1
Let's try it.
- Ready for sound?
- Yeah. Always.
There you go.
- Give me that blue tape.
- You know the fucking mystery.
All right.
That's what it's about.
- Yeah? Well, that's... That's... That's...
- Hey.
That's right.
I need some tea. Something for my throat.
My throat sounds scratchy.
Is that chair going to be
all right for your hip?
- Yeah.
- Okay. We getting close here?
- Almost.
- All right.
Speed the spool up.
Videotape forward there.
Okay, wait, wait. This one right here.
Stop it. Stop it right there.
- Agharta?
- That's it.
Let me see.
Osaka, Japan. 1975.
- Funky.
- Yeah.
Well... Well, cut the sound down.
So, Miles, I know it's always
go forward, move ahead.
And I don't want to just go down
that whole litany of things.
The drugs, women, your muse.
But if we can go back a bit, for context,
and explore
your earlier stuff, modal jazz,
- and its influence...
- I don't like that word, "jazz."
Don't... Don't call it "jazz," man.
- That's some made-up word.
- All right.
Trying to box somebody in.
Don't call my music "jazz."
All right.
- It's social music.
- Okay.
Social music. Perfect.
Well, what made you stop
in the first place?
I didn't have...
I didn't have nothing to say.
I just didn't have nothing to say.
Well, what were you doing all that time?
A lot of shit,
it had nothing to do with music.
Miles Davis, five years,
no playing at all. I mean, it's...
How did you find your way back to it?
You know. A lot of shit.
A lot of shit goes through your mind
when you're quiet, you know.
You have a lot of thoughts.
And they can sometimes be fighting
each other. You know, like a war.
And I'm a Gemini, so I'm...
I'm two people anyway, you know?
I was born modal. This and that.
Then someday you sit there
and something click.
And that's it. You start playing.
That's it.
Are you getting...
Are you getting some of this?
Guys, for fuck's sake, are we ready yet?
I've been ready.
Then why did nobody let me know,
for Christ's sake, if you're ready?
All right. I'm ready.
In three, two...
In 1975, one of the most
prolific voices in music
went silent for five years,
- leaving the world to...
- Man, you ain't no Walter Cronkite.
If you're going to tell a story,
come with some attitude, man.
Don't, you know...
Don't be all corny with this shit.
All right, well, you are the artist, Miles.
How would you say it?
Shit, that fucking tape. Fuck's sake!
Lose this motherfucker!
Go, go, go, go, go!
Make a right! Go right!
Shit! Is that him?
Shit! Turn! Turn!
Shit, it stalled! Get out! Go, go, go!
Miles, get out!
Jesus Christ, go!
- My music!
- Don't go back for it! No! No!
Miles!
At precisely three minutes to 1:00,
Jack Johnson...
Johnson is always the first to enter.
So seriously does he take this ritual...
Mr. Davis, if you could
just open the door for a moment.
While outside, hundreds unable
to buy tickets await the outcome.
Jeffries bears the reputation of being
the strongest man ever to enter the ring.
The fuck you looking at?
What?
Don't play around with your life, junkie.
I fronted you the coke.
Do you know what that means?
Fuck you, Mack. Get in line.
It's all on film for the world to see.
High overhead, a desert sun scorches...
The temperature is rising
and so are tempers.
The bell rings for round 15.
A vicious uppercut
and three stinging lefts!
Jeffries goes down!
Phil Schaap with you on WKCR-FM New York,
the Miles Davis festival.
That was the seminal So What
from Kind of Blue, 1959.
That's one for the time capsule, folks.
That's one they'll be talking about
in 1, 000 years.
- The one you'll save from a burning building.
- This motherfucker.
The culmination. The mountaintop.
Over 100 records, and now silence.
Five years is just too long.
The world misses you, Miles.
Please, come back.
WKCR-FM.
Yeah, it's Miles Davis.
Put Phil Schaap on.
- Really?
- Yeah, it's really me. Put him on.
Yeah. Okay, okay. Sure.
Really?
My goodness, folks, I believe
we have the Miles Davis on the line.
Mr. Davis, is this really you?
- Yeah, it's me.
- What an honor.
- I was just telling my listeners...
- Listen, Schaap. Listen.
You talk too goddamn much, man.
Time capsule?
Time capsule is for old shit.
Dead shit, okay?
And I missed on Kind of Blue.
Missed? But Mr. Davis,
I think people would say
it's a masterpiece.
How exactly did you miss?
Hey, this ain't an interview, okay?
Man, if you tape this, I'll kill you.
You got it?
- Yes, sir.
- Good.
Yes, sir. I didn't mean
to upset you, Mr. Davis. I'm sorry if I...
Nah. Nah. You know, forget it, man.
Listen, play me some of that
Sketches of Spain.
Solea.
This one's for you, Mr. Davis.
Solea from Sketches of Spain.
Frances.
Frances.
Excuse me, man,
do you know if he's in or not?
How should I know?
Mr. Davis, just a moment of your time.
I've been at your front door
for some time now.
I feel sure you're in there.
George Butler's office.
