John McLaughlin

Playing for Miles Davis, Bitches Brew, Thoughts on Orgasmic Energy, and Falconry

:: for The Stranger

Now very into falconry. (photo: Ina McLaughlin)

In February 1969, guitarist John McLaughlin moved from Yorkshire, England, to New York City to play in a band called Lifetime. Days into his stay, he met Miles Davis and found himself in CBS's 30th Street Studio laying down tracks that would end up on Davis's seminal album In a Silent Way. McLaughlin's playing was dexterous and sentient, running with and finishing off Miles's directives. He hooked into the signatures and refracted the shadow Miles cast against the wall.

Proficient in the Indian raga, McLaughlin shape-shifts his notes and modes in a kind of ESP, forming whatever image the music is thinking of. A lizard? McLaughlin dials in lizardous harmonic distortion, and throws it into delay. Water? He goes wah/chorus for gills, in fifths. A falcon? Phaser, scanning the horizon through a wide angle lens, seeing what the falcon sees.

McLaughlin would go on to become one of Miles’s go-to players through the years, establishing his sound amongst the greats. (Rolling Stone ranks him 49th in its list of "100 Greatest Guitarists of All Time.")

McLaughlin spoke. He sounded relaxed, and regal.

Walk me back to February 1969, when you got to New York. How did you meet Miles? What was it like in the beginning with him?

Miles has been a hero and a guru to me since I was 16 years old. I arrived in New York to play with Tony Williams, who was Miles's drummer at that time but was leaving to form Lifetime with Larry Young and myself. The thing was, Tony had to finish the week with Miles at Club Baron in Harlem, which was where we planned to rehearse during the day. I met Miles that same night, and the next day he invited me to come to the CBS Studio to record the following day. It was mind-blowing for me.

That recording was In a Silent Way, and it was maybe the most important day of my life. The title track was the first up, and it's a Joe Zawinul tune. Since Zawinul didn't know I was on the date, he photocopied the piano score for me. Miles didn't like the way it was going and asked me to play it alone on guitar. I said, "It'll take a minute to put the chords and melody together since I only had a piano part." He said, "Play it like you don't know how to play guitar." [Laughs]

I was nervous but threw caution to the wind, and I also threw out all Zawinul's chords and just played it in E. Miles had the red light on already and, frankly, I had no idea what I was doing. Miles loved it, putting it on side one as the opener and the finisher.

How did Miles communicate to you in the studio? Were you free to play whatever? Or was it a strictly directed thing?

Miles was a master onstage and in the studio. That said, he loved his musicians, and he wanted them to be free while at the same time moving in the general direction he established, more by saying what not to do rather than what to do. He definitely wanted his musicians to feel free to express themselves.

What was it like in the studio for the sessions that turned out to be Bitches Brew? Did it feel epic at the time? What state of mind were you in? What state of mind was Miles in?

I didn't think like that at all, as far as epic-ness was concerned. I was just excited to be on the recording with Miles. We all were. Of course it was clear that Miles was experimenting, but then Miles had been experimenting since the mid-'50s. As for myself, I didn't think I was playing anything ground-shaking, I was just absorbing everything that was happening in the studio and watching how Miles was able to get music out of his musicians that they didn't know they could play. It was truly amazing.

What did you do to prepare for those sessions?

By the time of Bitches Brew, Miles was inviting me to come over to his house regularly, and I always took my guitar. He would play a chord on the piano and ask me what did I hear? Could I hear some kind of riff? Something like that, and we'd talk about this and that. In that sense, I was definitely more prepared for the Bitches Brew recording than Silent Way.

I’d say he was definitely able to extract riffs from you.

I mentioned the Silent Way instructions because Miles was famous for his cryptic remarks in the studio. When he told me to play like I don't know how to play the guitar, I can tell you that the musicians thought that this was a special one for the annals.

What’s something else you all did outside of music?

