\n<\/p>\n
In 1985, I couldn\u2019t escape trumpeter Miles Davis. It seemed like he was everywhere. Raspy-voiced, hidden behind sunglasses, chewing gum, always intimidating.<\/p>\n
I first saw him in a commercial for Honda scooters as part of a multiyear campaign that included Grace Jones<\/a>, Lou Reed<\/a>, and Devo. In his spot<\/a>, Davis is leaning against a scooter wearing a full-length leather jacket and baggy pants and holding a trumpet. His one line speaks multitudes: \u201cI\u2019ll play first, and I\u2019ll tell you about it later\u2014maybe.\u201d<\/p>\n That fall, I watched him in an episode of Miami Vice<\/em> called \u201cJunk Love,\u201d in which he played an ill-fated pimp named Ivory Jones. A week later, there he was again playing at the start of a music video on MTV for the title track of the album Sun City<\/em> by Artists United Against Apartheid.<\/p>\n One of my all-time favorite songs came out that year as well, \u201cPerfect Way\u201d by synth pop\/funk group Scritti Politti. The following year, Davis released the album Tutu<\/em> with a personally beloved cover of \u201cPerfect Way.\u201d In the ensuing years, I understood the Miles Davis I discovered as a teenager was but one of many iterations he birthed in a life of perpetual innovation, reinvention, and controversy.<\/p>\n Miles Davis, July 1970<\/p>\n <\/span>Bill Allery\/New York Times Co.\/Getty Images<\/span><\/div>\n<\/figure>\n Twenty-five years after his death, people around the world, from St. Louis to Paris, New York to Tokyo, are seizing the centennial of Miles Davis\u2019s birth this month to decipher his enduring impact across genres of music, fashion, and politics. Record labels are rereleasing some of his most beloved recordings in expanded editions, including 1957\u2019s Birth of the Cool<\/em> and the legendary concert set Live at the Plugged Nickel<\/em> from 1965. Additionally, a Mick Jagger<\/a>\u2013produced feature about his affair with French actress Juliette Gr\u00e9co, Miles & Juliette,<\/em> is forthcoming, and jazz hubs such as Birdland, the Montreux Festival, and Jazz at Lincoln Center are paying homage to key periods in his creative oeuvre.<\/p>\n Dubbed the \u201cPrince of Darkness\u201d for a brooding presence onstage and aloof demeanor off it, it must be acknowledged that he was also a \u201cmotherfucker,\u201d a term he used often when talking about musicians he deeply admired. He was also infamous for disputes over recording credits throughout his career, and in later life was rebuked for physical abuse toward his wives, most famously by Pearl Cleage in her 1990 feminist landmark Mad at Miles: A Blackwoman\u2019s Guide to Truth.<\/em><\/p>\n<\/div>\n