Killer Opening Songs - (So What by Miles Davis)

There are some records that cross the borders of musical polarisation. Sometimes they do so by fusing different rhythms, thus appealing to various tastes. Examples exist aplenty: Sergio Mendes and Brasil '66's debut album "Herb Alpert Presents" gave us the ultimate jazz-infused bossa nova Killer Opening Song, "Mas Que Nada"; The Beatles re-invented pop music by dint of being adventurous and experimental, especially in the latter part of their career; and more recently Nitin Sawhney has shown us the way in which globalisation, at least in music, can be beneficial.

However, there are also other albums that gain plaudits without abandoning the genre to which they belong. And this is the case with "Kind of Blue", Miles Davis' 1959 masterpiece. Long hailed as the jazz record that even non-jazz fans enjoy (a notion of which Mr Davis might have slightly disaproved), this LP transformed music itself. It is indicative of "Kind of Blue"'s creative range and reach that amongst its contributors was the young saxophonist John Coltrane, who had already found fame himself with the release of "Blue Train" a couple of years before. The other saxophonist in the record was Cannonball Adderley.

Above all, "Kind of Blue" became Davis's a turning point in his musical career in that he went from a bebop sound, predominant at the time, to a more experimental and improvisational one. The Killer Opening Song, "So What" bears witness to that change.

Smoky, laid-back and blues-influenced, "So What" begins with bass and piano duetting in free rhythmic style. This is quickly followed by Davis on trumpet and John Coltrane on sax. What K.O.S. loves about this track is how the piano whispers its way into the song (sadly not shown in the clip below); it's almost like a murmur so as to announce that hey, this is the real McCoy, fellas.

"So What" is followed by a collection of songs so impressively sophisticated that it shouldn't come as a surprise that fifty-one years later after "Kind of Blue" first came out, they still sound fresh: "Freddie Freeloader", rhythmic simplicity at its best; "Blue In Green", an acoustic feast with the trumpet and piano solos as the main course; "All Blues", one of the better-known compositions from the album for its melodic and groovy range and "Flamenco Sketches", the song that apparently Quincy Jones claims to play everyday .

According to pianist Billy Evans, who played on all tracks but one ("Freddie Freeloader") in the record, Miles only conceived the settings for the different pieces hours before going into the recording studio, which is why spontaneity pours forth on every track.

Whilst trailblazers like Charlie Parker broke away from the rigid structure that used to permeate jazz, pioneering bebop in the process, and innovators like Ornette Coleman brought a nihilistic element into the genre, musicians like Miles Davis provided a new colour to what was already a rich palette in the jazz world. Here's to Miles and to another Killer Opening Song.

N.B.: This post is dedicated to Daniel, the Cuban in Brazil, who recently e-mailed me to tell me that I haven't featured much jazz in my K.O.S. section. You're right, Daniel, and this is the first of many posts I will be writing about a music genre I adore.

© 2010

Next Post: "Let's Talk About...", to be published on Thursday 14th October at 11:59pm (GMT)

Song for an Autumn Sunday Morning

Yesterday my alter ego, Juan Antonio Pesetas, and Mother Nature went out shopping in the West End (that's central London). Together they paraded around Covent Garden, stopping by renowned boutiques and shops, checking the market stalls in the Piazza and trying on clothes hither and thither.

Now, let me declare a conflict of interest here. Whereas I am inclined more towards the scruffy look, my alter ego, Juan (by the way, I'm the only one authorised to call him plain Juan, or Antonio, or Pesetas, everyone else must use the full name and surnames as dictated by the rules that govern the code of fiction characters) is a Cuban dandy. He is utterly rubbish at dressing between the months of June and September. Whereas I love denim jeans and Birkenstocks in the summer months (not that we had much of that in GB this year) he is all for chinos and loafers. Whilst I love my vests (tank-tops for Americans) and short-sleeved T-shirts, he adores polo shirts.

Where we both coincide is in our love for autumn and the autumnal anticipation of winter. And that's how Juan found himself sashaying around The Mall (a place in London and not a shopping centre) with Mother Nature perched on his arm yesterday.

Mama Natura was wearing a beautiful dress made up of auburn leaves with a slightly chill wind for shoes. She confessed to my alter ego that on opening her wardrobe on September 1st, an elegant amber scarf slithered to her neck pleadingly. She just could not reject it. Her shades and hues were symbiotic with a British autumn that this year has come a bit too early (not for me, though, or for Juan, we both love it!). Pesetas, on the other hand, was wearing a beautifully tailored, plum-coloured three-piece suit, a multi-stripe double-cuff shirt and an appropriately complementary tie. And a pair of tasselled moccasins, of course.

