The 500 - #95 - Bitches Brew - Miles Davis

I was inspired by a podcast called The 500 hosted by New York-based comedian Josh Adam Meyers. His goal, and mine, is to explore Rolling Stone Magazine's 2012 edition of The 500 Greatest Albums of All Time.

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Album: #95

Album Title: Bitches Brew

Artist: Miles Davis

Genre: Jazz Fusion, Psychedelic Jazz, Avant-Garde. Jazz Rock

Recorded: 52 Street Studios, Manhattan, New York, USA

Released: March, 1970

My age at release: Four

How familiar was I with it before this week: Somewhat

Is it on the 2020 list? Yes, at #87 - rising Eight spots

Song I am putting on my Spotify Playlist: Pharoah's Dance

I took music all the way through high school and played with the school band every year, except one. Looking back, I probably didn't practise as much as I should have, and I certainly didn't take every lesson as seriously as I wish I had.

Still, I was a competent enough saxophone player to earn passing grades and survive recitals, concerts and exams. I also have music teacher Mr. Gwyn Beynon to thank for not booting me from class or band when my teen-age brain seemed hell bent on giving him a good reason to do so on a seemingly monthly basis.

Gwyn Beynon is now the Conductor Emeritus with the London, 
Ontario based Encore Concert Band. 

If I could go back, though, I wouldn't just spend more time in the practice room, I'd spend more time paying attention in music theory classes.

At the time, theory class felt a lot like math class. Which makes sense, music is math. It is patterns, relationships and structures. Unfortunately, teen-age me had already decided that I wasn't really a "math person," so I approached music theory with the same lack of enthusiasm that I brought to algebra.

Today, as a middle school teacher, that's exactly the mindset I try to instill in my students. I task them to see themselves as mathematicians. Understanding mathematical concepts isn't about being born with some special gift. It's about focus, time, practise and, most importantly, believing you are capable of learning difficult things.

I vaguely remember the lessons on the church modes from my Grade 13 year at Beal Secondary School. The church modes are seven musical scales derived from the notes of a major scale. Instead of always starting and ending on the first note of the scale, each mode begins on a different note, creating its own unique sound and mood. Long before they became important in jazz, these modes were used in church music during the Middle Ages, which is where they get their name. They are Ionian (major), Dorian, Phrygian, Lydian, Mixolydian, Aeolian (natural minor) and Locrian, most easily remembered by the mnemonic I Don't Play Loud Music At Lunch.

I remember trying to memorize them. I remember writing them out. I remember learning just enough about them in order to pass a quiz and then...promptly forgetting them. At the time, with a head full of teen-age social anxieties and unrequited crushes, I simply didn't think they mattered.

Now, decades later, I realize those modes are essential in understanding jazz, especially the music of Miles Davis. I know enough to appreciate that fact, but I also believe that if I were to take music theory again, perhaps in retirement, a much deeper level of understanding awaits.

Which brings me to Bitches Brew.

Released in 1970, Bitches Brew arrived at a time when Miles Davis was determined to push jazz in a new direction. Rock music was dominating popular culture. Younger listeners were embracing electric guitars, amplified instruments, and more experimental forms of entertainment. Davis had already begun moving away from traditional jazz structures with albums such as In a Silent Way. However, it was Bitches Brew that blew the doors off.

Album cover for In A Silent Way, a CD I purchased during my
"I want to understand jazz" phase in the late 80s.

The recording sessions were unlike most jazz albums that had come before. Rather than bringing fully written compositions into the studio, Davis often arrived with sketches, bass lines and, of course, modal frameworks paired with simple instructions. He assembled an astonishing cast of musicians, including Wayne Shorter, Joe Zawinul, Chick Corea, John McLaughlin, Larry Young, Jack DeJohnette, Dave Holland, and Bennie Maupin. What emerged was part jazz, part rock and part improvisation.

Musicians credited on Bitches Brew.

For listeners expecting catchy melodies and familiar chord progressions, Bitches Brew can be a challenging experience. Many of the pieces stretch beyond 20 minutes. The music often feels less like a collection of songs and more like a landscape. Instead of moving quickly through traditional chord changes, the musicians frequently explored modes, textures, rhythms and moods for extended periods of time.

That is where those old theory lessons come back to haunt me.

While listening to tracks, such as  Pharaoh's Dance, Bitches Brew, Spanish Key and Miles Runs the Voodoo Down,  I can detect a different musical language by recognizing some of the vocabulary. I understand enough to know that the modal ideas I encountered in high school are playing an important role. And I am also aware there's a deeper conversation happening just beyond my knowledge.

Miles Davis, in his trademark trumpet pose, recording Bitches Brew.

Maybe that's one reason why this album remains fascinating more than 50 years after its release. Like a difficult book or a demanding film, it reveals a little more at each re-listen.

Fortunately, I'll be visiting friends at their cottage in a week. Their teenage son, Mitchell, is a talented guitarist who recently took up jazz. Perhaps I can pick his brain for the insights that eluded me in those music classes 40-plus years ago.