Miles Davis
We Want Miles

"We want Miles". Yes.  And then the bass sings: dum. dum. dudududumdudududu. Here comes the leader, the shaman, the tormented and incomplete soul, always reaching for new art; what a sound. This is "Miles after the comeback" at 100%, and like it or not, let's not make too much of it: the sound is still there. That red thread connecting "Birth Of The Cool" to "Kind Of Blue," "Sketches Of Spain" to "Miles Smiles," "In A Silent Way" to "Bitches Brew" has not been broken.

Times change, sounds, attitudes, trends, people, characters change, but Miles remains. And so here is "Jean Pierre", among the most famous compositions of the late Davis, which testifies to the artist's current relevance, his belonging to all eras. And here's the aforementioned bass attack, then the drums, the winds, the percussion, and then Mike Stern in a state of grace (to say the least); yes, because the shaman is not alone on stage, he is accompanied by a group of true phenomena: Marcus Miller (electric bass), Mike Stern (electric guitar), Al Foster (drums), Mino Cinelu (percussion), and Bill Evans, who is not the pianist, on sax.

After the cheerful and carefree attack of "Jean Pierre", the group engages in new Davis compositions: "Back Seat Betty", "Fast Track", and "Kix", as well as a (still respectful) reinterpretation of "My Man's Gone Now". The tracks are very long; only the second performance of "Jean Pierre" (who knows why they play it twice... mysteries that we mere mortals will never be able to clarify) lasts less than 4 minutes, then they range from 8 to 20 minutes. It almost seems that the group doesn't really want to finish these tracks. And why should they, after all? The band works perfectly, the feeling is there, the fun is so evident it's almost palpable.

This, in fact, is the main quality of this album: the group was having fun on that stage, you can really feel it. There's something in the contrast between the ethereal and desperate sounds of Miles and Bill's winds and Miller's earthy bass that makes you say: they're having fun. You don't know what it is: it's the magic of music, probably. The extraordinariness of six people playing because they love to do it. They could show you how good they are with bursts of notes that John Petrucci can only dream of, but they don't. Even during Mike Stern's fast solos, you never get the feeling of mere showmanship. And this is because Miles, and all the others with him, know that it's not necessary to play avalanches of notes if you can move people with just one.

This doesn't mean that the skill of the musicians doesn't come through in these recordings; on the contrary, it's even more evident and clear-cut precisely because it's combined with taste and class. Knowing how to stop at the right moment, increasing the rhythm then stretching it again: this up and down of emotions is what the album gives us. When you reach the end of this record, you're out of breath, and your heart beats fast, because music, like love and life, is an elusive thing, but one whose call and need we feel, and when there are those who satisfy this need in this way, well, you can only keep exclaiming, now more than ever: "We Want Miles!".