Ben Ratliff has a thoughtful response to Miles Davis’ induction into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. In addition to his own commentary, Ratliff reports of a dissenting opinion from an intriguing source. “Ahmet Ertegun, chairman of the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, said in a telephone interview on Friday that as a member of the nominating committee he did not vote for Davis, because he felt that his most significant work had nothing to do with rock.” Here is the NY Times review of the ceremony, which apparently featured Herbie Hancock performing a medley of Davis jams.
Do The Math does not have a strong opinion about whether or not Miles D. should be enshrined in the Cleveland circus, and in fact the phrase “Rock and Roll Hall of Fame” makes us feel a little sleepy. But Ratliff's piece does remind us of the basic paradox of Miles Davis, which is this: the success of Miles Davis records and Davis’ resultant stardom is based on the strength of the musicians he played with, not his own trumpet playing or composing.
From Bags' Groove until Live Evil, Miles specialized in getting the best performances he could from the best musicians he could find: Percy Heath, Kenny Clarke, Thelonious Monk, Sonny Rollins, Milt Jackson, Horace Silver, Red Garland, Paul Chambers, Philly Joe Jones, John Coltrane, Wynton Kelly, Jimmy Cobb, Bill Evans, Cannonball Adderley, George Coleman, Ron Carter, Tony Williams, Wayne Shorter, Herbie Hancock, Chick Corea, Jack DeJohnette, Dave Holland, Keith Jarrett, John McLaughlin, and others.
He was never that interested in being a trumpet star, but instead just wanted the band to sound good. He was the hippest music director in history. He edited and arranged his all-star bands with alert and fearless ears. Before that, he hooked up the best Charlie Parker working band and that dated but audacious curiosity The Birth of The Cool. Although Davis obviously had an ego the size of a planet, he was remarkably egoless on the bandstand, often sacrificing his own comfort as a trumpet player to let his all-star bands do what the music needed to do. This perspective is most dramatically demonstrated on Live at the Plugged Nickel, where Davis sounds quite weak next the rampage of Shorter, Hancock, Carter, and Williams.
(Davis’ trumpet playing is often incredible, of course. Our favorite Davis solos include “Bags' Groove (take 1),” “Bye-Bye Blackbird,” “Sid’s Ahead,” “So What,” the live ’64 “My Funny Valentine,” "Masquelero," the whole disc Sketches Of Spain and plenty of others.)
The minute he stopped having this egoless perspective, his music lost force. During the ‘70’s, he seemed to lose interest in having the best bands and instead concentrated on becoming a rock star personality. By the 1980’s he was making records that ranged from OK to unlistenable. Both Dave and Ethan were at Davis’ last Minneapolis concert in ’90. The drummer wasn’t that good. A Miles Davis gig, and the drummer wasn’t that good? This was impossible.
It is also impossible that Jimmy Cobb and the estates of Paul Chambers, Bill Evans, Wynton Kelly, Cannonball Adderley, and John Coltrane have never gotten any royalties for Kind of Blue, a record that sells something like 5000 copies every week despite being recorded in 1959. They were all each paid something like $180 for the session, and that was all she rote. The jazz tradition really sucks sometimes.
