dsalva

oh yes!

no lynching, just hanging from the tallest lamppost!

and instead, it's fine like this... if you don't like it, it's not an obligation :-)

Try listening to it when you have a fever of 38-39 degrees.

What lynching?! I agree.

I would rather lose my ears and sanity listening to Broetzmann for 10 hours straight.

@[Carlos] . you like to subject yourself to the Ludovico treatment, huh? D)

Try to listen to it.

Here comes the joke of the day!

How well I understand you!

I apologize, I am a degustibusiano, but something irrational compels me to defend the loves that have been such at first sight.

So just put Bel and that's it!

But the definition isn't good for me!

damn, put on a good listen then

For me, it's the coolest record in the Universe or almost. But it's very difficult, very strange. Hard to digest. Have you tried the Jazz-Funk Milesian orgy of "On the Corner"? That should be better.

As far as I'm concerned (assuming it matters to you): I don't want to make a critique claiming it to be a perspective that is neutral and objectively shareable by everyone, but I want to respond to some things that have been said. Often, those who claim not to appreciate Bitches Brew say they don’t understand it or that it is not very accessible or that it's "difficult to digest," as Hj put it. For me, it’s none of those things, and I still don’t appreciate it. I can’t even appreciate it as an album that, according to many, unites different continents or worlds. Long before this attempt, jazz had already embraced the idea of a "return to origins," etc... etc... and it did so with daring experiments that echoed in Europe, from which certain NY jazz musicians have also drawn. So as far as I'm concerned, it’s not even a new experiment. What’s new is the union with the world of "rock," but I see it in a purely negative and naïve sense. It feels like a sellout to me, but at the same time, it seems that in order to continue making avant-garde jazz, a new standard is being created that, however, in the reality of the album itself, doesn't really lead anywhere. It doesn’t genuinely set a direction, a path and it seems to simply bask in this new sound, this new guise that has been given to the genre.

I don't mean to say that you who love it don't understand a thing. I mean this is my impression. I know that "it doesn't really go anywhere" sounds like a sterile critique. But I’m someone who loves free jazz, even the most extreme forms, in which many can feel that there's no direction. But in free jazz, as you know better than I do, what counts can be the immense, eternal sequence and/or layering of sounds/moods/emotions/images when not the "simple" and honest attempt at musical development (it's hard, for example, to define "emotional" Unit Structures, but such a record has never been heard and truly pointed to a new way of playing, just listen). In Bitches Brew, however, I sense too much "cleverness" and in fact, I don't see where the novelty lies, in the concrete of the music that is. At this point, you could list 10 million fusion records (which I surely haven't heard because I don't like the genre, for the same reasons as Bitches, but definitely more focused regarding the devaluation of jazz) to show me that influence and a new course has been charted. But compared to what came before, was it really so?! Even in the broader "fusion" category, Don Ellis certainly didn't hold back, and with his sometimes playful, if not simply vintage style, he made great use of what non-jazz contemporary music offered him. Electric Bath is two or three years before Bitches, I think (I should check), and although it's less pretentious, incredibly more accessible, easy, and in a certain sense classic (despite the innovations brought), I still find it more honest and unique. I hope I've made myself clear.

PS: maybe I really didn’t understand a damn thing, huh, but this is what I feel, both literally and emotionally and “instinctively,” when I listen to it.

I don't believe there are many cezz records prior to this one that have unleashed a cut-and-paste artistry similar in the studio, not to mention paired with impeccable mini improvisations by impeccable mega musicians (here I sense more genius and commitment than cleverness). As for the jazz that gets intertwined with rock, I don't think it's particularly sensible to emphasize that; Messer Miles had already electrified and defibrillated for a little while, just like other great folks in those surrounding years. I wouldn't even mention free jazz; the big man, as we know, didn't get along with it, and as far as I'm concerned, I would leave the term fusion out too. I see this work as an experiment that doesn't resemble anything else, and while it is an extremely cerebral piece, to my ears it sounds like primordial music. But I'd rather eclipse the various ramblings; this was love at first sight for me. Describing it doesn't satisfy me, but even though I wasn't grounded at the time, I’m sure it couldn't have been a gentle and easy impact for music. BUT: each one is each one.

