Sometimes when one door closes, another one opens.
Few musicians embody that idea better than Marcus Miller.
Miller is one of the most influential bass players of his generation. Among musicians, all you have to do is say his name and it evokes a whole universe — the sound of the electric bass reshaping jazz, funk, and R&B.
Over the years he has worked with an extraordinary range of artists, from David Sanborn to Herbie Hancock, Aretha Franklin to Beyonce.
But the collaboration that cemented his reputation not just as a bassist, but as a producer with a real musical point of view, was his work with Miles Davis.
Marcus worked with Miles throughout the 80s, and famously co-produced the 1986 album Tutu, ushering in a bold new sound for the iconic trumpeter — a sound that blended synthesizers, funk grooves, and jazz improvisation in a way that helped redefine what modern jazz could be.
Miles Davis, of course, built a career on that very instinct — constantly searching for the next sound, the next musician, the next direction.
But as Miller recently told WBGO’s Pat Prescott, the chain of events that led to that collaboration began with something else entirely.
It began with losing a gig… and answering a phone call.
He told Pat:
“I was doing sessions in New York, playing with Roberta Flack. Luther (Vandross) and I were doing gigs with Roberta on the road. And one day on the way home from a gig, Roberta calls me over. We were on a plane and she calls me to her seat and she says, ‘I'm firing you and Luther.’
I go, ‘Why you firing us? We're doing a great job.’
You know, she says, ‘You guys are too expensive and you have no business playing with me anymore.’
You know, she must have gone over, uh, her, her finances with her accountant. Her accountant probably said, you gotta get rid of those two. I don't know. I was very young and wasn't really aware of that stuff, you know?
But she says, ‘Anyway, listen, I see you doing great things, Marcus. I see you not playing bass in anybody's band unless you've produced their album. I see you playing with the greats like Miles Davis.’
And I'm like - to myself - Miles Davis? This is 1979. Miles hasn't played a note since 1975.I don't even know if he's alive. She's just being nice as she fires me. You know what I mean?
But within a year, Pat, within the year Miles makes a comeback, or at least maybe two years Miles makes a comeback and I get a call, a random call. I'm on some session for a R&B group and the note says, call Miles.
I said, wow. I'd heard that maybe he was, you know, around. But I didn't believe it. It was Miles Davis.
He said, ‘Hey man, can you be at Columbia in a couple of hours?’
‘This really you?’
He said, ‘Yeah, motherf…’.
I said, ‘Okay. Okay’. That's Miles from what I heard. Within a couple hours I was in the studio with Miles Davis. You know what I mean? It was just a surreal experience.”
Marcus Miller answered the phone — and it changed the sound of jazz.
And in this year marking what would have been Miles Davis’s 100th birthday, you can’t help but wonder who he’d be calling today… searching for the future.
