Miles Davis
Someday My Prince Will Come

Imagine being in a group with Coltrane and helplessly watching him depart for individual projects. It couldn't have been easy for Miles. Unable to get the desired Wayne Shorter, who was busy with the Jazz Messengers, Miles settled for the ex-Messenger Hank Mobley. It's unfortunate to use the verb "settle" regarding an excellent musician like Mobley, but this is the story.

Fascinated by a version of Bill Evans' trio, Davis starts playing "Someday My Prince Will Come" (from the soundtrack of "Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs"), a very lyrical composition that opens with the ostinato bass of Paul Chambers over which the chords of Wynton Kelly weave in (this is the only studio album of Miles Davis where the pianist plays on every track), and only now does the trumpet enter: a perfect theme for the leader, who expresses all his art, as he does later in the solo. The dynamics increase, walking bass, and here is Mobley's debut: a solo also very lyrical in this case, with the theme always well-present. And then? Then there's Trane's solo. But hadn't he left! Oh yes, but sometimes they come back. Coltrane happened to be in the studio during the recording and Miles invited him to play after Mobley: no decision in the world was more fortuitous! Melodic solo, lyrical yes, but lyrical in his own way, intricate in its simplicity. And beyond the solo itself, there is nothing more useful than this to understand the differences between John and Hank. They are two different musicians, too different to be compared as is too often done. The first is unpredictable, exploring uncharted paths, making new ones himself. The second is certainly less adventurous, but he has a highly developed sense of melody, an ability to hide the theme within his phrases that makes the most famous jazz musicians envious, and enough taste to know what he must play at every moment.

The second piece is the nocturne "Old Folks", and we all know how Miles loves to revel in such atmospheres. Hank revels in it too, and with a beautiful solo, he silences any doubts about his abilities. It's an inventive solo, which reminds me in certain passages of Cannonball Adderley's on "All Blues", and there is no doubt that it is the focal point of the composition. Jazzmen do not live by ballads alone, and "Pfrancing (No Blues)" is a classic hard bop, dedicated to Davis's wife Frances Taylor, who is featured on the cover, and once again Mobley shows what he is made of, proving he can also excel in more rhythmic pieces. Finally, my beloved Paul Chambers arrives with his first solo: but listen to how readily he catches Wynton Kelly's laconic suggestions and evolves a thought, a phrase of his own from them!

Not to bore you with a track-by-track, but if every song on this album is a discourse unto itself, it's certainly not my fault! "Drad-Dog", homage to then Columbia president Goddard (try reading it backward) Lieberson, is a sort of "Blue In Green" no. 2, more rhythmic, with good results but certainly not comparable, even if the solos are notable, especially those of Davis and Kelly. And then there is "Teo", probably one of the many tributes to Teo Macero, I don't know. Hank Mobley is not here, replaced, guess by whom? Indeed, Coltrane. And, believe me, the connection between him and Miles is still perfect, their minds are connected, they dialogue with each other. The leader's solo is beautiful, vaguely Coltrane-like and unmistakably Davisian, true to his poetics, sparse in notes and rich in meaning and feeling. The album concludes with the standard "I Thought About You", perhaps the least interesting piece on the album, full of melody and passion from the entire quintet but adding nothing new to the narrative. Here, Davis indulges in long solo spaces, with only a brief sax intervention midway through the piece. The reissue also features "Blues No.2", featuring another reunion, that between Davis and Philly Joe Jones, who temporarily replaces Jimmy Cobb (for more information, see the review of "Circle In The Round" where it was originally published) and an alternate take of the title track, with a fine solo by Kelly.

Let me conclude by saying that "Someday My Prince Will Come" (1961) may not be among Miles's best albums, but it is a great album played by great musicians who certainly knew well what to play and what not to play, and above all when. Moreover, it is also in some way a historic album, containing the last recordings of Miles Davis with John Coltrane and Philly Joe Jones, and being the only studio album with Hank Mobley and the only one entirely with Wynton Kelly.

I have never dedicated a review to anyone, it seems a bit excessive to me, but this time I will exaggerate and dedicate it to Hank Mobley (1930-1986) and to voodoomiles, who requested it from me too many months ago.