Miles Davis
At Fillmore East

MILES DAVIS - "AT FILMORE EAST"

In the beginning, there is chaos, in the beginning there is a true bacchanal, then comes the saving trumpet of the electric shaman and everything falls back into place.

The record in question is a collection of live performances from 1970, recorded in New York and produced by the gray eminence that is Teo Macero, and it is an album built on the game of presence/absence of Miles Davis' trumpet within a very complex musical structure.

The album quite accurately reflects the charismatic and contradictory personality of Miles Davis who continuously plays on a  bipolarity that pervades the entire work; indeed, when Miles doesn't play, one gets the impression of witnessing a musical orgy: the notes emerging from Chick Corea's and Keith Jarrett's keyboards are wild shards, Jack DeJohnette plays like a madman, and Dave Holland tries to maintain some discipline, there are those who shout and someone even spurs on with a whistle...the atmosphere is overheated, the sound vortex is at its peak... and then...

and then he arrives...a few notes on his trumpet, not yet (thankfully) electrified, and it's as if the chaotic and anarchic sound converged to a single point, as if the musicians stood at attention to hear what other orders the leader must give...because this is indeed a musical preacher risen on the pulpit directing the path to follow.

The drums calm, the keyboards realign, and a pure crystalline sound emerges, sound almost in its pure state because it matters very little whether "directions", "the mask" or "bitches brew" are being played, in fact, the tracks aren't important here but rather the sound of the band; it's as if it were a single circular improvisation without a beginning or an end, you plunge into the heart of Davis' electric quest, distant both from the esoteric journeys with a vaguely hippie flavor of "in a silent way", and from the rhythms of that jazz-funk cauldron which is "on the corner"; the trumpet is still bare and master of the highest registers, expanding spaces, creating cuts like Fontana's Cuts, and then suddenly quickens the pace and here the bacchanal begins anew... 

The musical lineup is nothing short of stratospheric; obviously Davis on trumpet, then Grossman on soprano, Jarrett and Corea quarreling among themselves on keyboards, Holland on electric bass, DeJohnette and Moreira on percussion. The band is unusual because of the noticeable absence of the electric guitar which has always been included in Miles' electric records.

In my opinion, Davis' discography has left us with memorable recordings of drummers, saxophonists, pianists, but ultimately I believe that from a guitaristic point of view it is somewhat lacking and that this "reduced" lineup produces a sound more concentrated, more concise, and more vital compared to what can be heard for example in "live-evil" or "get up with it"; and personally, I would have liked to hear a studio LP from this group perhaps with an even more essential formation, like without Moreira and maybe with Davis as the sole wind...but I digress...

So, why listen to this LP?

We listen to this LP because, if one accepts the challenge posed by Miles and understands (it's not one of the easiest albums) the subtlety of the game supporting it all, a pleasure that renews itself with each re-listening is experienced, much like in his most celebrated masterpieces, and because perhaps it is, chronologically, the last truly creative testimony of the genius that is Miles Davis.