- It's Miles.
- Yes, sir.
- Hello, Miles.
- My check didn't come today, George.
Where's my money? 20, 000?
You trying to piss me off, man?
Of course not,
but where is the session tape?
We can't release more money until...
- It's the same bullshit.
- Until Columbia gets that new music.
20, 000 is chump change
compared to the business we're going to do.
I know there's gold
on that session tape, man.
Let's get you into fighting form again
and start working on that comeback.
Hey, I didn't go nowhere, George.
Now you want some music,
send me my fucking money.
Fine...
Mr. Davis, if you could just
open the door for a moment...
- What?
- Mr. Davis,
I'm sorry to take up your time.
My name is Dave Braden,
Rolling Stone magazine.
I'm here to do your comeback story.
- Okay, move back a little bit...
- Yeah.
Get off my motherfucking...
Motherfucker!
Hey, there's no need for that. Fuck!
Open this fucking door!
Motherfucker!
- Hey!
- Hey, calm down, Mr. Davis!
Hey, open this goddamn...
You lost your fucking mind?
Crazy motherfucker!
I'm not playing with your ass!
Hello?
Open this door, God damn it!
You better not be touching
nothing in there, motherfucker!
Open the goddamn door!
Yeah, yeah, yeah.
Inside the master's disheveled lair,
rumor becomes reality.
Jazz's Howard Hughes reviled and revealed.
Open the fucking...
All right. I'm coming. I'm coming.
All right, Mr. Davis,
I'm going to open the door,
but I need you to calm down.
There's no need for violence like that.
Open the door!
- Mr. Davis. Please.
- Get the fuck out of my house!
- Get the fuck out of my house!
- Just... Just relax!
You going the wrong way, motherfucker!
Listen, there's no need for that.
I'm just here to speak to you.
Shit! Shit!
Columbia!
Your record company set it up.
- Columbia?
- Yeah, I'm just a writer, man.
Can you drive, motherfucker?
Prick.
Open the door.
- What?
- Open the door.
- What's that?
- You mind?
Man, take that fucking thing
off my dashboard.
Irish motherfucker.
Let's go.
There... There he is! Miles!
Miles!
Look, I think we just
got off on the wrong foot.
I just need a little background.
I mean, I could write some bullshit
out of a magazine,
but I'd rather hear it
in your own words, you know?
Miles Davis' story. My words.
That would be great.
Go right.
Okay. I was born.
I moved to New York, met some cats,
made some music,
did some dope, made some more music.
Then you came to my house.
That's it?
Great. I guess I'll fill in
the blanks later.
It's what all you writing motherfuckers
do anyway, right?
Right turn.
Wait, we're going to Columbia?
Pull in right there.
I'll just wait down here.
Bring your ass out of my car!
Shit.
Miles?
Don't send people to my house
to write some dumb fucking article.
Write a check, George. I'll wait.
Hold it a second, Miles.
I didn't send anybody to...
- Here, take your boy back.
- Hey!
- I didn't send anybody to your house, Miles.
- Okay, guys...
You send this motherfucker to my house
to write some comeback story?
I've never laid my eyes on him.
Who are you?
Dave Braden.
Rolling Stone magazine.
April, get me Jann Wenner
at Rolling Stone.
Yes, sir.
I'm not sure Jann himself
actually knows if I'm here.
And why is that?
There's a source at Columbia,
I won't say who,
who told me about Miles' session
and said you guys were
probably already long lead
with the whole, you know,
comeback, promotional thing.
Okay, you see this bullshit?
- This is what I'm talking about.
- Miles...
- Hey, can I say something here?
- You can get out!
I do a session. Y'all already
got it going out all over the wire.
That was almost a year ago.
So what?
Y'all can't wait to saddle me back up again.
The fucking comeback.
How many records I cut for you?
And I can't take some fucking time off?
Of course you can. And you have.
And now you have new material,
and we're all incredibly excited about it.
That's right. My material.
My session tape.
- And if I don't wanna give it to you...
- Guys.
- Guys, can I get in here a sec?
- Ken.
No, it's okay. I got it.
Ken Schwinn, A&R.
Now, Miles, as you know,
you're under contract here,
and we paid for that session.
So, we actually own that tape
and whatever music might be on it.
Legally. And I don't mean this
as a threat, but...
And, George, back me up here.
Miles!
Okay. Let's go.
Now. You own my music?
You must be a rich man.
How much money you got on you?
- What?
- On you. Right now. How much?
400 or 500.
You know how they say it in Missouri, son.
Show me.
Okay. You about 19,000 light,
but that's a start.
That's okay. Walter, Walter, be nice.
Harper Hamilton.
What an honor, sir.
If I may, I'm a producer,
working with this kid.
That's Junior.
Scary.
You have got to see it to believe it.
He's playing a late set
at the Vanguard tomorrow night.
I'd love it if you'd be my honored guest.
Label mate.
We're working out a deal here, too.
Isn't that right, George?
- Yeah.
- Now, you're a fight fan, right?
I got a boxer on the card
at the cathedral tomorrow night.
