Miles Davis Four & More: Live Set Documents One of Davis' Final Standards-Based Performances

Hear the Interior of Philharmonic Hall at Lincoln Center Come Alive: Mobile Fidelity's Numbered-Edition 180g LP Illuminates Venue Acoustics, Musicians' Phrasings

1/4" / 15 IPS analog master to DSD 64 to analog console to lathe

Given his gargantuan recorded output, Miles Davis seldom abandoned a conceptual vision in the studio, particularly after the turn of the 1960s. Which makes a live document such as Four & More all the more valuable for the manner in which it portrays the legendary trumpeter removed from thematic demands and interior confines, and instead letting loose onstage with a program of stellar material that he'd soon abandon in favor of experimentalism.

Part of Mobile Fidelity's Miles Davis catalog restoration series, Four & More engages with electrifying speed and palpable punch, the effort now claiming vastly improved imaging, deeper soundstaging, and startling clarity. Half-speed mastered from the original master tapes and pressed at RTI, this unsurpassed analog edition teems with the urgency demonstrated by Davis and his band's notes flooding the listener with an attack only possible from sound featuring full frequency extension, tremendous spacing, and you-are-there immediacy.

Recorded on February 12, 1964 in Philharmonic Hall at New York's Lincoln Center, Four & More bookends My Funny Valentine. Whereas the latter spotlights ballads, this thrilling souvenir is all about quick tempos, rushing solos, left-hook rhythms, and hard-bop grooves. Drawing largely on mid- and late-1950s material, Davis' accompanied by bassist Ron Carter, drummer Tony Williams, saxophonist George Coleman, and pianist Herbie Hancock approaches standards such as "So What," "Seven Steps to Heaven," and "Four" with biting tenacity and furious passion, the individual themes racing by as the collective barges in to take rapid, punctuation-asserting solos.

Few, if any, live Davis performances match the hurricane-generating intensity and dynamic aggressiveness captured here. One reason for the vigor? Davis waived he and his musicians' fees for the concert, taking place under the auspices of a political benefit, a decision that angered some of his sidemen. Whatever the cause, Hancock swings, Coleman flexes muscles, Carter bows instructive passages, and the 19-year-old phenom Williams throws down with breathtaking agility. Amidst the melodic tangents and galloping exchanges, the quintet retains gripping control, with eight-bar dialogues between the instrumentalists and positive vamps supplying cues and endings.