Totally Shuffled extract-Miles Davis

 

August 26^th

Miles Davis-So What-Kind of Blue     

Now this is a strange connection, having only mentioned a couple of days ago about my guilt regarding not playing the countless Miles Davis CDs I’ve got. I’ve just counted them up-they are neatly filed in chronological order and mostly not listened to as yet-and there are 117 albums in total. (One hundred and seventeen! I never realised that I had so many-and it’ll be a mammoth task just to scratch the surface). I can say which ones that I’ve listened to more than once and know quite well, probably in the space of a few lines- “Kind Of Blue”, “Sketches of Spain”, “Bitches Brew”, “The Birth of the Cool”, “Filles De Kilimanjaro” and “On the Corner”. Not even two lines.

Why these six albums rather than any of the others?

It could be seen as something purely at random; and I very well may have picked them at random for all that I know about Miles Davis. But there was some rationale behind my choices, albeit very limited. 

A long time ago- a very long time ago now, it seems-when I was only knee high to a grasshopper (sort of)-actually I must have been 19 or so-one of my best friends got heavily into jazz. I distinctly recall speaking with him and saying that “I can’t get into jazz, it is just too dangerous.” Not that I had any aversion to trumpets or saxes, this conversation was along the lines of possible damage to my very slim bank account. I just knew that if I dipped my toes, however tentatively, into the massive and seemingly endless genre that was jazz that the consequences could be severe. It was akin to someone telling me that there was a fantastic new drug out there that would make all the others seem tame in comparison. 

So, (being a bit of a coward), I wimped out from the chance to be an Impetus, Blue Note or Verve obsessive and stuck firmly with my post-punk trajectory. 

I did peer over the edge of the precipice though, and asked my friend if there was one, single jazz record that I should own. After much head scratching and chin-stroking (a trait of jazz buffs, even those in their early twenties), he plumped for Miles’ “Sketches of Spain” as an utterly indispensible album. As “Sketches of Spain” had been released for ages and was readily available at a low price on vinyl then it wasn’t actually too much of a risk.

For a long time this was the only jazz album that I ever had; in fact, I think that it was the only jazz album that I ever bought on vinyl. There isn’t too much to say about it that hasn’t already been said before- I listened to it an awful lot though, usually at clichéd times when I was tired of any other sort of music and just wanted something to, (for the want of a better word) chill out to. This was the limit of my involvement regarding jazz for a long time-just something to chill out to. 

I hadn’t been dragged down into the dark abyss of jazzdom by buying one Miles Davis album. 

What went wrong? 

How did I end up with 117 Miles Davis albums, let alone countless John Coltrane, Monk and Charlie Parker ones? 

I think it was a combination of a) getting older and changing tastes, b) hearing jazz influences everywhere, c) the ever-increasing availability of music, and d) just realising that it would be daft to close myself off from a whole genre of music for ever. 

The only reason that I’ve listened to the six albums above is that I’ve kept seeing references to how influential they were in the context of popular culture at the time-especially “Bitches Brew” being compared to Bob Dylans’ switch from folk in 1965. 

Nowadays I don’t always play jazz just to chill out, but I can’t really call myself informed about jazz in any way. 

Maybe if I start listening to those dusty CDs I’ll get part of the way there.        

This is an extract from "Totally Shuffled-A Year of Listening to Music on a Broken iPod"

        

  and what "Totally Shuffled" is all about:

One track per day for 366 days on a broken iPod. 

366 tracks out of a possible 9553. 

From the obvious (The Rolling Stones), to the obscure (Karen Cooper Complex). 

From the sublime (The Flaming Lips) to the risible (Muse).   

From field recordings of Haitian Voodoo music to The Monkees. 

From Heavy Metal to Rap by way of 1930’s blues, jazz, classical, punk, and every possible genre of music in between. 

This is what I listened to and wrote about for a whole year, to the point of never wanting to hear any more music again. Some songs I listened to I loved, and some I hated. Some artists ended up getting praised to the skies and others received a bit of critical kicking. 

There’s memories of spending too many hours in record shops, prevaricating over the next big thing and surprising myself over tracks that I’d completely forgotten about. 

But with 40 years of listening to music, I realised that I’ll never get sick of it.  I may have fallen out of love with some of the songs in this book, but I’ll never fall out of love with music.     

Get/read Totally Shuffled here

Kindle:
          

http://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/product/B00CJYZ3CA 

Paperback:

http://www.amazon.co.uk/Totally-Shuffled-Listening-Broken-iPod-/dp/149495687X