Maybe you'd like to check that out, too?
We could talk a little shop.
Shit.
And I'm the asshole in the room, right?
Miles, come on, man.
You. Let's go.
Is that Miles Davis?
Wait a minute, Mr. Butler.
If I can get you that session tape,
we can do a little business, right?
- What?
- Don't say another word. Got it.
- Stairs? Stairs!
- There. There.
Man, what a waste.
He's probably more profitable
dead than alive now, huh?
Will you join me
in welcoming to the stage Miles Davis.
Yeah!
Sit down, girl. You're crazy.
- Come on.
- You're drunk.
Buddy, we fool around in this neighborhood,
we're going to get arrested.
Gotta give this little bird
a thing for my friend.
Won't take a minute.
- Hey, Frances.
- Hey, Buddy.
- This is for you.
- That's sweet.
- How you doing? That's good.
- I'm good.
So, you remember Phil, right?
Hey, Ana, let me... Let me get a 20 spot.
Sure, Miles.
- Hey, you know Phil.
- Well, thank you, Buddy.
Sure thing.
See you later.
Hi.
I'm Miles Davis.
I know. Frances Taylor.
Look.
This is my phone number.
Well, now you don't have to stare.
- Bye-bye.
- Bye.
Hello?
Miles, come watch me dance.
How about a little dark meat
for Thanksgiving?
Frances.
What are you doing?
Shit!
Hey, it's cool. I got you, man. Hey.
Let me drive.
Miles, Miles, look.
I should have told you what was up
right off the bat.
Miles.
Miles. Hey!
Look. Hey, listen.
I understand where you're coming from
with those guys upstairs.
It's never enough, right?
They suck you dry and they fuck you over.
Hey, listen.
Listen, listen, listen, listen.
Fuck the interview. Let's get right.
I know what you need!
Let me get you right!
I probably shouldn't shout this next part.
I know this kid.
He gets it like... From the root.
It's not stepped on,
and we can go right now.
It's the best coke in the city.
You is a crazy white motherfucker,
you know that?
Yeah, I know.
So, where's it at?
Columbia.
We just left Columbia, motherfucker.
The other one, motherfucker.
I did a story on this kid's old man.
Big shot doctor,
he was into some crazy shit.
The point is, this rich little fucker's
really got the goods.
How much you holding?
Whatever's in that clip.
All right, just follow my lead.
Man, this better not be no bullshit.
Beat it.
What the fuck...
- No. No.
- Hey, Justin. Wait, wait, wait, wait.
Who the fuck are you to show up at my...
You know what
"off the record" means, asshole?
You knew what was up with that.
You wanted to burn your old man, I helped.
So what?
- So what?
- Man, get on with it.
Yeah, come on in.
- All right, let's do this quickly.
- Wait, come here a sec.
What's going on?
- Why is he with you?
- Mate, mate...
- Right... Yeah, yeah, yeah. All right.
- Yeah, yeah.
So, what can I do you for?
- Make it an eighth.
- A quarter.
Quarter? Yes, sir.
A quarter? We've only got 500 bucks.
That's your problem.
You want to sit down, Mr. Davis?
Yeah. Scoot over, girl.
What an honor.
You know who the fuck's sitting
next to you right now, Tami?
His shit is mind-blowing.
I mean, I've got the classics
right here, you know.
And not just yours.
I've got the whole original experience.
Blues. Gospel.
Black music, it's where it's at.
All right.
No, no. It's 800.
What?
It would be 600 bucks
if I hadn't just walked in with him, right?
You trying to hustle me, Justin?
- No...
- Forget this kid, Miles.
He's a crook.
You are a fucking crook, Justin.
Fuck you.
Look, this is the price, Mr. Davis.
You've got to be kidding.
What have you got?
What have you got of his here?
What have you got? You've got, here,
Sketches of Spain, Birth of the Cool.
How many times
have you got laid to this man's music?
No offense, Tami.
And now you're shystering him?
I'm not shystering you, Mr. Davis.
Which one does he play, Tami?
I like that one a lot.
Look. This is fine.
I'll give you an eighth.
Oh, boy, you're still stupid.
"Give him an eighth."
Go get me a fucking pen.
Shit...
Fuckin' A, man, you kidding me?
Nah.
Just do a couple for him, Miles.
No, I don't do that.
Right. Forget it.
That was stupid. Let's go.
Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait. Look, look.
Hold on.
I'm sorry, okay?
Look, I'd go apeshit if you'd sign
just a couple of these for me.
You do that,
it'll cover what you're short.
- For the quarter, right?
- Yeah, for the quarter.
What do you think I'm saying, jerk?
This is old shit.
Man, I've cut like 15 records since these.
Yeah, but this is the stuff people dig.
This one's mine.
And up.
What's that move called?
Attitude.
Attitude. Really? Okay.
And I'm up there, forever.
Yeah.
It's kind of... I mean, I feel like
I'm almost falling the whole time.
And then that's when that...
That thing happens.
Yeah. Right.
Right.
So, it's the same.
It's the same?
Yes, it is.
You know what I mean?
