Present in Me

On Bitches Brew and Jack Johnson, I had an advantage. It was the guy with the trumpet pointing at people. His aura was that strong that you knew when to play and when not to play. What was special about Miles was that I could add that aura to my musical palette. Take direction from him in body language, so to speak. Contribute where I felt it was necessary.

We would only play what we thought was necessary to give the music life. It wasn’t about how many notes we played, or how advanced we were on our instruments, individually. It was about the real picture that was put forward and how that personality would be instilled in the minds that would listen.

When you left the studio and the record came out, people would know all the lines exactly. I knew the guys on the sessions from reputation, but I had never played with any of them. I found the first thing I needed to do was “not” play. Show restraint. Not because I couldn’t, but because I wanted to understand the direction in which the music was going.

Miles was a very special person. I say “was”— is, because he’s still very present in me and I believe in many of my con-temporaries.