Miles Davis
The Cellar Door Sessions 1970 (5 stars)
When Miles Davis lured Motown bassist Michael Henderson into his band in 1970, it signalled a new era for the legendary jazzman, one that steered his electric brand of music into conspicuously funky territory. Far from Davis' first innovation, and not quite his last, the radical move disturbed purists and surprised loyalists more than almost anything the trumpeter attempted. Yet despite its impact on the jazz scene, the period remained shamefully under-represented among Davis' vast catalog, available only via bootlegs and Live-Evil, a two-disc hodgepodge blending live and studio tracks.
Until now. The latest installment in Columbia's mammoth Miles reissue series rights that wrong in grand style, to the tune of a six-disc box presenting six of 10 sets performed by Davis & Co. during four nights at the Cellar Door in Washington, D.C., December 16-20, 1970.
Disc 1 kicks off with the formidable lineup of Davis, Henderson, saxophonist Gary Bartz, organist-pianist Keith Jarrett and drummer Jack DeJohnette, before percussionist Airto Moreira climbs aboard on Disc 2. As if that sound—anchored by Henderson's grooves and highlighted by Jarrett's vivid solos and Davis' wah-wah assaults—isn't happening enough, guitar great John McLaughlin joins in for the final two discs, providing an epic finish to a historic concert run.
First-hand liner-note accounts by the participants (all living, aside from Davis) enhance the physical package, which is durable and stylish in the tradition of the series' other primo bound sets. For fans of bold electric jazz, there can be no better way to kick off the new year.
Notorious B.I.G.
Duets: The Final Chapter (3 stars)
Guess you could say that the Notorious B.I.G. is getting his Tupac on. Sorta. Whereas Pac—or, more correctly, his mother, Afeni Shakur, and former boss Suge Knight—is still releasing new music nearly a decade after his murder, Duets: The Final Chapter, covers zero new ground in the life and rhymes of Christopher Wallace (murdered a year after Tupac).
Instead of the long-promised, unheard vocals from the king of Brooklyn, we get already covered material that didn't need new production (even if it's from Jazza Pha, Swizz Beatz and Scott Storch, heavyweights in their own right) nor new vocals (Eminem, Mobb Deep, Ludacris, Slim Thug and others rappers do serviceable jobs). By packaging Duets as the final chapter, B.I.G.'s former boss, P.Diddy, is putting butter on cardboard and calling it toast.
Granted, that happens when money, not posterity, is your guide—it's all about the Benjamins, baby. Duets takes the safe route, which is also the boring and uninspiring one. It could've been a collector's item with just a tad bit more daring.
Think of the fun the spaced-out, comical Kool Keith (self-dubbed Black Elvis) could've had with a Biggie track. Or how sharing a song with Brooklyn's finest could've brought out the best in folks such as Chino XL, Ice Cube and Kool G Rap. Or how interesting it would've been to pair Biggie with the zany Thirston Howell III, the thinky Dilated Peoples, the deranged Dangermouse or the politically astute Sage Francis. Or Redman. Or Papoose. The possibilities are endless.
Whether or not you think the Notorious B.I.G. was the greatest rapper of all time, you'd probably agree that the formulaic Duets is no way to burnish his legacy.
We Are Scientists
With Love and Squalor (3 stars)
American indie-rock trio We Are Scientists swipes a page from the Killers' playbook, generating a sizable UK buzz before bringing debut album With Love and Squalor to home shores this month.
Sonically, the Brooklyn-by-way-of-Southern-California transplants also share some ground with Las Vegas' best-known quartet, constructing slick, danceable tunes that could make their way onto MTV2 or the fringes of modern rock radio.
Opener "Nobody Move, Nobody Get Hurt" and first single "The Great Escape" careen with the nervous energy of Franz Ferdinand or Bloc Party, while the skittish pop of "Worth the Wait" is a dead ringer for Hot Hot Heat.
With Love and Squalor is most memorable, though, when We Are Scientists distance themselves from their peers. "Can't Lose" sheds a potential Strokes comparison with a unexpectedly oozing hook. And on "This Scene Is Dead," the foot-tapping freneticism of Moving Units gives way to lumbering heaviness at the chorus, as vocalist Keith Murray implores listeners to "Come on and get gone" with a band still probing for an identity of its own.