When it's... When it's just right there.
And you're holding them right there
in the palm of your hand.
And you don't breathe.
They don't breathe.
And you're just...
You're just holding them.
And then...
We fly.
Miles?
Come here, silly.
What's wrong with you?
Asshole!
Keys.
Come on, Miles.
I just scored you fucking coke.
Give me an hour. Give me half
an hour so I can do this right.
I don't want to have to
write about all that other shit,
the gun and the drugs and stuff.
What's wrong with that?
Nothing. I want to write about the music.
Look, man, don't worry about none of that.
Okay? Here's the type of shit
you're going to do for me.
Fill the tank. Go get me catfish...
Miles!
Hey, baby!
- Hey!
- What the fuck is going on, Janice?
- It's Tuesday.
- So what?
Don't you remember? You told me that
I could have a party here on Tuesday.
I ain't talked to you in forever.
When I say that?
You know, weeks ago.
You always pulling this bullshit, Janice.
How the fuck you get in anyway?
Remember the key you hid
in your drawer that time?
Move, motherfucker.
Move!
Miles Davis!
Good to meet you again, my man.
You know, you are so far out,
you just stopped making music,
because you decide when you live and die.
The artist is God.
And when you're dead,
your funeral will be bigger than ever.
- So far out...
- Here, let me help you with that.
Kings and queens will come,
and they will be drunk
and having sex in all the bathrooms...
- Get the fuck off me, Hitler.
- Back up. Come on.
- Just cool it. Cool it.
- Hitler? Outrageous!
Get all these motherfuckers
out of my house!
No, no, no. Miles, please.
You promised me.
I straightened up and everything.
Look, I'll keep everybody away from you,
and we won't stay too late, okay?
Please?
Please.
Keep your simple-ass friends
away from my equipment.
- Of course.
- And just stay out the basement.
Okay.
Fucking Janice.
This shit is ridiculous, man.
Come on.
This place is...
Do you do a lot of recording down here?
Nice little hangout spot.
Very cool.
This is amazing.
Fuck.
- Told you, Harper.
- Yes, you did. Kudos to your sources.
Yeah, I don't know about this, you know.
You don't need to know. I know.
You just do your thing.
So, what are we going to do?
Are we just gonna walk up to him
in the middle of this party
and just start playing?
You know who John Coltrane was
before he was John Coltrane?
A bar walker.
He literally walked across the bar
playing his horn,
people throwing nickels at him.
Then, Miles hears him play...
"John Coltrane."
You think you're worse than a bar walker?
Trust me.
We'll find a little corner,
you'll play and that'll be it.
He just didn't look too much
like he wanted to...
Junior, stop playing with your pussy,
all right.
This is "take a shot" time. Let's go.
Fuck you, Harper.
Good?
Not bad.
Yeah, told you he had the good shit.
Oh, my God, she's so beautiful.
That look in her eyes, man.
I mean, that's something else.
This is Frances, right?
Here, have one.
I... I'm good.
Yeah. Yeah.
Ta.
Fucking hell. Fuck.
Fuck.
Fuck.
You gonna be all right?
Yeah, I'm going to need a drink
or something, or a Valium,
or a quaalude, or maybe a brick.
Get you a beer
out of that little fridge right there.
No, I'm gonna need
something a bit stronger.
I'll get something from upstairs,
if that's cool?
Yeah. Go ahead.
I'll need the key.
Lock it behind you.
It's the one with the little five on it.
- Sure.
- Grab me some of that brown liquor.
Yeah.
Rolling Stone.
- Hey.
- Hey, man.
How'd you weasel your way back in?
I just waltzed in
with the rest of the riffraff.
Lucky you.
- Where's Miles?
- He left.
Then what are you doing here?
I'm just snooping around.
I'm a writer. This is sort of what we do.
Help yourself.
Well, it's not yours,
what the fuck do you care?
Easy. Easy now.
Hey, guys, would you mind
if I asked you a few questions?
Get the fuck out of here.
"And he continues on his way."
You know, this is what I'm talking about.
Kid, kid, hey.
Don't let this be your future, okay?
Bunch of degenerates partying in your house
when you ain't even home.
Yeah, no, this is...
Walter, go get the car.
Okay, Harper.
Hey. It's the tape.
Well, well.
Fucking Rolling Stone.
What took you so long?
Redhead. Hot pants. You know.
Didn't know you could play piano.
This ain't playing. Playing around, maybe.
Sounds good to me.
- You mind?
- Here.
So, you studied piano, too?
Nah. Just woke up black
and knew how to play.
You're black?
- Is it cool?
- Go ahead.
Frances loves Chopin.
Yeah, she looks like a classy chick.
It's all we ever played
at the house, you know.
Classical music.
Chopin, Stravinsky.
You know, we'd throw on some Ravel.
I studied all them cats, man.
Broke down their compositions.
These revolutionaries. Innovators.
Pushing back at that standard,
classical bag.
Chopin, it's all about improvisation.
This shit, Bird and Diz was doing that
on stage every night, on the fly.
Didn't write it down.
