MILES DAVIS — Tutu (review)

Album · 1986 · Pop/Art Song/Folk

4/5 · 2012-07-25
Chicapah

We humans, to a normal extent and often too much, place importance on numbers when it comes to years passing by. In particular, the beginning of every 12-month period with a zero tacked on the end of it has significance for our lives one way or another as does entering one’s twenties or thirties upon reaching a particular birthday. Sometimes these occasions are met with eager anticipation and sometimes they’re greeted with dread and/or apprehension, depending on one’s circumstances. (Having been born near the start of a new decade myself, the two events always coincided for better or for worse.) In the case of the esteemed Miles Davis, it was the latter happening he was dealing with when he made “Tutu.” The brilliant trumpeter and jazz pioneer had just turned 60 years of age in ’86 and I have no doubt that he’d naturally taken an inventory of his career at that point. Much like Alexander the Great, he probably realized there were no more virgin territories for him to conquer but, instead of crying about it, he just set out to develop more territory to plant his flag on. He viewed his impending seventh decade as a golden opportunity to expand his own horizons, taking the innovative studio tools that were constantly transforming and rejuvenating R&B and funk in the 80s and melding them into his unique vision of the realm of modern jazz. In other words, Miles didn’t let growing old stop him from growing.

The album had initially been planned as an intriguing cooperative project between Davis and pop icon Prince but we’ll never know how that might’ve turned out because they couldn’t get their schedules to mesh. Instead, Miles paired up with the multi-instrumentalist/composer Marcus Miller (Marcus penned and arranged the majority of the songs) to create a jazz album that would be an homage to Desmond Tutu of South Africa. Significantly, the record was the first in Miles’ extensive catalog of work to utilize programmed drums and sampling devices. In the hands of someone else such a move could’ve resulted in a woeful disaster but with Davis having the final say on each track it wisely avoids the perilous pitfalls that could’ve doomed the endeavor.

By opening with the title tune Miles makes a bold statement about his frame of mind at 60. He hadn’t lost a step. “Tutu” features dynamic punches that herald a stately theme befitting the man who inspired millions worldwide. The number sustains a respectable Weather Report-ish atmosphere throughout in that there are a myriad of ear-attracting facets and incidental sounds going on to keep things from getting stale. Fierce synth accents punctuate the presentation repeatedly. Davis co-wrote the next song with Miller, “Tomaas.” A subtle but motivating funk action streaming underneath propels this tune impressively. It’s obvious that Miles’ trumpet has misplaced none of its tendency to mesmerize and his emphasis on spotlighting melody (not just on this track but characterizing the disc in general) makes it very accessible to a broad spectrum of individual jazz tastes. “Portia” follows and here Davis courageously adopts the most up-to-date trends in 20th century jazz at that time yet pushes them one step farther by lending his inimitable horn to the deep ambience the tune is meant to convey. Marcus’ spectacular work on both bass guitar and soprano sax will give you an idea of how talented this artist is and why Miles wanted to join forces with him. “Splatch” has a harder funk foundation that provides it with a playful, almost frivolous vibe. It’s pretty much just a joyous, spirited jam that lightens the mood.

George Duke and producer Tommy LiPuma distinguish George’s “Backyard Ritual,” allowing the album to present a refreshing change-of-pace moment midway through. The song’s mysterious onset leads to a strong rock beat with funky overtones to give it pizzazz. Once again Davis’ well-seasoned recognition of the role essential melody lines play in making jazz compatible to the average Joe’s sensibilities allows this tune to have universal appeal. The group Scritti Politti composed the next number, “Perfect Way.” It’s another example of Miles and Miller taking then-current R&B attitudes and manipulating them to erect a crisp, pristine track that could’ve been too sanitized if not for them detouring into shadowy alleyways, providing several aural surprises for the attentive listener. “Don’t You Lose Your Mind” offers a slight Jamaican groove that distinguishes it from what has come before. There’s an infectious, somewhat wild aspect lurking in this song that keeps you wondering what will happen next. The album closes with another tribute, “Full Nelson,” dedicated to the honorable Mr. Mandela. A bouncy funk drive establishes this tune as a true toe-tapper. I detect a delectable Sly Stone influence rumbling through the track that puts a smile on my mug every time I hear it.

I haven’t mentioned it much in this review but I assure you that Davis’ magnificent trumpet playing is as spectacular from the Alpha to the Omega on this record as it ever has been. The man was magic and his gift of holding you spellbound by his artistry hadn’t dimmed one iota at this juncture in his existence on Terra Firma. Some purists may have reservations about his using synths and machine-generated drums on “Tutu” but I have none. There are so many recordings available for those who prefer his more traditional jazz fare that those so inclined will never run out of material to drool over. I consider it a treat to hear how Miles creatively interpreted and incorporated technological advances in the musical arts toward the end of his life. He was showing us all that in music it’s no sin to be open to change as long as one maintains one’s core integrity. “Tutu” is a very cool record brimming over with integrity.