From an eight-part series about my key creative influences between the ages of 14 through 29, arguably the years when the foundation of one’s artistic point of view is established.
I played guitar with musician friends who were as into contemporary jazz as I was, and all roads eventually led to Miles Davis.
[Listen to “Right Off” from Jack Johnson (1971). Good lord. “one of the most remarkable jazz rock discs of the era.” – John Fordham]
Kind of Blue and In a Silent Way and Bitches Brew were constantly on the turntable. I approached guitar like I was in his band.
“The thing to judge in any jazz artist,” said Miles, “is does the man project and does he have ideas.” I felt this was true of everything in life.
Barry Ulanov said the sound of Miles Davis was “the sound of a man walking on egg shells.”
Ira Gitler responded by writing, “Miles may be a man walking on egg shells, but he is also a diamond cutting into opaque glass.”
The more you know his music the more these metaphors make sense.
[See “Go Ahead John” from Big Fun (1974). Teo Macero’s recording loops, Miles duetting with himself, John McLaughlin walking on the edge.]
Miles himself could be allusive about his approach to music: “Don’t play what’s there, play what’s not there.” And also: “I’ll play it first and tell you what it is later.”
He changed, constantly, yet the core of his trumpet’s voice was distinctive. “Sometimes you have to play a long time to be able to play like yourself,” he said.
His fierce individualism in the face of hostility was an inspiration. His inability to resist his own demons was an object lesson.
I made films the way Miles led bands. For good or for ill.