They also found time to visit Kew Gardens in the outskirts of London. And as they walked under the weeping willows and cypresses, hugged by the reddish brown vegetation around them, Mother Nature broke into a beautiful poem by William Butler Yeats, 'The Wild Swans at Coole':

The trees are in their autumn beauty,
The woodland paths are dry,
Under the October twilight the water
Mirrors a still sky;
Upon the brimming water among the stones
Are nine-and-fifty swans.
The nineteenth
Autumn has come upon me
Since I first made my count;
I saw, before I had well finished,
All suddenly mount
And scatter wheeling in great broken rings
Upon their clamorous wings.
I have looked upon those brilliant creatures,
And now my heart is sore.
All’s changed since I, hearing at twilight,
The first time on this shore,
The bell-beat of their wings above my head,
Trod with a lighter tread.
Unwearied still, lover by lover,
They paddle in the cold,
Companionable streams or climb the air;
Their hearts have not grown old;
Passion or conquest, wander where they will,
Attend upon them still.
But now they drift on the still water
Mysterious, beautiful;
Among what rushes will they build,
By what lake’s edge or pool
Delight men’s eyes, when I awake some day
To find they have flown away?

As you may imagine, their trip was very rewarding for both, but especially for me. When he got home displaying that huge grin of his on his face like the legendary Cheshire cat, Antonio told me that Mother Nature had spent a lot of money on music and that from today until November, every Sunday morning there would be a special melody awaiting the readers of this blog (no commentary will be provided, just the clip). So, enjoy Mama Natura's songs selection every week at the same time on the same day.

Miles Davis - All Blues

Miles Davis - trumpet
Wayne Shorter - tenor sax
Herbie Hancock - piano
Ron Carter - bass
Tony Williams - drums



Copyright 2008

Road Songs (Allegro)

In his remarkable novel, 'The Unbearable Lightness of Being', Milan Kundera tells us how six fortuitous events brought Tereza and Tomas together. It was only a complex neurological case that led Tomas to Tereza's town, when he had to replace the chief surgeon at his hospital due to the latter suffering from sciatica. Although the town had several hotels, Tomas happened to end up at the one where Tereza was employed. He also happened to have enough time to kill before his train was due to depart, thus dropping by the restaurant where Tereza worked to have something to eat. Tereza happened to be working on that night and also happened to be serving Tomas' table.

The trivia game 'Six Degrees of Kevin Bacon' states that any actor can be linked through their film roles to the Hollywood star.

The Roman street system, based on the 'all roads lead to Rome' principle, aims at establishing a symmetrical system whereby most main avenues and roads will lead to a main point, easily recognisable to the motorist, pedestrian or cyclist.

Now, tell that to a Londoner.

Whereas in Havana most main streets will lead to El Malecón (seawall), based mainly on this Roman system adopted in most European countries and some in Latin America, in London, on the other hand, the road system seems to have been concocted to confuse the foreigner. Take the wrong turning and rather than heading for south London you'll end up in Canary Wharf in the eastern part of the city. Forget to check the A-Z before you set off and you will be contemplating endless one-way streets, multiple cul-de-sacs and mind-blowing round-abouts that will drive you nuts. What is it that makes it so hard to drive in London? The answer is that this city is the result of the union of two cities. So you can imagine how huge it is. And this aspect also renders London a marvellous place to drive in, contradictorily. Because when you do get it right, use your A-Z and as many shortcuts and back streets as you possibly can, you will end up with a succession of 'coincidences' like the ones featured in Kundera's novel and Bacon's game that will make your journey a pleasant and satisfying experience.

Music is like that sometimes. Certain artists' oeuvre can be analysed through the musicians they collaborate with, pretty much à la Bacon. The result is as eye-catching and stimulating as Tomas and Tereza's 'six coincidences.

For instance, Al Di Meola is an acoustic guitarist who has played with some of the greater performers ever. One of them was Paco de Lucia. Paco de Lucia has shared the stage with many musicians, one of them Larry Coryell, the brilliant jazz fusion guitarist. Larry Coryell has collaborated with people like Miles Davies, who used John McLoughlin's services on his album 'In A Silent Way'. John Mc Loughlin has played alongside Al Di Meola occasionally. We come back full circle.

And we also come to the end of the road this week. Or musical road I should say. The only reason why Tomas and Tereza died together was because six fortuitous incidents linked their lives forever. Kevin Bacon continues to be an extraordinary actor, 'six degrees' theory notwithstanding, most main roads, at least in Havana, still lead to Rome, or El Malecón for that matter, and in London, sometimes streets will not drive you round the bend, because you will happen to find the important left turning before it is too late.

Copyright 2008