People of Africa and of African descent have a certain indigenous thing that lets us say this in our music, but if you travel the world, you will find out that there are a lot of other people out there that can play our music.
[Editor's Note: Cymbalism is an All About Jazz column featuring excerpts from an upcoming autobiography on the late, great percussionist Don Alias, co-written by Melanie Futorian, his companion for the last seven years of his life. This installment covers Alias' work on trumpeter Miles Davis
who actually called me for that unforgettable Bitches Brew session. Man, when I walked into the studio and I saw the Bitches Brew personnel I knew it was going to be amazing. There was a percussionist friend of mine,Jumma Santos whom I had gotten on the gig with Nina Simone
. I knew from the first note that it was going to change musical history and everyone's concept of Miles.
Everyone loved Miles' ballads, like "Funny Valentine." Oh, he played so pretty on those, but here comes Bitches Brew, a potpourri of conjured-up rhythms, sounds, textures and different electronics. Thank God Miles wanted to use percussion.
The Bitches Brew session lasted three days, starting around ten in the morning. I ended up playing regular drums on the session for "Miles Runs The Voodoo Down." I'd been practicing a drum rhythm that Gene Perla
had taught me while I was living with him. Chris Hills, a great bassist who was friends with Gene, had taught him that rhythm. It was a New Orleans funky kind of rock and roll beat. I'd been practicing this beat and had it down.
Miles called "Miles Runs the Voodoo Down," but the drummers weren't getting it, which caused a little ruffling of nerves in the studio. Miles called it again and on the third try he stopped it. Until then, every tune had been a first take. Everyone got a little nervous and I was sitting there saying to myself that Gene's rhythm I had been practicing would be just perfect for the tune. I took it upon myself to say, "Wait a minute Miles. I got a rhythm for you that would be great for this tune."
People started shuffling, looking around at each other waiting to see how Miles would react to this new guy stopping the session. Miles just looked over and directed me to the drum tier telling me to lay out the rhythm. When I finished playing he just said, "Show Jack," so I started to show Jack DeJohnette. It was really just one of those simple rhythms, you know, but you had to have some kind of weird coordination to get it right. Jack couldn't get it, so Miles looked over at me and said, "Stay there." I sat behind the drum set and played rhythm on "Miles Runs The Voodoo Down," a tune on what became a gold album. Oh boy, oh boy! I was in seventh heaven, ladies and gentlemen, seventh heaven.
After the Bitches Brew session, I continued touring and recording with Nina and she put me on salary. At that time to be put on salary was considered a kind of feather in your hat because it meant that you still got paid even when you weren't working. Then it happened in '69. I got the call to play with Miles Davis. Needless to say, all hell broke loose with Nina. Of course all kinds of feelings surfaced within me because I was extremely loyal to her and respected Nina for teaching me so much. Then again, it was Miles Davis.
Nina called up Miles and cursed him for stealing her drummer. I lost contact with her for quite some time because she wouldn't have anything to do with me. I had been her musical director as well, but I think that deep down she understood why I went with Miles. She was mad though. Mad to the point that Miles would call me up and rasp, "Don, get that bitch off my back."
I went to Miles' first rehearsal with a drum set because I thought he had hired me to play drums after that Bitches Brew session. When I walked in lugging my drum set, Miles looked at me and said."Don, what are you doing with that? I can't find anyone to play percussion like you, and I already got two drummers. I'm teaming you with another percussionist."