part below) providing the foundation for solo excursions by Liebman (on tenor), Bartz (on soprano) and Cosey (who provides effective lead-rhythm). Not to worry the point to death, but merely to emphasize how nice it is to have a new Pete Cosey record in 2008. The last word goes to guitarist John McLaughlin, who did some of his best playing with Miles (although he declined to join the trumpeter’s touring band) and has worked with Indian musicians since his 1970 album My Goal’s Beyond. His commissioned original “Miles…From India” closes the set on a ruminative note.
Totally enjoyable on its own terms, the "East meets West" effect of this tribute is evocative of the Tabla Beat Science (see clip below) project that Zakir Hussein and Miles’ Panthalassa remixer Bill Laswell undertook in the early ‘00s. While the Indian musicians are virtuosic, their mastery doesn’t seem as exhibitionistic as some of the fusion foolishness that followed in the wake of Bitches Brew’s ground-breaking melding of jazz and rock aesthetics. While fusion was about formal complexity and technical flash, Miles’ own ‘70s work was more concerned with simplicity of form and depth of expression, making it a good fit with the spiritual and meditative aspects of Indian music. Miles From India also serves notice that Indian musicians are demonstrating mastery of western improvisational forms, as well as their own.
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