It’s fifty-three years since Miles Davis released his magnum opus, Bitches Brew, a stunning record of limitless imagination as Davis’ growing interest in electronic instruments manifested itself into an expansive, experimental rollercoaster. Shaking off the shackles of traditional jazz rhythms, Davis’ embraced unbridled improvisation, fusing jazz and rock in a bombastic manner. Delayed by the pandemic, London Brew was meant to serve as a fiftieth-anniversary celebration and reconstruction. Better late than never; some of the UK’s leading jazz lights capture Davis’s spirit.
Comprising a dozen members, including Nubya Garcia, Radio one presenter Benji B, Shabaka Hutchings and Tom Skinner of Sons of Kemet, and Dave Okumu of the Invisible, it’s a record that celebrates the diversity of London’s musical cultures. Recorded at Church Studios in London in December 2020 over three days, like Davis’s classic, producer Martin Terefe describes it as a “rockstar album”. After a period of no live shows, thanks to the pandemic, it feels like a reclamation of the collaborative power of jazz, as the twelve musicians created a sensory overload.
Paying homage to Davis’s classic is a near-impossible feat, and London Brew is clever in that it doesn’t masquerade as a reappropriation, instead celebrating and funnelling Davis’s spirit into something new. The musicians guiding light came from sketching prompts from Bitches Brew, with Davis’s original sessions fed into their ears by Benji B. Terefe, then slashed down twelve hours of material with no editing at all apart from deciding where to start and end a song.
London Brew bounces between jazz’s past and future, utilising electronics in a way that you imagine a modern-day Davis might have done. The electronics and the guttural-sounding strings provide an eerie opening of part one of the title track, which at over 23 minutes long, is a perhaps overly rambling epic. But there are many lovely touches, with Theon Cross’s tuba riding across psychedelic waves. Between moments of frenzied tensions, there are quieter pockets where Hutching’s squealing woodwind is given prominence. The highlight is an excellent saxophone section from Garcia, where she dovetails skillfully with the rhythm of the drums.
The second part starts with garage-style drum breaks from Skinner and Dan See, giving it a distinctly London flavour. Dave Okumu provides some shredding guitar licks, supplemented by Raven Bush’s scratching violin work. Nick Ramm showcases some exquisite sense of timing with his scatty piano lines, and Cross’s Tuba puffs away like a steam engine at the halfway mark. It’s a real rollercoaster, with some haunting lulls that feature some creepy twangs and rattles alongside the electronic aspects.
‘Miles Chases New Voodoo In The Church’ is a loose interpretation of Davis’s Hendrix homage. Okumu provides some suitably funky crackles from his guitar, and Garcia cleverly uses pedal effects to generate power from her sax. It’s trippy and futuristic, appropriately encapsulating the spirit Davis exuded in his original piece. ‘Nu Sha Ni Sha Nu Oss Ra’ sees Nikolaj Torp Larsen take centre stage with some lovely work on the melodica, tracing the saxophone lines skillfully, while Tom Herbert and Cross provide some punch from the bass and tuba, respectively.
Herbert and Cross combine brilliantly on ‘It’s One Of Those’, creating a stonking club beat that could easily fill a dancefloor. See, and Skinner provide some shifting, skittering tempo from behind the sticks, and Ramm’s intermittent piano notes provide a little wash of psychedelia. ‘Bassics’ is a semi-desolate interlude, reverb-heavy with its densely plucked bass as Garcia’s flute drones spookily over the top.
‘Mor Ning Prayers’ starts with a lounging piano line countered by a screeching electric hum. Okumu’s guitar dips in and out, initially howling inhumanely before returning stylishly for the track’s finale. Hutching’s distinctive sax work and the rhythm of the drums create a tight groove in the mid-section as the bass and the tuba interchange expertly. Cross and Herbert’s synchronicity is a highlight throughout, but Bush’s violin work steals the show on the finale, ‘Raven Flies Low’. Like Garcia, Bush utilises effect pedals, but what’s more impressive is the emotion he weaves, drifting from mournful to vibrant and eventually all-out frenzy. The different textures bubble together superbly, creating layers of melody and rhythm, and it’s a shame that the track outstays its welcome by a couple of minutes after reaching a seemingly perfect crescendo.
That’s the only criticism you could throw at the record, and over-indulgence is often a stick used to beat jazz with, but London Brew is only guilty of overspilling. However, it’s jazz how Davis would have intended it, improvised and without boundaries, brimming with skill and an element of chaos. Bitches Brew was credited with breathing new life into jazz, but London Brew demonstrates jazz is well and truly alive, with an abundance of talent ready to keep carrying the torch.
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