"I don't think there are many Cezz albums prior to this one that have unleashed such a cut-and-paste artistry in the studio, coupled with impeccable mini improvisations from impeccable mega musicians." I agree, but for me there’s more cleverness than genius involved. It feels more like a pop-rock band approach than a jazz artist. I understand you don’t want to describe it, but I believe that “rock that's screwing jazz” (I see it the other way around) is something worth emphasizing. Some may like it, but not me. And honestly, who cares if Miles didn't like free jazz? Free jazz, as far as I'm concerned, is really what removed every "soft and easy impact on music," to paraphrase your words. Then you say you’re not fond of the term "fusion," but without this album, it probably wouldn't exist as we know it at least. In short, I would prefer if someone among you, instead of defending this giant of music—as you just did by proclaiming your love at first listen—could offer me a perspective/listening approach that goes beyond what I've listed, if it exists, assuming you are aware of it or that it comes to you immediately (the latter being a situation that doesn’t happen for me).

Identifying musicians like those chosen by the big guy, setting up two to three-minute improvisations in one or more half-hour jams collage resonates with me as a pantagruelian task (microprocessors didn’t even exist), and if it makes you cringe HOW it sounds, that’s perfectly fine, but I don't understand the pop-rock band approach you’re referring to. I associate the art of cut and paste more with the worlds of rap or electronic music, honestly; what do you perceive as pop here? Pop in what sense, specifically? I hear people jamming out in acid on their psychedelic excursions, and that’s the only rock thing I can get them to wear, apart from the baby electric guitar of young John McLaughlin and the occasional rhythms that don’t make the listening experience feel almost abstract. And yes, I exclude the term fusion because I’m not writing to you from May ‘71, and I find it extremely distant from the current connotations of the term (nowadays it aligns more with stuff done by those who do psychedelia than jazz) compared to other discobolus that precede this (like Frank Zappa’s Hot Rats or Miles Davis's In a Silent Way). I agree that fusion wouldn’t be the same after this as we know it, but in a substantial fusion record from the following years, you could certainly find a young lad who would have played here. You brought up free jazz; in my opinion, it doesn’t fit and I’ve reiterated that this is an album made mainly of long studio works, not of naked, crude, disarticulated, and erudite atonal scales and twists. It's a completely different approach, a different revolution. I’m not trying to defend something; instead, I want to highlight where I believe the musical greatness lies within this that you deny. The question of understanding it or not doesn’t belong to me; I probably don’t understand it either, even though I’ve revered it for ages (“understand,” but what does that mean in music?). Anyway, I wouldn’t know what to do with assorted technical wankery; the key to reading/listening that I can offer you is a dive into worked, whipped, and assembled improvisations like few times one could ever hear. Ah, all this because I found nothing of the fundamental typical features of this record in your description; in your lines, I only read about a jazz musician who cleverly mixed rock into his music, when it’s as clear as a karst spring that this record did NOT invent fusion.

Well, one thing is to respond to what I write, and another is to make up what I write. No one has defined pop-rock (a non-genre into which everything that comes from the rock of the '50s is generally put, at least in part) Bitches Brew. The idea is that all these studio processes, etc., etc., were not entirely unknown to the rock world of the '60s, and that's why I defined it that way. What seems to you like a Copernican revolution doesn't seem like much to me, simply put. Even more simply: not a reason to jump out of my seat. Then: no one said it invented fusion. In my earlier analysis, I mentioned it to prevent any kind of criticism that could be directed at me regarding my not-so-positive analysis of the album. Doesn't it concern you?! Who cares. I threw out the idea, but who the hell knows who responds?! And then: did I say that free jazz has anything to do with it?! I don’t think so. I brought it up to highlight what I genuinely think traces a new musical path leading to something and used it to differentiate it from the "attitude" that I find in Bitches Brew. What my ears find in Bitches Brew! Moreover, I asked: "a key of interpretation/listening that goes beyond what I listed—don’t convince me," and you replied: "the key of interpretation/listening I would give you is a dive into worked, whipped, and assembled improvisations like few times I think you can hear." which is EXACTLY what I don't like, and I've reiterated that over the last three comments. Much more than I have said: Bitches Brew is a sellout of the genre. Something I only have an impression of (and I've said that too, but I don't know; it seems you don't read me) as I mentioned, and that impression comes from other musical considerations that I have already expressed. I asked (to you because I'm talking to you, but also to others) ONE thing, with certain conditions, sure that's fine, and you actually didn’t respond.