Shit just came out of 'em.
I wanted to quit every night.
You know, old people,
they come up to me and they say,
"Why don't you play like you used to?"
I say, "Tell me how I used to."
Takes a long time to be able
to play like yourself.
Man don't do nothing like he used to.
The music don't move on,
then it's dead music, you know.
It's just dead.
Your turn, motherfucker.
What?
- You want the Dave Braden story.
- The Dave Braden story.
All right.
Was born in Scotland.
Grew up, wrote some shit,
did some other stuff.
And then I came to your house.
You left something out.
Who touched you up?
Are you going fucking senile?
Before me.
My wife's cocksucker boyfriend,
flat-top, Neanderthal motherfucker
decided it was his duty to
collect $22 of fucking alimony.
Hey!
- Give me that money!
- Okay, okay. Fuck!
Okay, take the fucking money.
Then I came to your house.
Alimony.
Yep.
So, ex-wife.
Yeah.
Fucked your groove up a little bit?
Yeah.
Yeah.
Man, come over here.
Put these on.
Throw a punch.
At the bag, motherfucker.
Right.
Now throw a real one.
Good. Now use your hip, okay?
Power comes from the waist.
That's it. Turn your waist.
Keep your foot on the ground, though.
Snap it. Turn it over when you hit it.
Turn it over.
Get back. Get back.
Yeah. Yeah.
Hey, hey. Come here. Come here.
Look.
Don't lock down chicks like that, man.
Get you beat up for alimony.
Wives is for important shit, man. Kids.
Shit like that, okay?
Come on. Hold it. Hold it.
Get it. Get it back.
Get it back. Let's go.
Get it. Come on. Come on.
Get it. One-two.
Savoy Hotel, London.
Yeah. Frances Taylor's room. 517.
Yes, Mr. Davis. One moment.
- Teo, we getting close?
- Yeah, we're getting close.
Don't fucking get snappy with me, shit.
I'm the one waiting.
I'm sorry. Mr. Davis,
there doesn't seem to be an answer.
You motherfuckers know
how to leave a note under a damn door?
That would be against hotel policy...
Shit.
All right, let's go, y'all.
See it right there, G flat?
Yo, Gil, should this be G flat?
All right, let's play it.
Let's do it again.
Listen to each other.
Listen to each other.
All right, now, see, you pick up
that note in the solo passage,
- we could add that to it.
- Yeah.
And then have them double it
when the section plays.
You want me to make a note here?
- Yeah, let's just try it.
- All right.
We have fucking all this hard-ass music
play with Gil, shit.
Got a Spanish record, too, I wanna do.
Sketches of Spain.
Good.
That's a motherfucker.
He was all up in there
like a motherfucker, man.
Man, I was cleaner than a broke-dick dog.
- Yeah, man, that suit was something else.
- Right?
What's a broke-dick dog?
That's in the forte scene.
- Yeah. That's right.
- We're coming in to...
That's right, and I want them to sting it.
You know, hit it.
- Yeah.
- And really take it off.
Then they gotta do a glissando.
Yeah, man.
- Y'all listening to them?
- Yeah.
This is how this shit's supposed to sound.
And hold that over to the next measure.
Hold that over the measure.
Yeah, then let it resolve.
Let it groove.
Yeah, let it groove.
We should get them back in.
- Let's do it. Thanks, man.
- Let's get 'em back in.
Teo, record this.
All right, guys,
Gone rehearsal, take three.
Y'all, let's be musical about this shit.
Be wrong, strong, okay?
Otherwise, lay the fuck out.
Let's go, Gil. Count it off.
One, two. One, two.
Yeah?
Hey.
Hey.
I've been calling you all day, Frances.
I must have called you, like, 1,000 times.
Where you been?
Miles, you know what time it is here?
I just woke up.
Guess what, baby.
We're a royal hit! We got extended.
Three more weeks.
I need you to come home, Frances.
Honey, did you hear
what I just said? I can't.
Just come home for one or two days.
They can get by without you
for two or three damn days.
Baby.
It's because I didn't marry you?
What?
Listen, I've been thinking about it.
Let's have a real serious talk about it
when you get home.
I'm sorry, baby,
can you hang on for a sec?
I'll be right back.
Frances.
Frances.
Frances!
I'm back.
I'm going to send a plane
to pick you up tomorrow.
I need you.
I'll...
I'll work it out with my understudy.
Okay.
I love you, baby.
I know
I love you, too.
Ciao for now.
Hey, y'all wake up.
Someday, I'm gonna
call me up on the phone,
so when I answer,
I can tell myself to shut up.
Come on.
Come on. Come play with us, man.
Frances.
I wasn't sure about these because I...
What are you doing?
Somebody stole my fucking tape!
What?
- What?
- You had my goddamn keys, Dave.
I don't have your tape, Miles.
- I spent all night downstairs with you.
- Then what the fuck happened?
- Shit, those bastards.
- What?
The...
- What?
- That trumpet player, the kid,
and that dodgy guy from Columbia,
they were here last night.
- They was in my house last night?
- They were right here!
