But let them have their staid museum jazz. In the meantime, a lot remained to be said about this metamorphosis: Bits and pieces were gathered, insight came more frequently by way of our greatest critics (Eshun, Reynolds, Toop), re-issues were finally released, receiving rapturous words of praise, and yet the music still was something of a mystery. This is the main reason Paul Tingen's book is invaluable. Through interviews with all the important collaborators of this period we get an intimate picture of how this strange music came into being. The book is very strong when Tingen describes the process of conceptualising by Miles and his idea man du jour, his choice of players, the way recording sessions unfold, and just letting the protagonists say how it went, what they felt.

Inevitably this turns to a discussion on who Miles Davis was, what moved him, what his goals were. Again his band members give the great quotes and build a surprising picture of an intelligent, sweet, somewhat shy man who really cared for his musicians, for music in general, and who willingly sacrificed his ego if it made the music stronger. But Miles is also a trickster. If one thing is made clear, it's that he quiet consciously did not want to get caught by expectations, not in life, not in music. "I have to change, it's like a curse," he once declared like a shape-shifter out of a myth. The witnesses give a rather complete portrait of the man (who could also be a demon), but Tingen adds his own interpretation of events. First of all through his personal fascination with Zen, secondly a more psychological approach. To a certain extent he makes good cases: Miles was a bit of a riddler with a sharp gift for emptying sound, the psychological interpretation of his retirement in the years 1975-1980 sounds like a believable mix of addictive personality traits and physical deterioration, but it also somehow feels a bit too neat.