Understanding Carlos's speech up until the question of the more pop than jazz approach is indeed clear — I simply think it was the audience that determined its success rather than Miles winking at something specific. After all, in '69 this wasn't precisely the most immediate way to achieve ecumenical feedback, especially coming off of In a Silent Way. Because, in fact, what Bitches Brew really is isn’t very clear. Miles himself would tell the (real) musicians to press the keys where their fingers wouldn’t instinctively go, and I doubt that this is a precise direction.

However, it seems more like mythology than reality to me, because if you listen, it's a much more schematic record than it might appear. It all starts from a basic geometry of bass, and from there layers are overlapped. That's all there is to it.

@[Lao Tze] Thank goodness someone partially understands me. Just to avoid misunderstandings, I repeat: when I said pop, I didn’t mean the Bitols bagai, I want that to be clear. And anyway, I don’t quite agree: “in '69 that wasn’t exactly the most immediate way to get an ecumenical response.” In short, the free form freaks and stucazz had their golden period in the late sixties and received a response from rock enthusiasts that was mass and universally acknowledged, you know. Just think of the famous festivals from those years. Since jazz wasn’t really music that had an ecumenical response, especially in those years when intellectualism was rampant, I’d say that, as a discourse, it CAN make some sense. I’m not saying it was like that, but personally, I had that impression. It seems to me like: let’s do what today’s psychedelics do, but with jazz. That’s how it sounds to me. And if I have to give my opinion: it doesn’t seem like such a big deal, I repeat. When I talk about wanting a key to appreciate it: I’m talking about a perspective to cling to in order to truly feel it as “new,” forward, and unique, as many have claimed to feel it at the time and as many say it was and is today. Do you understand?

To give another example of a record that came shortly after and features two of the bitchesbrewian musicians: Afternoon of A Georgia Faun by Marion Brown. The title track is practically almost ambient and is truly a very beautiful and captivating musical watercolor. And it's made without a basis of "rock-funk etc.." upon which to create an atmospheric music. For this reason, it seems more genuine to me. It seems to disregard everything else. While Bitches feels like a melting pot of stuff that, rather than sounding eclectic, leaves me skeptical.

@Carlos: I like that the association of Free with Bitches has emerged more or less voluntarily... Miles, as we know, has always been competitive, and when he couldn’t do something because he didn’t like it, he loved to respond in his own way. Coupled with his always insatiable desire for change, and adding the influence that certain Rock (and not) had on him, in Bitches you find the roaring psychedelia of Hendrix, the groove of James Brown and Sly & the Family, and summing all this up while keeping an eye on the pre-Bitches, you’ll notice that this album was already in embryo with earlier works that evoked the moods of other continents, like Filles, Nefertiti, and the very last acoustic quintet of Sorcer/Miles Smiles in the metrics. Add the electricity of Silent and here’s Bitches.
Miles on this album featured 2 keyboardists, 1 overflowing feedback guitarist, and various percussionists in addition to the canonical instruments; he practically doubled Coleman’s Free Jazz, where there is a geometric approach in the patterns right from the start, but immediately after, every musician is completely unleashed without needing to respect any boundaries. It’s the triumph of primordial chaos aimed at an undisciplined freedom of expression (in a good sense, of course). Here, however, the musicians start from inputs, an abstract idea, they follow it, overlap, chase and drift apart, playing games of "give and take," but Miles is always there as a bandleader, subtly bringing everything back to order when he senses the beast is about to slip out of his hands. It’s the order of chaos, in short.
As for the cleverness discussion, well... he presented an album full of dissonances, layered polyphonies, and various rhythmic roughness, creating a cascade of nuanced, accented, percussive, punctuated, and evocative sounds. Listening to Bitches feels like diving into a jungle with all the flora and fauna crashing down on you... for this reason, I see no cleverness; if there was any, I see it as an attempt made in the most labyrinthine and audacious way.
Since Bitches has many offspring, I would notice a bit of cleverness (but at a high level) in Les McCann and his Invitation to Openness, where there, besides having less depth, there’s a constant/magical/fawning groove and a total elimination of any sonic roughness, or the Red Clay by Hubbard, indecisive between Silent Way and Bitches, or even Don Cherry’s Brown Rice, more gypsy but less rough and wild than Bitches.
In fact, I want to make a bold statement: you will find Bitches in some German things with certain tribal polyrhythms at certain moments of Tago Mago by Can, and in some evocative abstractions of Embryo.
I agree with you about Don Ellis and his Electric Bath; he arrived earlier... and he did it with great class, but even though the discussion was broader, it was more circumscribed in terms of moods; however, let me say, who cares who arrives first in music, in the end, it’s not the Olympics :-).

