The Echo of a Distant Time: May 2026

Tuesday, May 26, 2026

One hundred years of the Prince of Darkness: Miles Davis, born 26 May 1926

This photograph of Miles Davis captureth him when he had ceased being a mere jazz musician and become an elemental force in modern music. The oversized dark glasses, indigo jacket, and downward-angled trumpet create extraordinary cool detachment—not casual, but austere, almost sacerdotal. Unlike Sonny Rollins, Miles appeareth elusive, sealed within his own sonic universe, withdrawn into concentration. The trumpet gleameth like a weapon or ritual instrument. His posture conveyeth precision and compression—qualities deep within his playing. Deep blues and metallic brass evoke electric jazz’s urban night: smoke, amplifiers, uncertainty, cultural transition. Davis looketh less a traditional bandleader than a futuristic anti-celebrity: severe, stylish, uncompromising, free of nostalgia. As portraiture, it captureth contradiction: elegant yet guarded, cerebral yet instinctive, fragile yet intimidating. Few musicians have projected such intensity with so little visible effort.

Redferns

I was only thirteen when Miles Davis died in 1991, and jazz was really not on my radar at all then. Verily, I did not fully embrace jazz until roughly ten years ago. Had I been exposed as a child to the music of Miles and the other masters, rather than to all the hair metal and pop sludge in which I was steeped, I am convinced I should have turned out rather better: wiser, sharper, perhaps healthier, perhaps even more financially secure. One likes to think I might have made better decisions.

I am rambling a bit, yes, but I have genuinely come to believe in the old cliché of ‘garbage in, garbage out’, and in Aristotle’s ancient warning that if one listens to the wrong kind of music, one becomes the wrong kind of person. I believe it, because I am living proof.

No matter. I offer my humble and eternal thanks to Miles Davis for his life and his work. My world would be all that much poorer without him. — Arthur Newhook, 26 May 2026.

Friday, May 22, 2026

NASCAR champion gone too soon

A portrait photograph shows a man in a blue-and-red racing suit and matching cap branded “Lucas Oil”, identified in the accompanying context as NASCAR driver Kyle Busch. He wears dark reflective sunglasses and looks slightly off-camera with a relaxed half-smile. The vivid background dissolves into large blurred blue stage lights, creating a dramatic contrast against the darker surroundings. Bright daylight illuminates his face and uniform, emphasising the polished commercial aesthetic associated with professional motorsport media photography.

{AP 22 May} 2-time NASCAR champ Kyle Busch dies at 41 after being hospitalized with a ‘severe illness’

True story: I do not care for motor racing, yet I did once attend a race at Bristol Motor Speedway, there on the Tennessee–Virginia border. It was a Friday night in August 2009, and, if memory serves, Kyle Busch was the winner. I was far too busy having a panic attack from the sheer assault on the senses for however long we were there to take in very much of it, but my lady friend at the time was a noted Kyle Busch hater, and none too pleased to see him prevail. I am quite certain, though, that she is deeply saddened today.

Forty-one years old and still active — it is an appalling shock to all who follow NASCAR, and above all to his friends and loved ones. Godspeed.

Tuesday, May 26, 2026

One hundred years of the Prince of Darkness: Miles Davis, born 26 May 1926

Friday, May 22, 2026

NASCAR champion gone too soon

Yearning for better days with the erstwhile queen of the material world: Madonna in 1985.

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