Miles Davis - Decoy

Off late, choosing a Miles Davis album to listen to, to be a part of, to move with, hasn’t been easy at all. While I constantly listen to Miles’ Man With The Horn, I was also very intrigued in hearing what his other lineups were doing; the breadth and the profundity of music available that claims influence from Miles and/or involves his own substantial input is tremendous.

As a bassplayer, I have most definitely been influenced by Marcus Miller, Michael Henderson, and Darryl Jones; three low enders who sound totally different from each other, but in essence, could understand and sail through the ideas that Miles was urging them to follow and expand on. And I haven’t really touched on Foley (Joe McCleary, Miles’ lead bassist 1987-1991), Felton Crews (you’ve got to check out that snaky bassline he plays on Shout on Man With The Horn), Tom Barney (currently with Steely Dan), and Richard Patterson, among the other bassplayers Miles worked with.

It is really astonishing, almost surreal, to realize how many musicians have passed out from Miles’ academy of improvisory jazz funk. It seems jazz has a debt with Miles in more ways than one which the opulent ear can hear. Whatever jazz you are listening to, it definitely pays tribute to Miles in some way or the other; it could be musings, genuflection; even genuine respect that’s hard to come by for so many jazzers after years of performing.

Getting most of Miles’ electric music was a little tough for me but I have managed quite a few like Star People, Tutu, You’re Under Arrest, On The Corner, all of which are currently spinning in my CD player.

I remember going into a music store a while back and glancing casually at the jazz section (knowing fully well that if I did find something, it would be a good day to say the least; I had already bought a ton of music from the same place!) hoping to find Miles, maybe some other rare music if possible; I found a dusty Decoy hiding behind a stack of CD’s like the bomb it really was.

Decoy, from the very first listen, just blew me away; Miles has a wonderful band in here and the forms and vamps are intense with such a strong pulse in them; its almost African Voodoo; the band doesn’t seem to sag at all and they all move along chord changes at fairly fast tempos. This is a young and powerful band who seem to know exactly what Miles wants and how to give it to him. The core unit comprises of Bill Evans on Saxophone, Branford Marsalis on Soprano saxophone (you’ll hear him in a lot of weird places but not everywhere), long timer Al Foster on drums, Minu Cinelu on Percussion, and Robert Irving 3 on keyboards, drum pads, and ambience.

The immaculate thing about Decoy though is the form and the freedom Miles gave to all his musicians; it seems to me that he chose these young musicians to play in his band because he was probably curious about the urban context and what made music in that dimension tick. I’m yet to meet anyone who didn’t think Miles’ electric music was weird. While he could be credited with having changed music five times in his career, each element within that music that he put his time into, ultimately morphed that style into something else; something quirky, eclectic, and downright nasty. And each time he did this, he would have an equally psychotic band to actually play all this music, improvise on the spot; and Miles was known to take your groove away and force you to find something else.

From whatever I have read, Miles wasn’t an easy person to be around with but what is significant as regards to his music; the sense of direction and unity found on Decoy, never mind the groovy scrumptiousness of electronika, jazz, funk, and free flowing rock rhythms contained and sandwiched between every other track; is almost a riverbed of ideas. Watching Miles’ Live at Montreux without having heard Decoy, one gets the idea that the music on the studio album was totally improvised minus the heads and the outroduction solos. Conversely, listening to Miles a lot tells you that the music was actually composed from ground up, all the themes, moods, and solos were well understood as one of the goals of playing live. I don’t think anything was sacrificed in the studio; sure, there are odd moments, but that’s Miles; he’s still going to drop that beautiful phrase with the muted trumpet that’s going to make you sit up and take notice.

The bassplayer providing the grease and the nastay slap sound is Darryl ‘The Munch’ Jones who played with Miles between June 1983 - July 1985 and October 1986 - April 1988; the break was for the tour with Sting on the Bring On The Night Tour which is where I first heard this groundbreaking, unsung, and rarely credited bassplayer. His credits sheet though covers major artists such as Madonna, Peter Gabriel, Joan Armatrading, and Sting for a start.

Darryl really is a machine (too see him in action, check out Miles Davis Live in Montreux) and provides a pulse that is fresh, insistent, and playfully melodic. He is also an excellent musician in terms of support, endurance, stamina, and improvisation. On Decoy, you’re listening to a young Darryl on his first major gig with Miles; Darryl who actually survived a phone call with Miles in which he told Miles that he ‘could play’ is totally the man the band is banking on and his slap chops are ridiculous. I don’t mean the Victor Wooten thumbing chops or the Ray Riendeau double plucking chops; I’m talking about bassplayer slap chops which is basically holding it down. Nobody embodies the concept of grooving and holding it down while supplying the fat to the fire than Darryl; he takes a big bite out of the music and chews on it, pushing the groove to a dynamic level that made Miles remark one time that “if I played bass, I'd wanna play just like you.”

