First: 'hey there, how's it going in here?'. Yes, because this is my first review on this site. And I don't think it will be the last. So, if you don't like what I write and how I write it, feel free to ban me, erase me, delete me, or whatever the hell you tech nerds come up with to express your joy of living your wonderful fifteen years.
But what was I supposed to talk about? Ah, yes, Doo Bop. Well, certainly not the best Miles ever, for sure. If you really wanted a suggestion, for the best Miles ever (and I believe I have the right to speak on the matter), I would throw out My Funny Valentine from the Columbia Concert. A jewel and a mystery. Well, no point in hiding it any longer, those who know me usually call me Doctor Divago, and I don't think you'll struggle to understand why.
Doo Bop? Just one thing. It's an album I talked about before knowing it existed. And extensively. How many times have I tried to explain Miles and said: 'if he were around - today - he would make a hip hop record'. And then, by chance, one day I pick it up and hear Just Dig It That Doo Bop Sound. Cute. There you go.
End of review. At this point, you might say: 'What a b..., seven lines to say something you could have expressed in a single sentence!'. Answer: yes. Goodbye.
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By The Punisher
Davis always refused, almost as if it was an ethical choice, to musically retrace his steps and repeat himself as a caricature of himself.
An album clearly 'sacrilegious' for jazz purists, which became the lowest point in the career of the greatest jazz musician.