Cookin

This is a Super Audio Hybrid CD playable on Super Audio CD players and regular CD players.
Miles Davis Quintet: Miles Davis (trumpet); John Coltrane (tenor saxophone); Red Garland (piano); Paul Chambers (acoustic bass); Philly Joe Jones (drums).
Recorded at the Van Gelder Studio, Hackensack, New Jersey on October 26, 1956. Originally released on Prestige (7094). Includes liner notes by Ira Gitler.
In listening to the dynamic swing, seamless interplay and probing wit of "Blues By Five," you can ascertain the remarkable growth this band had achieved in less than a year. COOKIN' WITH THE MILES DAVIS QUINTET documents the last half of their final marathon sessions for Prestige. They'd initiated work on their Columbia debut 'ROUND ABOUT MIDNIGHT on October 27, 1955, and almost a year to the day later, this session fulfilled Miles' contractual obligations to Prestige.
MILES AHEAD beckoned in 1957, and so grew the myth of the shy, sensitive, introspective horn player. COOKIN' presents a more dynamic portrait of Miles' evolving art. Miles emerges from the opening tumult of Sonny Rollins' "Airegin," taunting The Rhythm Section (as they were already known) by slowly crafting phrases and marking off wide expanses of space, only to leap back into the maelstrom with long expressive lines and throttled cries before Coltrane comes tearing through. And listen to The Rhythm Section's delight in the man-eating tempo of "Tune Up," the big band fills and set-ups that stoke each soloist's furnace, and Philly Joe's electrifying rhythmic exchanges with Miles.
In addition, Miles--like Rollins and Monk--had cultivated a vast knowledge of popular songs, with a knack for unearthing those oddballs that lent themselves to a jazz interpretation. The Rhythm Section etches a deliberate, definitive lounge tempo for "When Lights Are Low," and their discrete contrapuntal flourishes allow Miles to practically escape the Earth's gravity (a retrofitted Coltrane does, and Garland, with his taciturn phrases and translucent block chords, sounds like he wants to disappear). And finally, the tender pang Miles imparts with his Harmon mute on "My Funny Valentine," altered the sound of the trumpet for all time.