One time I took Miles to see the Monterey Pop movie because he'd never seen Jimi Hendrix play. In the movie house while watching Jimi, he kept saying, "Damn, daaamn!!!" [Laughs]

Miles seemed like a multi-faceted personality. I’m sure there were layers to the relationship, like the music.

He was like a godfather to me. A really demanding leader, but honest. You always knew where you were with Miles. One other thing, in those days, in 1969, it was really hard to make ends meet, and he would always ask me if I was eating and was I okay with my rent. Then, without even waiting for an answer, he'd stuff a $100 bill in my pocket. He really cared.

Your playing on "Black Satin/What If/Agharta Prelude Dub" is orgasmic. Not to freak you out or anything. Your playing conveys orgasmic energy. How do you do this? How are you able to play so transcendently, so subconsciously? Easy question I know.

I really don't know how to answer that. [Laughs] No one has ever phrased it that way before. I take it as a compliment. There is without a doubt a certain sensuality in this jazz music, but then I believe that all music should integrate both body and soul, and for that, rhythm is such a magical thing. It kind of unites everybody all at once.

So you don’t have an orgasmic setting on your amp or your signal chain?

This secret must stay with me for now.

Is there falconry involved? Are you a falconry guy? That would describe everything. Your playing enables the listener to see what an animal sees. Such as a falcon. It would all make sense if you were into falconry, and had this deep connection to falcons. I won’t take no for an answer.

Unfortunately, falconry is not involved. But I see where you’re coming from. Maybe it would help my playing. [Laughs] Do you know any nice falcons? Hopefully, the bird wouldn’t mistake my fingers for food.

Has your guitar playing changed over the years? Despite the lack of falconry.

Every day I learn something. Like today, learning that I’ve been missing out on falconry [laughs]. It may not be much, but over a period of time, we change and evolve as human beings. Since it’s my personal belief that I cannot be one way in life and another way in music, how I evolve and change as a human being will necessarily change my music. My life has been and is still today dedicated to music in general and the guitar in particular. So I work and discover new ways constantly. It'll be like this till I fall down and never get up.

You've said, "In fleeting, unexpected moments, music arrives - a riff, a chord progression, a rhythmic fragment." Why do you think this is?

That's a deep question, and I don't know the answer. It's not logical. In one moment there's nothing, and then there's something. It's kind of like thoughts. We don't know where they come from. It's all part of the great mystery of existence, and I really don't have an explanation, but this is why I've been involved in yoga and meditation since the late 1960s, to address these fundamental questions of life.

What kinds of guitar or guitars do you like to play live? Do you have a favorite?

My current performing guitar is a Godin special based on his Freeway SA model. It's a fine instrument. I've been playing Godin instruments for about seven years now. Over the years, I've had some great guitars, and I still have a small collection at home. An old Les Paul Custom, a White Stratocaster, a Paul Reed Smith and J 200. The Godin is special since it has a good MIDI captor built in, and this is useful for archiving and preparing scores.

What’s your setup in the studio? Feel free to get geeky.

My setup in the studio is the same as my live setup. Over the past few years, I've been using a Mesa-Boogie V-Twin pre-amp. I used Mesa amps for years in the 1970s. Recently, I tried out a Seymour Duncan Twin tube pre-amp, and it's good. There are two more pedals in my rig: an MXR delay and an MXR chorus for harmonic work.

Your album To the One is a tribute to Coltrane's A Love Supreme. Or not exactly a tribute, but you used A Love Supreme as a muse or blueprint of sorts?

I had no intention of making an homage to Coltrane. It happened when the music arrived in my mind. There was something in the music that reminded me of the time in 1965 when I heard A Love Supreme for the first time. Having read about the life of Coltrane, I found some parallels in my own life. There was also the time I woke up in the middle of the night shortly after I'd finished writing the music, and all the liner notes were in my mind, along with all the song titles. It was an unusual experience, and I recalled the events of 45 years ago when I heard Coltrane's recording for the first time, and the momentous event that it was to me.