The Autobiography MILES DAVIS

Prologue
Listen. The greatest feeling I ever had in my life—with my clothes on—was when I
first heard Diz and Bird together in St. Louis, Missouri, back in 1944.1 was eighteen
years old and had just graduated from Lincoln High School. It was just across the
Mississippi River in East St. Louis, Illinois.
When I heard Diz and Bird in B's band, I said, "What? What is this!?" Man, that shit
was so terrible it was scary. I mean, Dizzy Gillespie, Charlie "Yardbird" Parker,
Buddy Anderson, Gene Ammons. Lucky Thompson, and Art Blakey all together in
one band and not to mention B: Billy Eckstine himself. It was a motherfucker. Man,
that shit was all up in my body. Music all up in my body, and that's what I wanted to
hear. The way that band was playing music—that was all I wanted to hear. It was
something. And me up there playing with them.
I had already heard about Diz and Bird, was already into their music—especially
Dizzy's, with me being a trumpet player and all. But I was also into Bird. See, I had
one record of Dizzy's called "Woody 'n You" and a record of Jay McShann's with
Bird on it called "Hootie Blues." That's where I first heard Diz and Bird, and I
couldn't believe what they were playing. They were so terrible. Besides them I had
one record of Coleman Hawkins, one record of Lester Young, and one of Duke
Ellington with Jimmy Blanton on bass that was a motherfucker, too. That was it.
Those were all the records
I had. Dizzy was my idol then. I used to try to play every solo Diz played on that one
album I had by him. But I liked dark Terry, Buck Clayton, Harold Baker, Harry
James, Bobby Hackett, and Roy Eldridge a lot, too. Roy was my idol on trumpet
later. But in 1944 it was Diz.
Billy Eckstine's band had come to St. Louis to play at a place called the Plantation
Club, which was owned by some white gangsters. St. Louis was a big gangster town
back then. When they told B that he had to go around to the back door like all the
other black folks, he just ignored the motherfuckers and brought the whole band
through the front door. Anyway, B didn't take no shit off nobody. He would cuss and
knock a motherfucker out at the drop of a hat. That's right. Forget about the playboy
look and air he had about himself. B was tough. So was Benny Carter. They both
would drop anybody they thought was disrespecting them in a minute. But as tough
as Benny was—and he was—B was tougher. So these gangsters right there on the
spot fired B and brought in George Hudson, who had dark Terry in his band. Then B
took his band across town to Jordan Chambers' Riviera Club, an all-black club in St.
Louis, located on Delmar and Taylor—in a black part of St. Louis. Jordan Chambers,
who was the most powerful black politician back in them days in St. Louis, just told
B to bring the band on over.
So when word got around that they were going to play the Riviera rather than the
Plantation, I just picked up my trumpet and went on over to see if I could catch
something, maybe sit in with the band. So me and a friend of mine named Bobby
Danzig, who was also a trumpet player, got to the Riviera and went on in to try and
catch the rehearsals. See, I already had a reputation around St. Louis for being able to
play by that time, so the guards knew me and let me and Bobby on in. The first thing
I see when I got inside was this man running up to me, asking if I was a trumpet
player. I said, "Yeah, I'm a trumpet player." Then, he asked if I got a union card. I
said, "Yeah, I got a union card, too." So the guy said, "Come on, we need a trumpet
player. Our trumpet got sick." This guy takes me up on the bandstand and puts the
music in front of me. I could read music, but I had trouble reading what he put in
front of me because I was listening to what everybody else was playing.
That guy who ran up to me was Dizzy. I didn't recognize him at first. But soon as he
started playing, I knew who he was. And like I said, I couldn't even read the music—
don't even talk about playing —for listening to Bird and Diz.
But shit, I wasn't alone in listening to them like that, because the whole band would
just like have an orgasm every time Diz or Bird played—especially Bird. I mean Bird
was unbelievable. Sarah Vaughan was there also, and she's a motherfucker too. Then
and now. Sarah sounding like Bird and Diz and them two playing everything! I mean
they would look at Sarah like she was just another horn. You know what I mean?
She'd be singing "You Are My First Love" and Bird would be soloing. Man, I wish
everybody could have heard that shit!
Back then Bird would play solos for eight bars. But the things he used to do in them
eight bars was something else. He would just leave everybody else in the dust with
his playing. Talk about me forgetting to play, I remember sometimes the other
musicians would forget to come in on time because they was listening to Bird so
much. They'd be standing up there on the stage with their mouths wide open.
Goddamn, Bird was playing some shit back then.
When Dizzy would play the same thing would happen. And also when Buddy
Anderson would play. He had that thing, that style that was close to the style that I
liked. So I heard all that shit back in 1944 all at once. Goddamn, them motherfuckers
was terrible. Talk about cooking! And you know how they were playing for them
black folks at the Riviera. Because black people in St. Louis love their music, but
they want their music right. So you know what they were doing at the Riviera. You
know they were getting all the way down.
B's band changed my life. I decided right then and there that I had to leave St. Louis
and live in New York City where all these bad musicians were.
As much as I loved Bird back then, if it hadn't been for Dizzy I wouldn't be where I
am today. I tell him that all the time and he just laughs. Because when I first came to
New York he took me everywhere with him. Diz was funny back in those days. He's
still funny now. But back then he was something else. Like, he'd be sticking his
tongue out at women on the streets and shit—at white women. I mean, I'm from St.
Louis and he's doing that to a white person, a white woman. I said to myself, "Diz
must be crazy." But he wasn't, you know? Not really. Different, but not crazy.

graduated закінчив
across поперек
mention згадувати
himself самостійно (він)
was all up було все
into в
especially особливо
record запис
Besides до того ж
idol кумир
used використовується
trumpet труба
later пізніше
place місце
owned створений, належить
go around обходити
folks
ignored ігнорується
brought принести
through через
Anyway у всякому разі
nobody ніхто
knock стукати
drop крапля
Forget забути
tough жорсткий
disrespecting неповага
spot пляма
located розташоване
powerful потужний
to bring приносити
rather скоріше
picked up підхопив
catch улов
rehearsals репетиція
reputation репутація
being able бути спроможним
guards охоронці
inside всередині
union союз
got sick захворів
bandstand
in front of me переді мною
trouble біда
recognize розпізнати
especially особливо
unbelievable неймовірно
sounding звучання
horn духовий інструмент (в контексті - дудка)
leave everybody else in the dust стерти всіх в пил
forgetting забуваючи
was close to було близьким до
Terrible жахливий
all the way down
decided вирішив
sticking прилипання
tongue язик
Different інший