Dan: I’m sorry, Quincy. Let’s take a break, and come back in a few.
• • •
Dan: What’s funny is that Miles & Me is not a sad book. You knew and Miles knew too there was going to be this other book, and that it would be different from the first one you did together. What was your process going into it?
Quincy: What happened was, sometime in the nineties, 1993 or 1994, around there, I got to thinking about what kind of book I would do if I were going to do something on Miles.
So I made a deal with myself. I decided I would write a foreword and an epilogue, and then see where I was at with writing something about Miles and my relationship with him. I knew if I could get the beginning and the ending, then it’d be okay.
So I started to think about how he played, and that he was such a great player and that he could play in all kinds of ways. Like, some people couldn’t play tender the way he could, and then play fast. So I tried to describe that in this prologue. And I came to this place where what I said was that he was a great poet on his instrument, and I decided to put that first. And I remember where he said, “Yeah, I don’t like poetry, I don’t read poetry or none of that shit, but I’m like a poet.” “Really?” I said. “Like how?” And he said, “Well, I hear that poets write with an economy of words. And I know that so many musicians play too many notes, but I don’t do that. I like to play with economy, like a poet does.”
And I had interviewed all the guys who were living who knew him in East St. Louis, all the guys in the band, who are mostly dead now, and I’d put what they said into his voice in the autobiography. They had told me that he was odd. All his life he was odd, an eccentric. But they gave him space, because they knew that he was a genius. So they gave him space, and he always treated them with respect.
And he had always told me that he had heard this old lady’s voice out in the woods of Arkansas when he was walking out of his uncle’s house, an old woman’s voice singing in a country church that he heard that time. He never saw her. Only heard her when he was walking in the woods. And that was the sound he chose to imitate when he made Kind of Blue.
In the night air, the trains never seem to stop whistling past . . . The voice of the old black woman floats . . . disembodied yet whole . . . birds circling above . . . The voice also circles . . . Achingly real.
And if you had the privilege of hearing that voice . . . [Miles & Me, p. 3]
He heard that voice, and he tried to get it, especially on Kind of Blue. That was his big influence.
So I tried to capture that in my prologue. See, Miles’s voice, his sound, wasn’t specifically that of a trumpet. He loved Louis Armstrong. But he had the genius to understand that he could transfer that human voice, that voice of people, to his horn. And when you’re in the woods and you hear the sound of the singing from the church in the air, that’s everything you need to convey, it’s musical and it’s something more than music too.
And Miles tried to perfect that sound as he grew as a trumpet player. He kept that idea, that aim, his whole life.
So you couldn’t pursue Miles. He had to choose you. And he chose me to write his autobiography. That was such a personal choice on his part.
Dan: Do you know why he chose you?
Quincy: I can tell you what Miles told Gary Giddens, the jazz critic and author: that he chose me because I’m black, and I’m from St. Louis. He was from East St. Louis and only the Mississippi River separated the two cities, but the culture amongst black people was the same. In many ways I was like he was, so I could finish his sentences, and understand him spiritually.
Dan: You wrote the prologue and then you moved all the way to what would become the last thing in the book, the epilogue, and wrote that next?
Quincy: Yes. So for the epilogue the idea was to recapture his life force if I could, the power of what I called “an unreconstructed black man.”
Unreconstructed black men don’t have the manners of their reconstructed “Negro” brethren, who are always trying to put a “civilized” face on their blackness, especially in the company of white folks . . .
Unreconstructed black men don’t submit to power games . . .
Unreconstructed black men go their own way . . . [Miles & Me, p. 167]
I miss him and so the goal of the epilogue was to see if I could conjure him up, bring him back in terms of remembering him in some way that would be meaningful to me—like could I, by writing about him, remember something I might not remember in the same way if I didn’t write about him?
Dan: And you found you could do that, do that in the way you’re describing? It was a very beautiful and high bar you were setting for yourself.
Quincy: Yes. I found as I wrote the epilogue that Miles as I knew him felt close again. So I knew I could do this book. I wanted to talk about him as a musician. About how important he was. And the periods where he was searching and wasn’t always that good. Like after his five-year absence, his chops weren’t as good. So when he came back in 1980, he was not up to par. But you know what, in time he did get up to par again, through constant work and practice.
I loved the fact that he wanted to get back. And toward the end he really did get there. And that was wonderful.
