Miles Davis and the Modern Jazz Giants (1958)

Miles Davis and the Modern Jazz Giants is one of my favorite jazz albums. I'm a big fan of most Prestige releases but this one is especially enjoyable. It is positively brimming with musical excitement and high quality performances make it an easy candidate for repeat listening. The tracks are culled from a session recorded Christmas Eve, 1954 by the inimitable Rudy Van Gelder. It's an impressive roster by any measure: Milt Jackson on vibes, Percy Heath on bass, Thelonious Monk on piano, Kenny Clarke on drums and of course Miles playing the horn. "Round Midnight" is odd man out, recorded in 1956 by the same lineup heard on Steamin'. If you're at all familiar with the various groups led by Davis in the 1950s, then this misfit should stick out like a sore lip. The feel is completely different, and the personalities don't bounce off each other the same way. It's an awesome take, and any take with Coltrane is a bonus in my book, but it's obviously a different band and it just doesn't sound anything like the rest of the album.

The sheer chemistry is what jumps out at me most. There is tangible musical evidence of the friction caused by Monk working under Davis' direction. Monk didn't like being told to lay out during Miles' solos, and so when he takes one of his own, he really lets you know he's there. The result is a pleasing musical tension that spins topsy-turvy somewhere between mood and mechanics.  There are few pianists who understand rhythm and dissonance like Monk, and his penchant for playing the perfectly wrong note in the perfectly right spot is maximized here. Phrases of Monk's sparse, single note solos hang across the bars, as if to be completed at a later date, creating time within time. Through such economy, the impact of his absence is even stronger and the tunes acquire a presence that is felt as much as heard. The album isn't all Monk, I just mention him because his work is notable. Really, if there's one standout star then it's Milt Jackson on the vibes. Jackson provides the fabric for the whole album, smoothing it over like sand filling in fault lines, providing both body and character. At times, his licks seem to intervene between Monk and Davis, and tie the arrangements together like string. Meanwhile, Clarke and Heath are a rock, their interplay with soloists and solid timekeeping during heads propelling the music in interesting new directions. Not to be forgotten, Miles' tone on the horn is characteristically creamy and his solos are filled with chilled out, mid-register phrases that smolder in their simplicity. By not flying up the scales or playing successive double-time runs, Davis maintains a consistent atmosphere that focuses his ideas and swells the music with controlled intensity. Hours after listening, the strains ring in my ears and I have to put it on again. It's almost addictive. Almost. If Kind of Blue was missing and I had to choose one album to serve as a new listener's introduction to jazz, this very well might be it. So do yourself a favor, hunt down a copy. The CD reissue by Original Jazz Classics is an excellent alternative to the original LP.

Curious? Want some more? Have a gander at MilesDavis.com

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