b o b

Even though I was already familiar with (and greatly enjoyed) a lot Davis' fusion music when I bought Live-Evil, my first listen to this album was not a pleasant experience. It was too much for me to absorb - too aggressive, too murky sounding, too much going on at one time. It just sounded a little too mean and ugly for me at first. On subsequent listens, once the shock wore off, I came to appreciate the album more. There are definitely some great performances on this album. It's still not my favorite Miles Davis album by a long shot, but I can at least appreciate it now. My only complaint is that the album is maybe a bit too long. The four short studio pieces probably could have been dropped (or included on a different album), and the last two tracks on disc two maybe could have been edited down. Together, those last two tracks are just shy of 50 minutes long, and are fairly similar ("Funky Tonk" ends rather abruptly, and "Inamorata" begins with such a similar riff that if you're not paying attention, it sounds like one long piece). I know this album has a high reputation, and I do enjoy these CDs, but personally I'm more likely to listen to Bitches Brew or Get Up With It or Agharta when I'm in the mood to hear something from this phase of Miles' career. review by Bob Eichler — 2-26-05 —

j o e

A mid-twenty-something caught up in fascination at the fusion-era Miles Davis, I vaguely can remember looking up his discography from the early-mid 1970s, probably in the Penguin Book of Jazz or similar authoritative text, filing away in my head titles to be on the lookout for, especially the ones with what I knew to be killer line-ups. As I had gained my point of entry into the fusion genre originally from John McLaughlin's Mahavishnu Orchestra, and following up shortly thereafter with In a Silent Way, Bitches Brew, and Weather Report, one title that definitively stood out was Live-Evil. So, it was quite unexpectedly that one night, while treasure hunting in the bins of a used record store in NYC, I stumbled across this. It took less than a microsecond for it to register in my brain-the familiar Bitches Brew-type cover art and iconography with "Miles Davis" boldly printed in the upper right column. One check to make sure it was a legit copy (it was-a French import that preceded the eventual Sony SBM remasters by several years), and another to look at the embarrassingly reasonable asking price, and I walked back to my apartment that night a very happy lad. Well, I have to admit my expectations would be deflated somewhat. As I played it back in my room, my conclusion was that it was good but not as great as I had envisioned it would be in my mind. My opinion of 'good but not great' remains largely unchanged, listening to this now years later. Live-Evil essentially pits massive, live recordings against shorter, studio vignettes. The live tracks are from a 1970 band performance at the Cellar Door in Washington, D.C. The lineup is notable for including Keith Jarrett on keyboards (electric piano, no less!) and John McLaughlin sitting in. The Cellar Door tracks are of greatest affinity with the album Miles was making at the time, Jack Johnson, where the music is based around simple riffs that stick around in the same key, with the musicians taking turns soloing. Of these, "What I Say" is the one that takes the gold medal in terms of ferocity and energy, with Jarrett in particular executing some daredevil runs on Fender Rhodes. While these live tracks are interesting to varying degrees (except for "Funky Tonk," which meanders too much), they are all definitely overindulgent in terms of their length. I know Miles and Co. most likely weren't saying "Oh, watch the time counter!" when belting these out live on stage, but still, when experiencing this on an audio-only medium, they tend to go on... and on... and on. The live tracks are also marred considerably by sloppy editing. "Sivad" starts off great, with Miles making his trumpet talk with wah-wah over a steady groove, though after several minutes, this cuts off unexpectedly into a second, more laid back section that for me takes the wind out of the sails. Just as "Funky Tonk" seems to finally get going, it cuts off, and the opening of the next track, "Inamorata," appears to be a pretty direct continuation of the same exact jam. I am assuming these reflect the length requirements of the original LP format, but it still sounds shoddy. Also, the music of "Inamorata" at one point fades down at the 23 minute mark for a 'mystical' soliloquy ("Who is this music? That which description may never justify"!), and upon its completion, the music fades back in, but now with a noticeably lesser, barely bootleg sound quality for the remaining 2 ½ minutes of the track. That discrepancy in sound is probably the most egregious moment on the album. As for the studio vignettes, these consist of short pieces mainly by Brazilian composer Hermeto Pascoal, who whistles along or provides wordless vocals along with Miles' trumpet. Their inclusion offers an interesting counterpoint to the sprawling live tracks, being short studies in ambience. However, on the most beautiful of these, "Little Church," it really sounds like it's a rehearsal take. One pictures in listening to this Miles eyeing Pascoal's cues and doing a run-through of the basic melody; there are what sound like a few duff or shrill notes. As I said, I like this album, though feel it could have been stronger. With the recent emergence of the full Cellar Door box set as of this writing, we will see to what degree the editing and sound deficiencies for the live tracks of Live-Evil are able to be corrected. review by Joe McGlinchey — 12-29-05 —

