How many rock bands can claim that after their active phase ended, all members went on to successful solo careers, during which they continued to shape the face of "their" genre? The only ones that come to mind are The Beatles (if we cut Ringo some slack) and Cream (where all three protagonists had already been through a lot by the time the band was formed). Even in jazz, such a concentration of talent is not usual (there is always someone more or less in charge, and someone, who has no compositional ambitions or simply doesn't feel like a driving force), but one of the exceptions is undoubtedly the second quintet of trumpeter Miles Davis, whose members became major figures in jazz, jazz rock and fusion in the 1970s and 1980s.

This quintet is indeed a sovereign ensemble and not just a backing band for the clear-cut boss Davis. There is nothing easier than look at the tracklist of E.S.P. - the first studio recording on which the quintet came together as a complete line-up. Miles Davis is credited on only three of the seven recordings (two of which he co-wrote), the rest are credited to the other members of the group - bassist Carter in particular was a prolific writer during this period.

I would divide the material on the album into several categories. The listener less addicted to jazz will probably be more interested in the up-tempo pieces, in which the rhythm section creates a breeding ground on which the solo instruments can frolic ad lib. Such are the compositions Eighty-One, Iris or the title track E.S.P. More melancholy and more spare arrangements, in which every note and beat stands out, are brought by the band in pieces like Little One, Mood or Agitation. Probably the most avant-garde track for me is R.J., where I perceive a fusion of both approaches. I probably prefer the denser pieces myself - when listening to Davis and Shorter's output, I often think that one of the inspirations for hard rock guitar soloists could be right here.

Of course, in the case of this recording, we're in the realm of strictly acoustic jazz; there's no trace of electric guitar and rock in general. Still, I think that for listeners of more sophisticated rock forms, this group's records might not be a misstep - especially if you're into even a little bit of that melancholy. Because jazz (like blues) can interpret that to perfection.

When you say Grateful Dead, most music fans associate psychedelia and country with the band's name, but the group around guitarists Jerry Garcia and Bob Weir also more or less dabbled in funk, jazz rock, and, in the late 1980s, produced pop rock-tinged music during their thirty-year career. Of the two albums of original material they released at that time, I like 1989's Build to Last a little better. Sadly, by the time it was released, the line-up that had spent the whole of the eighties together was slowly sounding its death knell, as keyboardist Brent Mydland involuntarily ended his earthly journey the following July after overdosing on cocaine. Thus fueling rumors that the position of keyboard player was cursed with the Grateful Dead - over the years, four of their five players have passed from this world by other than natural causes (the fifth, Tom Konstanten, is still alive).

So what does the record with which the Grateful Dead closed out their studio career have to offer? First and foremost, it's the tinkling tones of electric guitars, which accompany the listener through pretty much the entire album. They are followed by variously shaped synth tracks, which don't stand out from the band's sound, but rather complement it naturally. The nine included tracks build on a pleasantly brooding melody: occasionally a more expressive chorus flashes through, but for the most part it's a fairly civil performance. The tracks are enlivened by guitar solos, which feature a lot of unusual harmonic runs and harmonies. As usual, the lyrics, written for the band by renowned songwriters Robert Hunter and John Perry Barlow, feature plenty of cultural references, from the Gospel of Matthew to writer Norman Mailer and the first astronauts on the moon to computer slang.

Of the included tracks I personally like two-thirds of the trio contributed by frontman Jerry Garcia: the title track Built to Last, with its imagery reflecting on impermanence and permanence, as well as the opening track Foolish Heart, about not starting anything with a this kind of heart. From the pen of keyboardist Mydland comes perhaps the most hit song on the record, the ecologically themed We Can Run, as well as the slightly more sombre Just a Little Light. The third of the band's prolific writers, guitarist Bob Weir, contributed, for example, with my other favourite track Victim or the Crime, whose lyrics ponder the issues of justice and truth. Perhaps the only thing I perceive as weaker is Mydland's final piece I Will Take You Home, which contains too much pathos for my taste.

On Built to Last, the Grateful Dead are by no means presenting themselves in their typical position - on the contrary, for a band that was famous for sprawling instrumental jams and songs that usually functioned as a soundtrack to a good trip at concerts, there is quite a bit of "smoothness" here. Still, the album offers a decent helping of melodies and imaginative songwriting that I find a joy to sink my teeth into every time. The 60's and 70's Grateful Dead sounded a lot different, but I think that position suits the band as well. I really like this record quite a bit.