Customer Reviews
Yet Another Miles Davis Release Playing The Same Old Stuff
Here, Miles and co. Miles Davis - "Live At The 1963 Monterey Jazz Festival" shows little in the way of a creative setlist. play the same old stuff he's been playing on all the other live releases that Columbia has put out. It's the same setlist over and over. How many times do we have to hear "Autumn Leaves" or "So What"? I'm TIRED of hearing these songs. If you want to hear a better live album pick-up the "Live At The Blackhawk" boxset. Miles has better setlists on those albums.
Unfortunately, as much as I love Miles Davis, Herbie Hancock, Ron Carter, etc. I'm not going to recommend this release to anyone. I have almost everything Miles has ever recorded and I'm not going to even buy this album simply because it resembles the setlists of all his live albums around this time.
All But One Review Give Raves For The Sound Quality
Isn't it amazing when a quality package FAILS to credit the folks who made the recordings?
Wake up, CONCORD and MJFR - when the Amazon reviewers can hear the sound quality for themselves, and go to the effort to mention it, what makes you so shameless as to not make the slightest effort to credit the talented engineers who made these recordings possible?
Shame on YOU!
Don Geis is rolling in his grave.
Absolutely indispensable (shame on Concord for freezing it)
One doesn't know whether to express gratitude to the producers for releasing a recorded event of such historic significance and rare beauty, or outright annoyance at those responsible for sitting on it for all these years. This recording is so fresh and alive sonically and so rich and rewarding musically that forty-five years literally melt away upon hearing it. In any case, it's music that could have been recorded yesterday, assuming a cast like this one could ever be reassembled.
In some respects, this is but yet another example of what is known as Davis' "transition period" (1960-1964) between his "first great quintet," with tenor saxophonist John Coltrane, and "second great quintet," with Wayne Shorter. On this instance, the playing is good enough to make a listener wish the transition had lasted indefinitely. First, there was the fascinating contrast between Davis' free approach and reedman Sonny Stitt's systematic bebop vocabulary, then there was Davis' sophisticated urbanity contrasting with the musky, bluesy, unashamedly soul-baring tenor of Hank Mobley, and here it's the restless and searching Davis vs. the pure, open sound and "singing" approach of tenor saxophonist George Coleman. The fact that the band had been together only several months adds to the freshness and excitement of the performance--perhaps more so than anything that would follow during Miles' "acoustic" period.
On the opening "Autumn Leaves" Davis, on harmon-muted trumpet, conducts a Hamlet-like, alternately meditative and morosely malcontent dialogue with his 23 year-old pianist Herbie Hancock who, quickly reacting to some hints from bassist Ron Carter, provides harmonic substitutions that momentarily reshape the tune's character. At the completion of the trumpeter's turn, Carter and 17 year-old drummer Tony Williams release the ever-mounting tension with a flowing 4/4 time-stream for the linear and lyrical melodic inventions of Coleman, who transforms brooding soliloquy into extroverted aria.
During Coleman's solo, the interplay between Hancock and Williams is worth the listener's undivided attention in itself, as the pair will adapt a motif in the solo to a shared rhythmic pattern, which in turn redirects the soloist's constructions. A similar empathy and serendipitous coupling extend to a way-up-tempo yet strangely serene and flowing version of "So What. "
I've never heard a better interpretation of Victor Young's "Stella by Starlight" ever (and I've heard hundreds). The mysterious lady is seen through prismatic colors, with each soloist drawing an evocative portrait of varied colors and shifting moods, from ethereal and mysterious to teasing and saucy. I doubt if Hancock has ever played more sensitively, clearly living up to the school of thought that associates him with Bill Evans. The blues "Walkin'," taken at another torrid tempo, opens with a Williams' solo that challenges the blues form itself, while Carter goes to a half-time bowed solo that demonstrates the expressive possibilities attainable through the mathematical permutations of tempo.
The overall sound is spacious yet up-close and vibrantly present, while every note is crystal clear, assuring the listener of catching each detail, from Hancock's delicate voicings to Williams' innovative, often surprising punctuations (in fact, the audio makes my CD copy of the later studio session "E. S. P. " sound artificial and limited, the piano unlistenable compared to the one captured on this 1963 date. Moreover, everyone seems uncommonly committed to swinging and inventive melody-making. By the time of the Plugged Nickel sessions the group would play with a more self-conscious, calculated and cerebral approach to melody (don't give it away), harmony (invent the chords as you go) and time (let it shift, speed up and slow down midstream).
For me this is one of the four most important releases of the new milennium, joining "Monk and Coltrane at Carnegie Hall," Clifford Jordan's "Glass Bead Games" and Bill Evans' last, heroic and glorious stand (collected on "Consecration" and "The Last Waltz"). At the very least, I doubt any knowledgeable follower of the music could disagree that this recording is an indispensable addition to one of the most distinguished canons by a major artist in 20th-century music.
. You can see a complete list of all Miles Davis discography, or go back to the Miles Davis tabs
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