And throughout the book I wanted to talk about how Miles was as a person. He could be an asshole. And he could be very generous. In times of personal difficulty, you could count on him. I always found that. Miles would call, even if he was overseas, to tell me that whatever I needed I could count on him. He was loyal and generous—not halfway, not three-quarters of the way, but all the way.
You seldom find people like that. And I wanted to convey that in this book.
And how funny he was. People need to know that about Miles. And how shy he was. He was not a racist at all. He didn’t care what race you were. He could like or love someone of any race.
After telling the story of the autobiography from Miles’s point of view—you can’t find me in there, not even for a single word—I guess I really needed to write about the experience I had with Miles in a way that included my experience and who I am. Miles was too important to me, our friendship was too important, for me to leave that story unwritten.
—New York City, May and June 2018
index
A. Phillip Randolph Square (Harlem), 75
Ace, Johnny, 113
Acupuncture treatment, 68
Adderley, Julian “Cannonball,” 123, 124, 164
Adero, Malaika, 39
African Americans. See Black Americans
AIDS, 76–78
“Ain’t That a Shame,” 116
Akagi, Kei, 89
Album covers, 52, 93–94, 140, 145, 153. See also Record albums
Alcoholism, 147
Algren, Nelson, x
Ali, Muhammad, vii, 167
“All Blues,” 41
Allen, Woody, 150
Allison, Jay, 82
Amandla (Davis), 58, 74, 90, 108, 154–55, 163
Amnesty International concert (1986, Meadowlands Stadium), 65–66
Anderson, Leonard, 12
Annie Malone Parade (St. Louis), 6
Armani fashion, 88
Armstrong, Louis, 1, 6, 94, 170
Arnold, Fred, 12
Art Blakey and the Jazz Messengers, 123
Ashford and Simpson, 102
Aura (Davis), 154
Avery Fisher Hall (New York City): 1974 concert at, 148–49; 1981 concert at, 23, 150–51; 1989 concert at, 87–90
“Back Seat Betty,” 152
“Bags Groove,” 119–21
Bags Groove (Davis), 119–21
Baker, Harold “Shorty,” 5
Baldwin, James, xi, 77, 182; death of, 160–61
Baraka, Amiri, 91, 167
Barkin, Ellen, 73
Basie, Count, xi
Beaumont High School (St. Louis), 114, 116–17
Beethoven, 34, 44
Benassi E. Vaccari fashion, 88
Bender, Bob,
39
Berry, Chuck, 104–5, 113, 116, 117, 118, 167, 179
Big-band sound, 152, 153, 154–55
Big Fun (Davis), 143
Bill Haley and the Comets, 116
Birdland (New York City), 128
Bitches Brew (Davis), 129, 164; cover of, 140; critical reaction to, 139; electric instrumentation in, 137, 141; jazz-rock fusion in, 141, 142–43; younger audiences of, 138
Black Americans: On the Corner for, 145; fish joints of, 111–12; policemen’s treatment of, 152–53; self-identity issues for, 115–16, 117; skin color concerns of, 54–55; “unreconstructed” black image of, 118, 167–68. See also Black musicians
Black marching bands, 4–6
Blackmon, Larry, 58
Black musicians: forward-moving tradition of, 44; marching bands of, 4–6; racist treatment of, 32–34, 116–17, 170, 171–72, 174–75
Blades, Ruben, xiii, 65
Blakey, Art, 123, 151
Blanchard, Terrence, 6
Blue Devils, 30–31
“Blue ’n’ Boogie,” 119
Blues, 44, 142. See also Rock
Bolden, Buddy, 5
Bono (U2 pop star), 65
Boone, Pat, 116
Bowie, Lester, 5
Brathwaite, Freddie (Fab Five Freddie), 74–75
Brown, China (Troupe’s stepfather), 114, 115
Brown, Clifford, 161
Brown, Dorothy Smith Troupe (Troupe’s mother), 114, 115
Brown, James, 44, 55, 81, 132, 136; influence of, on Miles, 145; Miles’ loyalty to, 105
Brown, Marie, 39
Buckmaster, Paul, 153
