Why James Murphy thought Miles Davis was “tediously populist”
Miles Davis is certainly on the shortlist of the 20th century’s most revered and influential musicians, but he didn’t achieve that status by suffering fools or limiting his social circle to sycophants. In order to become the coolest cat to ever do it, you have to be willing to talk some smack and hear it back; to be brutally honest about your opinions.
In Davis’s own autobiography, he writes about his 1970 tour in support of the legendary Bitches Brew album, when he was handed the indignity of having to open for the somewhat vanilla Steve Miller Band on certain dates. “Steve Miller didn’t have shit going for him,” Miles bluntly wrote of the experience. “So, I’m pissed because I got to open for this non-playing motherfucker just because he had one or two sorry-ass records out.”
Even the most devoted Steve Miller apologists weren’t likely to confront Miles Davis about that passage. If anything, you’re more likely to seriously question your own Steve Miller fandom when somebody on the level of Miles Davis calls your guy a “sorry-ass cat.”
So, what happens when the tables are turned, and a widely respected musician dares to climb a hill and proclaim a not-so-flattering viewpoint about Miles himself? Is that musician brave for his willingness to die on said hill, or should he rightly be shunned as an attention-seeking prick spouting sacriligious bile?
Twenty years ago, James Murphy—the mastermind behind LCD Soundsystem—decided to “go there,” for lack of a better phrase. When interviewed by Fader magazine for a mostly fluffy 2005 piece about the lasting legacy of Miles Davis in 21st century music, Murphy chose not to align with fellow interviewees like Damon Albarn, John Legend, or Madlib, all of whom sung the man’s praises.
“I’m not a big Miles guy,” Murphy said, practically setting off a record-scratch sound effect in every reader’s mind. “Everybody goes ‘blah blah blah, Bitches Brew,’ but it’s not really my thing. I just always found him in-between — marginally unpleasant and tediously populist and not quite funky enough for me and not quite beautiful enough for me.”
James Murphy is going to be turning 56 in 2026, and he has the benefit of a long and decorated career in the rearview mirror now. So if he were to shit-talk a sacred cow tomorrow, it might rightly lead to a lot of people taking those views on board out of respect for Murphy’s work and credentials. Back in the summer of 2005, however, when he offered up his “meh” statement on Miles Davis, LCD Soundsystem were still touring their debut album. Murphy was a popular figure on the scene; the founder of DFA Records and a key character in the new, as-yet-unnamed universe of New York “indie sleaze.” But he just as easily could have been a flavour of the moment. Was he really gonna use his newly acquired 15 minutes to throw darts at Miles fucking Davis?
“His cool stuff I find not that different from the California cool stuff, which is just plain silly and posture-y,” Murphy continued, entering full hot-take mode. “His crazy stuff I find not as crazy or interesting as Ornette Coleman; his spiritual stuff has not touched me like Alice Coltrane or Pharaoh Sanders. I’d rather hear Sly Stone than Bitches Brew. I feel like he’s the Emperor’s New Jazz Hero; it’s like if you say you don’t like him, you’re some kind of heathen.”
Was James Murphy the secret nephew of Steve Miller? Having a violently contrarian opinion wasn’t unusual for a hipster tastemaker in 2005, I suppose, but this felt like a personal vendetta.
“[Davis] set himself up very suavely as an icon, but I’m not that interested in iconography really,” Murphy added, suggesting that it might be the hero worship of Miles Davis that bothered him more than anything. “It’s like, if the Velvet Underground weren’t that good, it would just be Lou Reed. But they were that good — just plain old that good — and Lou Reed made songs that were some of the greatest pop songs in history. I’m sure I’m going to get fucking hate-mail for this, but Miles Davis just always felt neither here nor there for me.”
Murphy probably got more silent eye-rolls than hate-mail at the time; yelling back at him wouldn’t have felt worth the effort in the pre-social-media age. It would be interesting to hear if James’s feelings have evolved over the past 20 years, though. It would also be doubly interesting to imagine what Miles Davis might have had to say about LCD Soundsystem.