The fuck you didn't tell me last night?
I was off my fucking tits last night!
Your tits... What?
I was all messed up last night.
With the coke and the booze and...
All right, George,
you want to fuck with me?
I'll fuck with you.
Try releasing my shit.
Sue the shit out of you motherfuckers,
I'll be on your fucking ass so fast!
Columbia Records.
Due to the Yom Kippur holiday,
- we will be closed today..
- Fucking Kippur!
- Vanguard.
- What?
That guy said the kid was playing
at the Vanguard tonight, right?
Maybe we can catch him at rehearsals.
Yeah. Come on.
You want me to go up there?
The fuck you think "come on" means?
Come on.
What are you doing?
You ain't driving me around
looking like that no more.
Hey! Great to see you, Miles.
What're you doing here?
I'm not here.
G flat!
C minor!
Right this way.
There you are, Mrs. Davis.
Excuse me, Miles. It's an honor.
- Beautiful show.
- Thank you. Thank you.
Miles, wonderful, son.
- See you next week, John.
- Right.
Hi, Miles.
Hey...
Emily?
- Erica.
- Erica, yeah. Right.
Would you walk me out
and help me get a cab?
I don't feel it's safe for a girl
out there by herself.
Yeah. Hold on a second.
Hey, Bill, y'all play that bossa.
All right, turn it up, guys.
- Where to?
- I got it.
Maybe you'd like to come by later.
No. Good night, Erica.
Hey!
Hey! No loitering. Move on.
I'm not loitering, man.
I work in there.
I don't care where you work. Move it.
I'm Miles Davis.
See? Miles Davis Quintet.
That's me. That's my band.
I don't give a shit.
Move your ass off this corner now,
or I'll lock it up.
I don't have to go nowhere, Jack.
It's public property.
I can stand here
and have a smoke if I want to.
Man, calm down. Hey!
Hands up, boy!
Did you see that, Frank?
Yeah, he was going to
take a run at you, Bobby.
- The fuck is wrong with y'all?
- You got this?
I got it.
- I ain't did shit!
- Stop moving!
Okay, the car's here. Let's go.
- Shit!
- Move it!
Get in there, boy.
Miles!
That's my husband! Miles!
That's my husband, move out of my way!
Miles!
You're a tough guy, ain't you?
Yeah. I am.
Fuck you.
Shut up!
Frances.
That's Miles Davis there. Do you hear me?
Miles Davis!
These cops think they can just do
whatever they want to do to anybody.
Dumb cracker motherfuckers,
I'll tell you right now.
- This will not be the end of this.
- That's enough out of you!
That's enough out of me, or what?
What's gonna happen?
You gonna beat me, too?
We're gonna sue the shit out of
all y'all racist sons of bitches.
My husband does not belong in here.
What about me, man?
Knock it off.
God, baby, look at you.
- It's okay. It's okay.
- What did they do?
What they do to you?
It's okay. It's okay.
Listen, let's get out of here.
That's good?
I want you to quit dancing, Frances.
What?
I want you to quit dancing.
- You want me to quit West Side?
- No.
Quit dancing altogether.
You're my wife now.
Your place is with me.
I know.
I know it's a sacrifice.
A sacrifice?
I'll take care of you
for the rest of your life.
You don't have to worry about nothing.
Frances.
- Boy, that tune was cruising!
- Dude, we gotta change key.
We gotta change the key.
Dave!
- Here, go get him!
- No, no...
- I don't need a gun.
- Go get him, man. Go get him!
Stay! Stay!
Hey, hey, hey. Calm down.
Hey, take it easy, kid.
So what, man. You gonna shoot me
over some fucking tape?
What? No. Where is the fucking...
Are you kidding me?
Okay.
Fuck!
Hey.
Drop it.
Okay, okay. Be cool. Be cool, baby.
Dumb motherfucker!
Where the fuck is my music?
I got it, all right?
But let me... I was just trying
to help, Mr. Davis. I swear...
Don't lie to me, hype.
You'll steal anything for some dope.
No, no... Harper was just trying to...
Wait, wait a minute.
Let me explain something to you, Mr. Davis.
That man right here's a crook!
So says the thief?
Thief? You was trying
to take his tape, man!
Shut the fuck up! Shut up!
What did Harper give you to steal my tape?
- Answer me!
- Nothing, nothing, nothing.
Just maybe a chance
to get to work with you.
To help you come back.
Yeah.
'Cause you just the hype
with the heart of gold now?
Yeah.
You remember that move, right?
Man, bring your ass.
Stop playing E flat
over D minor 9, rookie.
Right here.
- Junior?
- Hold on, baby.
It's not there.
- What?
- I gave it to them.
- Gave it to who?
- Who do you think?
You gave them the goddamn tape?
Well, what did you want me to do?
Did you want me to fight them?
That wasn't your tape to give to nobody.
Was it yours, Junior?
What are you doing, man?
Irene. Irene, I'm sorry.
Harper got it, man.
Where is Harper?
I don't know. At his studio or something.
You call him right now.
Tell him you're coming over.
I can't take y'all over there, man.