Darryl’s also relentless, as is evidenced on the title track where he plays a mean slap/pop line in favor of a normally Hendersonian* (Michael Henderson*, the first electric bassplayer with Miles) eighth note pulse; but you can hear Michael’s influence on Darryl as well in lieu of the NO wasted notes; Darryl makes every note count and when you’re finished listening to Decoy, it will be the tenaciousness and the bite that he provided within that studio recording framework that lingers and remains. He also pumps out a well oiled and greasy groove on Freaky Deaky which represents an essential facet- Darryl never overplays but then, he never underplays either; somehow like James Jamerson and Chuck Rainey, he always manages to find the right line to play with any drummer.

With drummer Vince Wilburn, Darryl has a brotherly groove and with Al Foster, there is an independent groove; I think that in most contexts where Darryl plays, he seems to know what the improvisory space accounts for, and only then does he decide to break away from the root based groove that Miles asks him, to do something slick and definitely worthy of bassdom. For instance, listening to the pastiches that the band creates on the last track, That’s What Happened, is confounding; there are multiple independent and interdependent parts; part of the reason why it sounds like it’s still glued within this universe is the quirky interplay between Darryl and Al Foster. They sound slick, and very often they sound like they’re building musical structures only to break them down so they can build a new one in its place with a few characteristics from the old thrown in. As a rhythm section, Darryl and Al are creative to say the least. With them in all their pursuits is the world renowned percussionist, Minu Cinelu, who brings an Afro-Cuban approach complete with wood blocks and splash cymbals.

All the tracks on Decoy have great bass parts and I think in one sense, while Marcus Miller may have done much for Miles’ music in terms of arrangement, composition, and sometimes even dictating the overall theme and feel (Note Marcus’ parts on Jean Pierre and Backseat Betty), Darryl plays a more foundational role peppered with the occasional virtuosic fills and thump. This is in fact what has gotten him a very well paying gig- with The Rolling Stones- for the last ten years.

Of course, Darryl is not the only one who’s makes the music meet on Decoy; his counterparts and sometimes, alter egos, John Scofield and Bill Evans also construct high ledges on which they occasionally suspend the rest of the musicians; it sounds risky and dangerous but in effect, a lot of the credibility that Miles’ electric music has received, all that critical acclaim, is really Miles’ letting himself get set up; he didn’t surround himself with young musicians so he could look cool; he literally lived with them. His contemporaries and peers were in too staid a direction and Miles was always restless. It made sense for him to use musicians like John Scofield and Bill Evans who as you will abundantly hear, can hold their own.

Scofield of course is a great improviser but on Decoy, he plays very much the support role, only breaking out in a sweat for his solos; the music is also tightly constructed around Scofield’s rhythmic chank which meets Miles and Darryl over the arrangement of the songs themselves. The jazz funk sound in Decoy culminates into orgiastic interplay as a result of John Scofield’s jazz rock leanings.

Bill Evans is one of the finest saxophonists, one of the many virtuosos that Miles helped establish as the top tenors in the world; it’s true that Bill Evans was asked by Miles whether he could play like John Coltrane and the visibly distressed Bill Evans replied he could basically do his own thing. And he does; his solos arch and scream through the funky din the band makes. There is a certain sense of meandering with, and a myriad range of tones that Bill evokes off of his saxophone; much of it of course is soloing over a chord section/vamp; but he holds his own, often completing the musical idea that Miles starts. More importantly, he comes of as a focused, determined player, totally sharing the collective idea of grooving incessantly as well; with all those chops, he lends an incredible deft hand to the already proficient rhythm section in deriving melodic counterpoints and sharp ostinatos. John Coltrane would have been proud.

The man responsible for the electronic effects, the drum pads, and a lot of the ambience in Decoy is the infallible Robert Irving 3. In addition to being the musical director on Decoy, he’s also the composer of the title track and Code MD. All the arrangements in a large way are reflective of Irving; the electronic sound with the ambient focus is a result of his many experiments with Miles’ music for five years. I'm not sure whether Iriving chooses to lay back but he seems to know the dynamic intent of the band really well. Davis is also credited with playing synthesizers but rarely in a lead role.

I didn’t think I’d like Decoy so much; after spending so much time listening to Tutu and The Man With The Horn, it was hard to like any other Miles album; but I was wrong; what started as an indefatigable curiousity has now turned into complete, unabated obsession. The reason is simple. I hear Miles bringing out the best in his musicians and pushing them over the edge and even when it sounds like its all going to fall down around you, the band always get right back on track. The level of communication that I can feel happening between the musicians and Miles is a subliminal one punctuated with the short, insistent, and enigmatic gaps. The artful silence in that gap; I just cannot explain it, but I know what it makes me feel.

Track listing:

1. Decoy
2. Robot
3. Code M.D
4. Freaky Deaky
5. What it is
6. That’s Right
7. That’s What Happened
   

Credits:

Miles Davis (Synthesizer, Trumpet)
Robert Irving III (Synthesizer & Drum Programming)
John Scofield (Guitar)
Bill Evans (Soprano Saxophone)
Mino Cinelu (Percussion)
Al Foster (Drums)
Darryl Jones (Bass)
Branford Marsalis (Saxophone)