Miles Ahead.
Sunday, May 15, 2005
Been a rough week, but I'm bouncing back now.
I'm listening to Miles Davis' "Miles Ahead." I've got all the lights off, and some candles burning. The CD booklet says it was recorded in 1957. Man, I wish I was alive in those days, even with the racism. All the style those people had in that era. And the talent. You had all the jazz giants at their peak, Blue Note, Pollock, early Warhol (just arrived in NYC) and Lichtenstein, the early Rat Pack, French New Wave cinema, early Poitier, and James Dean, all happening at the same time. And JFK was right around the corner. It would have been even cooler to have been in Europe at that time, as a black man, like the cats in "La Dolce Vida."
I wonder why Miles never moved to Europe. He was a god there. I read his autobiography, and he never said why.
Now, it's all about this marble-mouthed rap shit (with the exception of Jay-Z), and all these hipster emo bands who can't even play guitar solos. Clothes look like shit. The way American women leave the house today is appalling. And all these conservative assholes pushing the End Times on us. It's fucking horrible.
Give me Miles, man. You can never, ever go wrong with Miles. Any era, I don't care. "Kind of Blue," "Cookin'," "Sketches of Spain," "Bitches Brew," "Tutu," doesn't matter. Buy one of his CDs and be transported.
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