Bugle playing, 5. See also Trumpet playing
Butler, George, 31
The Cadillacs, 113
Campbell, Percy, 12, 123
Camus, Albert, x
Cannon, Steve, 148
Carmichael, Stokely, 167
Carter, Ron, 93, 134, 164
Central Park (New York City), 24, 145
Césaire, Aime, 127
Chambers, Paul, 11, 123
Cinelu, Mino, 151
Circle in the Round (Davis), 143
Cocaine use, 22, 147
“Code M.D.,” 152
Coleman, Ornette, 150
Collins, Phil, 44
Coltrane, John, 1, 41, 81, 144, 164; death of, 135; Leonard Feather on, 139; in first quintet, 123; in Miles: The Autobiography, 93; Miles’ closeness to, 70, 161; at Peacock Alley, 10–11; “sheets of sound” style of, 124, 132; Troupe’s esteem for, 132, 133; and McCoy Tyner, 61, 63
Columbia Records, 23, 32, 154
Cooke, Sam, 113
Cookin’ (Davis), 123
Corea, Chick, 142
Cosby, Bill, 23, 32, 103, 150
Cosey, Pete, 148
Critics: on Bitches Brew, 139; on electrical instrumentation, 139–40; on Kool Jazz concert of 1974, 148–49; on Kool Jazz concert of 1989, 87; on The Man with a Horn, 151; on Miles: The Autobiography, 93; on Miles in second quintet, 134; on Miles’ later music, 166; on On the Corner, 147; on Sketches of Spain, 129; on We Want Miles, 151
Crouch, Stanley, 139, 172, 173
Cruz, Emilio, 80
Cruz, Pat, 80
DaCosta, Sandra, 23, 31, 41, 179–80
Dalí, Salvador, 55
Davis, Miles: AIDS rumors about, 76–78; annual birthday parties for, 103–4; and James Baldwin’s death, 160–61; in Blue Devils band, 30–31; boxing heroes of, 31; busted outside Birdland, 128–29; careers launched by, 164; celebrities paying homage to, 65–67; in the dark years, 21–22, 147; at Sammy Davis Jr.’s bedside, 95–96; death of, 157–60; and Gil Evans’s death, 70; and Jo Gelbard, 69, 108–9, 157, 169; health problems of, 41–42, 68–69, 76–77, 96–97, 100–101; and John Hicks, at 1974 concert, 149–50; homeboys’ relationship with, 2, 3–4; homosexual friends of, 77–78; interviews with, 23, 25, 27–34, 39, 78–81, 83–85, 86; in Knights of Malta, 76; Betty Mabry’s marriage to, 135; Malibu home of, 42; Manhattan apartment of, 25–26; Wynton Marsalis’s philosophy versus, 32–34, 87, 172–73; move from Columbia to Warner by, 32, 153–54; neighborhood sightings of, 9–10; nicknames for, 4, 17; policemen’s treatment of, 152–53; reaction of, to Miles, 91–92, 94; riding in Troupe’s car, 35–37; and road manager candidate, 71–72; sports cars of, 42–43, 48; Steve Rowland detested by, 82–86; tirade of, over Jo Gelbard, 107–9; tirade of, over old jazz, 106–7; and Margaret Troupe, 97–101; and Porter Troupe, 45–49; and Troupe’s dreadlocks, 27, 28–29; Troupe’s first meeting with, 9, 15–17; Troupe’s hero worship of, 121–22, 127, 133; at Tutu video party, 101–2; Cicely Tyson’s marriage to, 23, 67–69; Vincent Wilburn fired by, 73. See also Davis, Miles, music of; Davis, Miles, personal traits of
Davis, Miles, music of: and band personnel problems, 50–52, 73; big-band sound of, 152, 153, 154–55; in comeback period, 23, 150–53; electrical amplification of, 136, 137, 139, 141; in first quintet period, 122–25; forward movement of, 135–36, 138–40, 166; funk-jazz fusion in, 145, 146–47; group ensemble style of, 143, 146–47, 164–65; inclusivity of, 125–27, 135–36, 165, 173–74; in modal period, 124; move from old jazz in, 32, 44, 87, 106–7, 164–65, 172–73; older versus younger audiences of, 137–38; rock-jazz fusion in, 131–32, 136, 141, 142–43; “running” trumpet style of, 2, 124, 165–66; in second quintet period, 133–35, 142; unique sound of, 1–2; unrecognized contributions of, 170, 171–72, 173, 174–75. See also Performances; Record albums; Recordings