Hey doc, but don’t start barking, I’m peacefully minding my own business and I don’t want to dissect things to see who can spit the farthest. I’ve included in the discussion things that you haven't highlighted, crashing down like a meteorite in the definition of an album that needs them because with those it creates its singularity in the music it belongs to, starting from the type of studio treatment that you define as akin to pop-rock. I’m not used to reading panegyrics about computer stuff because I don’t spend much time on it, I ask for a bit of calm, good sir. You quote and inflate impressions written by me as if there should be animosity, when have I ever said that you define it as pop-rock? If anything, I’ve written that you relate it as an approach. Certain studio work may not have been unknown to the world of rock (an example is needed, you provide it), but we’re talking about a jazz album! Now I simply tell you that it astonishes me that you don’t see anything remarkable in a work that I consider immense in terms of technique and conception regarding means and the year. Anyway, it’s totally fine for you to see/hear it differently, we won’t love each other any less for it. But if you don’t see the embrace of various external influences in a genre, how can you see the progression of music? I mean, why bring up attracting listeners to create a broader spectrum of little people and not consider that MAYBE Miles was simply passionate about certain aspects of rock? He was alone, he had to grab young and innocent kids for his ideas (for me) still innocent, and yes I see this as a courageous step. PS if I knew you better I might have known that mixing-editing isn’t your thing, and fair enough, I wouldn’t have directly proposed the album as such, maybe I would have presented it to you as a psychedelic bomb. All in all, I ask where the new paths traced by free jazz and the paths traced by the dog’s broth lead, just for a casual chat and to compare who has spread more seeds (ganja or not). And anyway, here we smile with the coroner in our headphones, cheers.

With order from the bottom. @[ziltoid]: 1. "Pop in what sense, especially?" That was the question that left me dumbfounded and made me believe I hadn’t understood what I wanted to say. Anyway, I explained myself, and whatever. 2. Get to the point that finally interests me: "if I had known you, maybe I would have known that mixing-editing doesn’t appeal to you and good, I wouldn’t have proposed the record to you as such, maybe I would have presented it as a psychedelic bomb." The problem is that both aspects leave me puzzled. Regarding the second aspect, I just wrote in the comment to Lao Tze why I don’t like it; if you want, have a look and it doesn't really answer your question "why... not consider that maybe Miles simply became passionate about certain facets of rock?". As for the first aspect, the meticulous and important work of production in the record makes me uneasy because I link it to the pop-rock realm, yes. It's not like Macero invented cutting and pasting, let that be clear. Certain things Wilson did, just to mention one, are there to prove it. The point is that for you it matters that it’s done in a jazz record. For me, it’s something that makes it less significant, on the contrary. 3. And now that I've told you that I can't appreciate it either as a psychedelic bomb or as mixing-editing, etc... I can't even appreciate it from the perspective that @[zappp] considers when he states "he presented a record full of dissonances, layered polyphonies, and the most disparate rhythmic roughness, creating a cascade of muted, accented, percussive, punctuated, and evocative sounds; listening to Bitches feels like immersing oneself in the jungle with all the flora and fauna falling on you" because, as I’ve already mentioned, looking towards the black continent and Europe (and vice versa) was not new at the time. And so 5. It’s true that we’re not at the Olympics where it’s not just about coming in first, and thus these considerations don’t really describe why I don't like Bitches Brew, given that I listen to a ton of derivative stuff (much more than Bitches could be, assuming it really is) that I like a lot. The reason can perhaps be summed up in a concise phrase I already wrote in my first comment: "that to still make avant-garde jazz, a new standard should be created which, however, in the concrete nature of the record itself, doesn’t really go anywhere. It doesn't truly set a direction, a path; it simply seems to revel in this new sound, this new guise that the genre has taken." In summary, this is it, beyond all the considerations that have been brought up in many aspects (see free jazz, fusion, mixing-editing, psychedelia, etc... etc...). And so we return to my question, which is actually a sign of openness towards this record. 6. From what angle can I approach it so that it doesn’t come off as a sterile record that is self-serving?

