Miles & Me

by Quincy Troupe

  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