Davis, Miles, personal traits of: apparel preferences, 15, 17, 59, 66–67, 80, 89, 153; aversion to funerals, 160–61; childlike quality, 45; contradictory nature, 55–56; disciplined routine, 69; disdain for the past, 41, 44, 106–7; disdain for weakness, 30, 56, 64–65, 99; drug use, 22, 81, 120, 121, 147, 149; eating habits, 55, 94–95; fear of public interviews, 78–79, 80–82; generosity, 40, 78; gum-chewing habit, 17, 59; hair loss concerns, 28, 53–54; into head games, 59–64; hidden funny side, 42, 169; imperial attitude, 14–15, 17–18, 65–67, 168, 174–75; loneliness/isolation, 44–45, 101–3; love for horses, 49–50; loyalty to friends, 105–6; musical tastes, 44, 55, 57–58, 74–76, 137; musician’s strut, 17; nonapologetic, 109; painting avocation, 26–27, 55, 69, 98–99; riveting eyes, 40; sexism, 91, 169; skin color concerns, 4, 53, 54–55, 168–69; spirituality, 70–71, 161, 176; unapproachable demeanor, 11–15, 18–21; unpredictable behavior, 41–42, 56–57, 78–79, 106–9, 149–50; “unreconstructed” black man image, 13–14, 93–94, 167–68
Davis, Sammy, Jr., 95–96
Davis, Vernon (Miles’ brother), 83
Decoy (Davis), 23, 152, 163
DeJonette, Jack, 150
The Dells, 113
Domino, Fats, 116
“Donna,” 113, 119
Donna Karan fashion, 88
Doo-bop (Davis), 155
Drug use, 22, 81, 120–21, 147, 149
Drum and bugle corps bands, 4–6
Duret, Evette, 9
Duret, Yvonne, 9
E., Sheila, 151
East St. Louis: black marching bands of, 4–6; Miles’ homeboys from, 2, 3–4
Eastwood, Clint, 150
Electric instrumentation, 134–35; in Bitches Brew, 137, 141; Ralph Gleason on, 139; in In a Silent Way, 136
Ellington, Duke, 1, 55, 153, 170
Ellison, Ralph, 155, 172, 173
Ensemble group sound, 164–65; of Live-Evil, 143; of On the Corner, 146–47
European classical music, 126–27; institutional promotion of, 170, 171; of Wynton Marsalis, 87, 172; Miles on, 33–34; older audiences of, 137–38; of Sketches of Spain, 129
Evans, Bill, 68–69, 151, 164
Evans, Gil, 25, 70, 73–74, 106, 129
Evers, Medgar, 131
Fab Five Freddie (Freddie Brathwaite), 74–75
Faison, George, 77
Fashion shows: Kolshin Satoh, 66–67; at Miles’ concerts, 88; Miles’ private, 101
“Fast Track,” 152
Feather, Leonard, 134–35, 139
/> Fenny, James, 77
Filles de Kilimanjaro (Davis), 135, 164
First quintet/sextet (1956–1960), 122–25
Foley McCreary, Joseph, 52–53, 73, 89
Ford, Robben, 52
Foreman, George, vii
Fortune, Sonny, 148
Foster, Al, 93, 148, 151
Foster, Jodie, 73
Four and More (Davis), 172
Franco (Zarian guitarist), 155
“Freaky Deaky,” 152
Funk, 131, 138; with big-band sound, in Amandla, 154–55; fused with jazz, in On the Corner, 145, 146–47; group ensemble sound of, 143
Gabriel, Peter, 65
Garcia Marquez, Gabriel, 127
Garland, Red, 11, 123, 161
Garrett, Kenny, 58, 73, 89, 164
Gelbard, Jo, 74; art influence of, 69; at Miles’ death, 157; Miles’ jealousy over, 107–9; Miles’ respect for, 169
Gere, Richard, 102, 150
Get Up with It (Davis), 143
Giddens, Gary, 186
Gillespie, Dizzy, xi, 41, 55, 94, 123, 135, 151, 161
Ginsberg, Allen, 91
Gleason, Ralph, 139–40, 166
Glover, Danny, 82
Go-go, 74
Goodman, Benny, 174
Gordon, Maya-Luz, 103–4
Gordon, Walter, 86
Gordy, Berry, 132
Graham, Rev. Billy, 34
Grammy Award, 74, 151, 152
Grateful Dead, 143
Grosvenor, Verta Mae, 94–95
Gucci fashion, 88
Guccione, Bob, viii, ix
Gunn, Russell, 155
Guy, Jasmine, 103
Haley, Bill, 116
Hancock, Herbie, 93, 134, 164
Heath, Percy, 119
Hemphill, Julius, 151
Miles & Me Page 16