I got lost with the numbers. There are 5. But I didn't feel like rereading this stuff, forgive me ;-)

Carlos, for me, the discourse is the opposite of "in order to make avant-garde jazz, a new standard should be created which, however, in the concreteness of the album itself, doesn't really go anywhere." Bitches is like a market where you can find everything, from food to clothing to memorabilia. It’s up to the artist or the eager listener to draw from that music and quench their thirst for what they need. If the person is also a musician, they can then follow an idea of that music, personalizing it to pass down to those who come after.

In Bitches, there’s a complete, exhaustive, and in-depth summary of what was going on at that moment (looking back), blended in a forward-looking way (looking ahead), a palette of colors where the painter shows you all existing colors in one go. It will then be up to you to know how to mix them in a personal way (I’m repeating myself by using metaphors, forgive me). For this reason, Bitches might be the exact opposite of sterility, but rather a massive quantity of ideas at risk of overdose or artistic heart attack in the attempt to absorb them all.

However, and unfortunately, I can't suggest from which angle to approach it if it comes across so sterile to you after so many listens. I tried to express my opinion (which is highly debatable, although I won't change my mind here) unconsciously trying to convince you, even though I didn't mean to, because when it comes to forms of art, I always believe that everyone should arrive there on their own.

I think we agree more on Federer D)

Uh good Carloz, I get it, you know, I see the whole rigmarole behind the recording as a sign of a composition worthy of applause with four hands, and even if in a less orthodox way, it is also about moving notes back and forth. But what makes me want to listen to it is certainly not these reasons; up to this point I can say, "wow, great record," but if I place it among my discoboli, it's a matter of production in terms of sound and a simple approach to me. And now I'm hungry for Live/Evil though.

@[zappp] I understand that you see everything in it. In some ways, I do too, but as I wrote earlier: "it seems to me a jumble of things that, rather than sounding eclectic, leaves me skeptical." Where it hasn't been sterile, it has influenced stuff that I don't care for, even if in hindsight, in the field of HOWEVER NOT JAZZ I owe something to it for a love (Jon Hassell?) ;-)) Maybe it's just that I'm not made for this album since I like other "musical frescoes" in jazz, like the one by Marion Brown that I mentioned earlier. @[ziltoid] I'm going back to something else because, after talking so much about it, I've found my desire for jazz again: Contours by Sam Rivers ;-D Thanks anyway to everyone for the whole thing. I've spent years thinking: maybe I'm just not getting something. But I see that even the responses from enthusiasts like you have brought up things that weren't unknown to me and that I've thought about anyway.

Thank you, Carlos, it was a great conversation!

Wow, what a hornet's nest I stirred up with this listen!!... I won't respond, as I feel I am not worthy of you esteemed connoisseurs of the work and of Davies. I take note of the many insights from your discussion. Thank you.

What a hornet's nest! If only there were one opportunity a day like this to discuss music in depth...

The original title was "Double Helix Polynucleotide Chains," perhaps suggested by the husband who is a doctor. But record labels are seldom visionary.

"few things worthy of note in the midst of filthy nonsense" which is a bit of a summary of his musical career from what I've heard (apart from obviously the fabulous voice)

Absolutely snobbish and unpleasant character.