- He'll kill me.
- You don't do what I say,
I'm gonna kill you. Now call him!
- Call him!
- All right. I'll take y'all over there.
But I gotta do something first.
- Hello.
- Harper.
Junior.
You sent Walter to my house?
You didn't deliver the tape
last night, Junior.
So, I guess you're out.
Wait, wait, wait, wait.
I blew it, man. I know.
Okay? Just let me come by,
talk man to man.
I'm going to the fights, Junior.
I know Just give me about an hour.
All right?
One hour.
Hey, what you doing, man?
Hey, this ain't
"fly away like a bird" time.
We got work to do.
That's all you get.
Man, I can't watch this shit.
This is way too complicated, okay?
Just tell everyone to meet at Diahann's,
- and I'll teach one big class over there.
- Tonight?
No, I don't know when.
Just figure it out and let me know.
I can't have... Figure out...
Frances? Hello? Franny, you there?
- Yeah, I'm here.
- Okay.
- Okay.
- I'm still not clear...
Let's work out on
Wayne's tune we was working on.
Is Miles here?
Who is this? I said who is this?
Miles! How did you get this number?
Hey, what's going on, Frances?
- Hey, Miles. This is...
- Don't talk to him, bitch!
- Hang up the phone!
- I'm talking to you!
- You understand me?
- I just called to say hi.
Hang up the damn phone. Get off the...
You talking to me?
Nefertiti.
Y'all play Nefertiti. I'll be back.
Go on. Play it. Play it.
Miles is a married man,
do you understand me?
And you ain't nothing but a whore!
- Now, you listen to me, bitch.
- How dare you talk to me like that?
Don't you ever call this house again.
I'm telling you right now...
What are you doing?
What am I doing?
What the hell do you mean,
"What am I doing?"
I told you, don't worry about that.
This is my house, Miles! My house!
Don't you have them calling
my fucking house!
I didn't tell nobody
to call the fucking house.
This is too much, Miles.
- This is too much!
- Just stay off the damn phone. Shit!
Don't you walk away from me.
Frances.
I make your life beautiful, Miles.
I take care of you, I feed you.
Lie down in that fucking bed next to you.
You are my husband! You are with me!
I gave up everything for you, Miles.
I stopped dancing for you!
And you know what?
You have never played better
a day in your life, and you know it.
I'm the prize here!
I deserve better than this!
Are you through?
You mother...
Everything okay, Miles?
- Yeah?
- Junior.
He's going down, man. Knockout.
Third round.
Walter, you are dumb,
but at least you're pretty.
Don't do it!
Easy. Easy.
Where's my tape, Harper?
Right there, my friend.
- Go get his gun.
- Why do I have to get his gun?
Go get it!
Sit your ass down.
Sit down!
Watch him.
Yeah, no. This is... This is great.
Junkie and the flunky.
Fucking Larry and Moe.
I love those guys.
So, I guess you're not
getting it either, huh, Rolling Stone?
You and this kid's story,
lumping me in with that shit.
What?
It's pathetic.
No, yeah. You go ahead. Take that tape.
I just did, motherfucker.
That's the second time
you pointed a gun at me, you know?
I know. I can count.
Right. I almost forgot,
you used to be a musician.
Go Ahead John
from the Jack Johnson sessions.
Miles Davis radio.
George put you all up to this?
I'm an enterprising young man.
I got options.
Where the fuck are you going?
See you around, Miles.
Junior.
This little fuck-up.
They made me do it, man.
Well, we're not going to let a bag of money
just walk out the door, Walter.
Go bring me back that goddamned tape.
I knew your ass was dirty!
Gimme my keys!
You're not saying you believe
that bullshit back there, are you?
Keys!
Fuck, all right.
But let me tell you one thing.
I never wanted your tape,
I just wanted the story.
- I was trying to help.
- That's three fucking things.
Now give me my goddamn keys!
Miles, we should go.
Miles!
We should go!
Miles. Let me talk to you for a second.
Shit!
Fucking get in!
Go! Go!
Make a right! Go right!
Is he there?
Fuck, Miles!
Shit! Give me that other gun.
I don't have it.
- What?
- I chucked it.
The fuck! Why?
I didn't know we were going
to get in a gunfight, did I?
Go! Go! Go! Go!
Shit! Lose this motherfucker!
Miles!
Frances.
I think we've lost him.
Keep going, keep going.
Don't stop.
- Here he comes!
- Is that him? Shit!
Turn! Turn!
Shit, it stalled! Get out! Go, go, go!
Go.
Jesus, go!
Don't go back for it! No! No!
Miles!
Leave it!
Fuck! Get in there.
Come on! He's coming!
Miles!
Fucking hell!
Fuck!
Okay, we gotta get out of here.
We gotta get out of here,
take you to the hospital.
What are you doing?
You've been shot. I should drive.
Fuck.
Wait a minute, where are you going?
Hey, man, just make some more shit up.
You're Miles fucking Davis.
I'm getting my goddamned music back.
Found you.
Fuck.
Come on. Come on.
This is nuts, man.