m a t t

Though this great album combines two recording sessions (December 19, 1970 live at The Cellar Door in Washington, DC; June 3, 1970 at Columbia Studio B, New York, NY), over 85% of the material is from the Cellar Door date. Thus, while the studio recordings have rotating personnel (including Herbie Hancock, who continued to work occasionally with Miles after leaving to form his own electric band), the vast bulk of this double-album features a stable lineup, the septet of Davis, Bartz, McLaughlin, Jarrett, Henderson, DeJohnette and Moreira. This music is the most aggressive and multifaceted that Davis' electric band had recorded to this point. The live material sounds to me more like an extension (and abstraction) of Jack Johnson than a development of what his electric band was doing circa Bitches Brew, and since I've always preferred Jack Johnson anyway, I consider this to be a positive. "What I Say" (no relation to the Ray Charles hit) and "Inamorata" are the highlights of this album for me. A combined 48 minutes of electric-Miles bliss, these tracks contain some of the funkiest, swingingest, edgiest and hardest-rocking avant-garde jazz that you're likely to ever hear. Davis had completely digested his latest influences and executed his musical visions on Live-Evil with remarkable success. Throughout, McLaughlin and Jarrett distinguish themselves. Improbably, McLaughlin sounds thoroughly integrated with Davis' schemes and his bristling leads "belong" in this music more than ever (he was not a regular with this particular touring unit ). Less impressionistic than either Joe Zawinul or Chick Corea, Keith Jarrett sounds tailor-made for this incarnation of Davis' music. He had been playing with Davis' band for a few months prior to the Cellar Door date and he had gelled completely with the band's aesthetic, his playing as funky or as angular as the music demanded. The studio tracks are shorter and more atmospheric. The "Gemini/Double Image" medley is an exercise in post-Hendrix guitar riffing; the others are of a piece and sound as if Davis had been listening to Ennio Morricone's film scores. In any event, they're all interesting, and their sequencing effectively presents the longer pieces as individual entities as opposed to a continuous jam. Obviously, music of this sort is not for everybody. Miles Davis had already raised the ire of the jazz community with In a Silent Way and Bitches Brew and infuriated them when he started dabbling with funk influences. The fallout among purists continues to this day: this era of Davis' band was basically dismissed as musically irrelevant in Ken Burns' documentary Jazz. For music fans with open minds, though (most fans of prog, I've found), Miles Davis' electric albums may well make short lists of "desert island" essentials. Live-Evil would make mine and I can honestly say it's an album I doubt I'll ever tire of hearing. review by Matt P. — 2-16-05 —

b r a n d o n

I've always thought Live-Evil was rather overrated; and thankfully, with the incredibly long-awaited release of the Complete Cellar Door Sessions looming as I write this, it may finally become obsolete as a live document. Live-Evil basically consists of four long tracks drawn from the last two sets that Davis' band played at Washington, DC's Cellar Door in 1970 — incidentally, the only two sets of the band's stint at the Cellar Door in which guitarist John McLaughlin sat in. And while the music is generally very strong, it's marred by some bizarre editing and post-production choices, choices that threaten and in some cases completely destroy any semblance of flow or continuity. First and foremost are the shorter tracks interspersed throughout; these studio cuts lack the energy and funkiness of the live pieces, and don't contribute much of anything to the album as a whole. Even aside from these irrelevant shorter pieces, all the long live tracks except "What I Say" feature multiple obvious edits courtesy of Teo Macero (whose heavy-handed if not downright clumsy edits can be seen all over Miles' work in this period, though to better effect in albums like Bitches Brew or In a Silent Way). For instance, towards the end of "Funky Tonk" the band is just settling into a killer groove when bam! the wheels fall off completely, as in, Macero makes the inexplicable decision to abruptly fade the recording out. Even more inexplicably, the next track ("Inamorata") then begins with the band in basically the same groove — essentially the jam is cut straight through the middle and placed on record as two totally separate tracks. The end of "Inamorata" is just as bad, with the music fading into the background mid-groove and a lame "Narration" inserted on top. After the narration ends, the music comes back to the fore, but at bootleg-level quality. What the fuck? Despite these infuriatingly bad post-production decisions, the actual music is at times killer. "What I Say" is unedited, and while the rhythm section stays in the same groove for the entire 21-minute duration of the piece, at least it's a killer groove, with some killer soloing on top. Keith Jarrett is in fine form, and this recording offers a final look at his freer electric playing before he swore off electric instruments entirely. And the whole session is just dirtier and funkier than the more clinical Bitches Brew, offering a good intro to this period of Miles' career. It's just too bad that the whole affair is basically ruined by crappy editing. On the bright side, I guess those crappy edits will at least guarantee some sales for the forthcoming Complete Cellar Door Sessions. review by Brandon Wu — 9-22-05 —