Search - Miles Davis :: Pangaea (Mlps)

Now here's a case where the rating I give doesn't matter

finulanu | Here, there, and everywhere | 07/30/2008

(5 out of 5 stars)

"Prepare yourself. This is probably not what you're used to. Unless you're used to an album made up of two forty-minute free-form fusion jams. It's hard to review this properly, because it's not at all a traditional album. There aren't really melodies or anything, and you know the performances are gonna be good, because it's Miles Davis, so you can't judge it on terms of that. It all pretty much depends on if you like the sound, the vibe, whatever. Like Miles' contemporary studio discs, it's murky, evil voodoo music, somewhere between funk, jazz, and rock. I'll fully admit that I don't get where Miles is going at all with this album, and that I really don't know how to rate it. Because, I mean, what terms am I gonna use outside of "that bit's cool, that bit isn't?" But there are parts where the whole band really starts cooking and sinks into an impossible, indomitable groove. For instance, the part about twenty-eight minutes into "Zimbabwe." The group really touches on something then, and they don't let up. Sonny Fortune (soprano sax) and especially guitarist Reggie Lucas really shine there. Lucas kicks butt there, delivering a stellar guitar solo that's somewhere between Carlos Santana, John McLaughlin, and Jimmy Page. And Al Foster, behind the kit, starts to pick up in intensity and really rocks the joint. And Michael Henderson keeps a funky bottom that makes the part not only dark and dense, but also danceable in a strange sort of way. The rest of the piece sort of comes and goes, but that part right there really sticks out to me. I don't know what to make of the piece as a whole, though. There are parts where the volume drops out almost entirely, and you're left with just Foster and some weird synth stuff. There's not much Miles, either. He doesn't play a lick for the last ten, fifteen, maybe even twenty minutes of the piece. And "Gondwana" is even more bizarre than "Zimbabwe." Clocking in at forty-seven minutes, it begins with a simple vamp, with a haunting, exotic flute being improvised over it. There's no theme, no melody, none of that. They just launch straight into the flute solo. There are these weird synth buzzings behind the solo, and they both give me a headache and detract from the flute's beauty. Then Miles adds his wah-wah'ed trumpet. Or at least I think it's Miles. For all I know, it could be a guitar or synthesizer. Then the song drifts off to somewhere I can't even begin to define. It's totally free-form. The solos come and go, the rhythms abruptly turn liquid, and genre conventions are abruptly dropped off a cliff. There's a really strong guitar solo section somewhere, and there's also a bongo solo, but that's about all I can rationally explain. About half the piece is spent in synthesizer and drum fantasy land, and I don't know if I like synthesizer and drum fantasy land or not. When the whole adventure finally ends, I'm left confused. Not exhausted, not amazed, not disillusioned with Miles for life. Just confused. And that's all there is. Two songs, two discs, an hour-and-a-half. Brace yourself."