All right, listen, Miles, that's it.
You're on your own.
This is madness.
I am not dying over this tape
'cause that's what's going to happen
when you go in there.
You get it? They will kill you.
You hear me?
Yeah.
Miles.
I'm sorry. Mr. Davis.
With this type
of degenerative hip disorder,
surgery and pain medications
are your only recourse.
Frances.
Frances!
Stop it, he's going to hear us.
I like that.
Oh, boy! That's Miles Davis!
Hey, hold it, buddy, hold it, buddy.
You see that line?
You're... Yeah. You're Miles Davis.
I'm sorry, Mr. Davis.
Do you have a ticket?
You're looking at it.
Come on!
That's Miles Davis!
Where is he?
Where is who?
Don't fucking lie to me, I heard him!
- What are you talking about?
- Where is he?
- I don't know who you're talking...
- Come here!
Miles, wait!
Miles. Miles, wait!
Miles, there's nobody else. I'm yours!
What... Oh, my God!
Miles, you're hurting my arm.
Please, stop.
Miles, listen to what I'm saying.
Miles, there's nobody here!
Stop for a second, this is crazy!
Miles, what are you looking for?
Stop!
Listen to me, it's those pills.
They're making you crazy...
Oh, my God!
- Listen to me...
- Where is he?
Miles! Oh, my God, Miles.
Where is he?
He's over there. He's over there, Miles.
He went down there. He's down there.
Kill his ass...
I can't believe this shit.
Look at this motherfucker here, man.
Relax, he's not going to do anything here.
Wait, wait!
No, no, no, Miles, you go. Please.
I'm too scared. He said he would kill me
if I didn't leave you, Miles.
Okay. You go wait upstairs.
You wait upstairs for me.
I'll kill his ass.
Okay.
You don't know what the word
"lose" means, do you, Miles?
Miles!
Back up!
Jesus, come on, Miles!
Get my shit! Get my shit!
Got it, got it, got it!
Go, go, go, go, go!
Come on.
Frances!
Keys!
- Holy fucking shit!
- Yeah, yeah.
Just keep going, all right?
Just keep going.
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah.
Hey, Miles, we're gonna
get you fixed, all right?
We'll get you fixed up, man, don't worry.
Just take me home.
Hello?
You thought I wouldn't find you?
You make me come out there,
the only thing left is gonna be bullets.
You hear me?
I'm not coming back.
I... I'll kill myself, Frances.
I swear to God.
Please, Frances. I...
Frances, I love you.
I know you do.
Goodbye, Miles.
I'll grab a towel or something.
Yeah. Yeah.
These fucking drawers are full of...
Miles, where do you keep your towels?
Miles?
Got it, got it.
Take it from C. Letter C.
When do you come in?
I'm in there.
- I don't hear any trumpet in it.
- I played organ.
The whole time?
Shit.
Look here, man, maybe you,
you know, go back to scales and, you know,
get your chops back, right?
Here, this is what you want, right?
Bye-bye.
Have a nice trip, junkie.
Take this fucking fraud with you.
Come on, you're fucking kidding, right?
Is that it?
I see. So, you're gonna
just get back in the hole now?
You're going to do more of this.
Isn't this where I came in?
You in here doing
all this fucking what? Doing...
- Nothing.
- Fuck you, Dave.
You ungrateful motherfucker.
Well, fuck you, man.
I'm not going down there.
I'm not getting in the fucking hole.
Because I've got work to do,
I'm going to write the fucking story.
- Is that right?
- I'm going to write the fucking story.
The dirt. The truth about you.
And if Rolling Stone don't want it,
well, so what?
You know how many people
will pay for what I've got?
You may be a quitter,
but you're still a fucking earner, baby.
Yeah.
Come on, you're Miles Davis.
Change it up, isn't that what you say?
Don't repeat yourself.
You've fucking done this before,
the self-pity and burnout motherfucking part.
What was that?
It's that.
That ain't in there.
Yeah. Yes. Yes, it is.
Let me show you.
You start with the...
Start with the three...
Start with the three,
and then go to the tonic,
and then a flat six, and then B major.
Wait a minute, play that again.
Now this time don't play the F sharp.
Play... Play F minor seven
in that second chord. Play it.
Okay. So... So, like this?
With the seven.
- That's it. Yep.
- Yep?
Play it again.
- See that?
- Yeah. Yeah.
Okay, that's it. Now put it...
Voice it like this, though.
You know what I'm saying?
- See that with the D?
- But what's that going to do?
- It opens it up. Makes it a little cooler.
- Okay.
You can go anywhere with that.
If you're going to tell a story,
come with some attitude, man.
Don't, you know..
Don't be all corny with this shit.
Well, how would you say it, Miles?
Yeah. That's how I'd say it.
Your playing,
it really takes you on a journey.
Yeah, that's music.
You know, something clicked.
Is there any way that you could put that,
what you just played, into words?
You just did, man.
I gotta go.
I've got work to do.
Actually, Miles, I've many more...
Where's this guy...
Hey, Miles!
Are you coming back?
You better believe it.