Epistrophy
""Epistrophy" (initially called "Fly Rite" or "Iambic pentameter") was co-written with Kenny Clarke, and was copyrighted on June 2, 1941, and was the first tune copyrighted by Monk. It is a relatively atonal 32-bar tune in ABCB-form, though the key center is C♯.
The main melodic theme was composed by Clarke, after experimenting with fingerings on the ukulele, and the chords where written by Monk. The title "Epistrophy" is not a word in any dictionary. However, the word "epistrophe" is defined by Merriam-Webster as "the repetition of a word or expression at the end of successive phrases, clauses, sentences, or verses especially for rhetorical or poetic effect".
The tune appears on almost every single live album by Monk, as it was the closing tune of each set from Monk's days at Minton's Playhouse onwards. The first recording was by Cootie Williams on April 1, 1942, and it was later recorded by Clarke's band on September 5, 1946. It was not recorded by Monk before July 2, 1948, for the Wizard of the Vibes sessions, featuring Milt Jackson. It was later recorded for Monk's Music and was an outtake from the It's Monk's Time sessions."
Nutty
"A 32-bar tune in AABA-form in B♭ that written in the studio and first recorded on September 22, 1954, for the album Thelonious Monk Trio. The tune is structured like "Bemsha Swing" and "Good Bait", in that in their respective B-sections, that A-part is transposed to the subdominant to create B-section. The tune was recorded again July 1957 for the album Thelonious Monk with John Coltrane. Live versions of the tune appear on the albums from Carnegie Hall and the Five Spot. Margo Guryan also wrote lyrics for the tune."
**Prelude**
Influenced by everything from funk bands to avant garde classical composers, Davis’s ensemble became ever less bound to the past, even as its reliance on grooves and cyclical riffs (particularly from the rhythm section) re-emphasised its debts to blues. But whatever this new music was, it certainly wasn’t pop.
Evidence of what his mid-70s band were up to exists in several supersized portions, doled out across three official live albums and a slew of bootlegs. Nothing sounded like what this septet were up to back then, and nothing has sounded like it since. The first track on Agharta, recorded in Osaka in February 1975, is a 35-minute collision of ideas, structures and sounds given the title Prelude on the record (but which is, in effect, a medley that includes the tracks Tatu and Maiysha as well as Agharta Prelude), that is among the most singular musical moments of the 20th century. Themes and moods are built and destroyed; ideas are assayed, discussed between the instruments, then rejected, only to be replaced by something else. It’s as if the ceaseless quest for something new, the defining characteristic of his creative life, had intensified as Davis found himself skating ever closer to the edge. Though Davis continued to record, this marked the end of the parts of the journey that took him furthest and deepest into the great musical unknown.
https://www.theguardian.com/music/musicblog/2017/apr/12/miles-davis-10-of-the-best
Miles Runs the Voodoo Down
Bitches Brew was the record to really scare the jazz purists away: a chaotic, crowded, often cacophonous double LP, it was as extreme as Davis had got. That he was accused of “selling out” at the moment he pushed his music to the limits of listenability probably says more about his detractors than it does about the man or his creative output. The Jimi Hendrix influence is often cited as reaching its apogee on this track, with the title’s nod to Voodoo Child; but in truth, this is Miles, the native son of East St Louis, going back down the Mississippi to reconnect anew with his blues roots. The album version differs dramatically from the one the live band had been playing, and not just because twice as many musicians had been assembled for the session. It’s slower, anchored by a simple drum track played by Don Alias, who had been brought in to play congas: he’d heard a rhythm on a visit to New Orleans and felt it would fit this track better than the one the two drummers (Jack DeJohnette and Lenny White) had tried on earlier, aborted takes. Note, too, that title: Davis isn’t stalking or hunting his prey, hiding in the undergrowth ready to pounce – he’s out there in the open, letting his quarry know that he’s on its tail. That sense of fearless indomitability is there in every note of what is, even in a career brimming with standout moments, a notably thrilling and strident performance.
