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| 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.
Copyright 2026, Arthur Newhook.
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