Review by Des Cowley.
SORRY MILES by LIBOR ŠMOLDAS – (BVAK Records, CD and digital release)
I can only imagine Czech guitarist Libor Šmoldas had his tongue firmly in his cheek when he titled his new album Sorry Miles, a loving tribute – or apology of sorts – to Miles Davis, designed to coincide with the 100th anniversary of the great trumpeter’s birth in 1926.
I confess I’m no expert on jazz in the Czech Republic. But Šmoldas appeared on my radar a few months back, via his exceptional playing on Sydney keyboardist Darren Heinrich’s hard-grinding Riddle Diddle: the Prague Sessions, an album that summoned the classic Hammond organ/guitar outings of the sixties: Jimmy Smith/Wes Montgomery, Baby Face Willette/Grant Green, or Jack McDuff/George Benson.
Šmoldas’s clean, fluid lines made me want to investigate further. It turns out he boasts a raft of Australian connections, having taught at various workshops here; toured and played with a bunch of local players, some of whom – Ingrid James, Michelle Nicolle, Hetty Kate, Darren Heinrich, Sam Zerna, and Nick Haywood – he’s invited to tour Europe, and perform with him.
Šmoldas’s current project – his twelfth album to date – came about when he was researching Miles, and found himself intrigued by stories surrounding some of Miles’s best-known compositions, alluding to the fact they’d been penned by others.
So, rather than simply covering Miles’ compositions, Šmoldas elected to take the road less travelled, zeroing in on songs closely associated with (and mostly credited to) Davis but ostensibly written by others. Some of these include: ‘Four’ and ‘Tune Up’ (both credited to Miles, but believed to have been written by Eddie ‘Cleanhead’ Vinson); ‘Dig’ (again credited to Davis, but written by Jackie McLean); and ‘Donna Lee’ (originally credited to Charlie Parker, disputed and claimed by Miles, but in all likelihood by Parker). You get the picture.
It’s a confusing mish-mash of truth and counter truth. But however you choose to dice it, what remains incontestable is that these are dyed-in-the-wool, timeless classics.
Šmoldas – working with a quartet comprising pianist Mikuláš Pokorný, bassist Tomáš Baroš and drummer Jesse Simpson – also opted to sprinkle a few of his own compositions, directly inspired by Miles, throughout the album.
Sorry Miles opens with the title track, a low-key, dreamy amble that gently sets the scene. But things ramp up with ‘Dig’, a knotty, shuffle-boil piece that calls for rapid-fire guitar, dispensed over trenchant bass and scattershot percussion. Pokorný’s solo, when it arrives, teems with melodic ideas, recalling the buoyant, swinging groove of players like Wynton Kelly. Next up is Šmoldas’s ‘Squarehead’, which leans into a Pat Metheny-like congenial vibe, all sunshine and warm breeze. ‘Donna Lee’ takes a surprise twist. Rather than emulate the break-neck speed of Charlie Parker’s original, Šmoldas dials down the tempo, teasing out its gorgeous, underlying melody; Pokorný’s even inserts a Monk-like quote, his tinkling notes languid and luminous. ‘Richard’s Regret’, another Šmoldas original, takes a leaf out of the bop handbook, its brisk, jaunty contours propelled by Tomáš Baroš’s driving bass, over which Šmoldas metes out a welter of sprightly, bustling notes.
Šmoldas eases gently into the classic ‘Four’, adopting the relaxed groove of Miles’s original 1954 recording (rather than the better-known, furiously accelerated take recorded in concert in 1964). It’s a leisurely stroll, lit up by Pokorný’s sparkling piano, and Šmoldas’s effortless delivery. The album ends with one of Miles’s most haunting pieces, ‘Smooch’ (originally credited to Charles Mingus and Miles, but in fact based on Mingus’s ‘Weird Nightmare’) which has been covered by dozens of musicians. Šmoldas approaches it as a softly-spoken sashay, the quiet reverb of his strings – played solo – carrying the load, injecting the piece with warmth and sentiment.
Given this deeply-felt sincerity and resolve, I wondered about Šmoldas’s relationship to Miles’s music. When I put it to him, he responds:
“Miles’s music has been with me ever since I started listening to jazz in my early teens. Even before I knew who he was or when he lived, his music spoke to me immediately.
The Steamin’, Cookin’, Relaxin’ and Workin’ albums were constantly playing in my room, and even now I can still sing along with most of the solos from memory. Whenever I need inspiration on stage, I often think: ‘Play like Miles’ — stop thinking and focus on the sound, the melody, and the feeling.”
Despite its piss-take title, Sorry Miles is an album genuinely suffused with a deep love for Miles and his music, especially the early fifties post-bop inflected sorties, including the first great quintet with Coltrane and Red Garland. But rather than emulate the originals, Šmoldas has given these pieces a sparse makeover, stripping the melodies back to their essential core, and re-imagining them for guitar. There is a delicate weave to this music; it’s rife with glittering, flowing lines whose lineage can be traced back to the work of guitar greats like Kenny Burrell, Wes Montgomery, and Jim Hall.
Šmoldas’s deep-dive into Miles’s music – foregrounded in sound, melody and feeling – forms a fitting tribute to mark the legendary trumpeter’s centenary.