So What
"Davis had already formed and fired the group that would become known as his “first great quintet” (drummer Philly Joe Jones, pianist Bill Evans, bassist Paul Chambers and John Coltrane on saxophone) when, days after returning from Paris, he re-recruited five superb musicians and began working as a sextet. Lineup tweaks were frequent, and by March 1959, the group featured Jimmy Cobb on drums, Wynton Kelly on piano, Chambers, Coltrane and additional saxophonist Cannonball Adderley. Yet for one of two sessions on 3 March, Bill Evans returned to the piano stool, so fundamental did Davis feel his style was to the material the group was about to record. The two March sessions – and another on 22 April, again with Evans taking Kelly’s place – would give the world Kind of Blue, on which Davis and friends once again upended convention and took jazz off on a new expedition. The set texts tell how Kind of Blue broke the mould, with the players rejecting chords as the basis of improvisation and adopting modes. Another way of thinking about it would be to do as Davis seems to have intended: reflect on the album’s title and listen while six master musicians reconfigure the blues for a new era."
https://www.theguardian.com/music/musicblog/2017/apr/12/miles-davis-10-of-the-best
Générique
"Touring Europe had a profound effect on Davis. In France, he felt respected as an artist without question or caveat: this had never been the case in his racially segregated homeland. Certainly, he was sure he would never have been approached by a movie director during a US nightclub residency and asked to compose music for a film. When Louis Malle made just that offer to Davis in November 1957, Davis accepted the challenge. The soundtrack to Malle’s Ascenseur pour l’Échafaud (Lift to the Scaffold) was recorded in two days in December. The band – a local pick-up group, including expatriate American drummer and bebop pioneer Kenny Clarke – were given little more than some rough ideas Davis had jotted down in his hotel room the night before. On arrival at the studio they found the film’s star, Jeanne Moreau, holding court at a makeshift bar; loops of footage from the film were projected while they improvised, with Davis suggesting that whatever they played be in counterpoint to the images on the screen. It wasn’t the first jazz soundtrack to a film noir, but it’s an exemplar of the form: Davis’s careful, vulnerable, vibrato-less playing – sometimes using his mute, at others gently enhanced with echo – was tailor-made to snake through black-and-white shots of night-time city streets and imply turbulent moods swimming through shadowy rooms and behind inscrutable faces shot in stark closeup."
https://www.theguardian.com/music/musicblog/2017/apr/12/miles-davis-10-of-the-best
Bright Mississippi
"A contrafact of "Sweet Georgia Brown" that Monk developed during the European tour in 1961, where the melody consists of staccato notes that outline the harmony. It was first recorded on November 1, 1962, for Monk's Dream. Live versions also appear from the albums recorded at the It Club and the Jazz Workshop."
'Round Midnight
""'Round Midnight" is a 1944 composition by pianist Thelonious Monk that quickly became a jazz standard and has been recorded by a wide variety of artists. A version recorded by Monk's quintet was added to the Grammy Hall of Fame in 1993. It is the most recorded jazz standard composed by a jazz musician
Composition and Monk's first recording
It is thought that Monk composed the song sometime in 1940 or 1941. However, Harry Colomby claims that Monk may have written an early version around 1936 (at the age of 19). The song was copyrighted September 24, 1943 in C minor under the title "I Need You So", and included lyrics by Monk himself. The first recording was made by Cootie Williams on August 22, 1944, after the pianist Bud Powell persuaded Williams to record the tune. Monk first recorded the song on November 21, 1947, and later appeared on the Blue Note album Genius of Modern Music: Volume 1, and recorded it several times after that. His first version was transcribed by Lionel Grigson in A Thelonious Monk Study Album (Novello, 1993). Jazz trumpeters Cootie Williams and Dizzy Gillespie further embellished the song, with songwriter Bernie Hanighen adding his own lyrics. The lyrics were copyrighted November 27, 1944 under the title "Grand Finale". Both Williams and Hanighen received co-credits for their contributions. The commonly played intro to "'Round Midnight" was originally composed by Dizzy Gillespie for the end of his arrangement for "I Can't Get Started", but later adopted it to the intro for "'Round Midnight".[8] Gillespie later reused the arrangement for "I Can't Get Started", and recorded it for Birks' Works and Something Old, Something New."