okay, one more Francophile jam before we move on to NC's finest... of course, Miles spent a lot of time in France and, through his early career, was treated a hell of a lot better there than he was here. there, he was an artist, on par with Picasso. here, he was considered a thug, a lowlife. there, police would probably buy him a glass or bottle of wine. here, they shot him. But Miles thrived on adversity. he wasn't one of those cats who would expatriate to Europe just so he could escape the trappings of segregated clubs and audiences who began leaning more toward mop-topped Brits. (Abbey Lincoln still maintains that the Beatles killed jazz.) not that expatriating is a cowardly thing, but Miles would never back down from a fight. and his biggest battles, critically and socially, were at home.
however, when he was in France, schmoozing with the Art Elite, he did cut one fantastic album; a soundtrack for a film called "Ascenceur Pour L'Echafaud". i'm sure you'll recognize this, as it's been in every iPod we've owned at one point or another, and is never far from my mind on gray, rainy days.
also, sorry Fleet Foxes, this song features the singular greatest moments of big-room reverb EVER. Fleet Foxes come close, i love their cavernous mountain sound, but this is altogether more elegant, more lonely, and most affecting. soak it in, baby. i could listen to this song on repeat for hours.
hope you're happy tonight, and enjoying your well-deserved Big Meal.
LRV, b
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