I got the call late one afternoon while lazing around in my college dorm room. Some of the guys from Miles Davis's band were performing at NYU that night, but didn't have a full band. Could I play bass and bring along a guitarist and keyboardist? I protested that we were mere rock musicians, but desperation was running high — and the money was decent — so I relented. I hightailed it down with my pickup band of dorm mates and met Davis's guys. They were unique, exactly what you might expect of musicians that Davis had hired to play tunes from Decoy and You're Under Arrest, his proto-electronica mid-80s albums: Intense and weird, in the best possible way. After some pleasantries we were told it was showtime. No soundcheck, no charts, no setlist. As we hit the stage and the drummer started a long and intricate fill, I turned to the guy I presumed was the leader and shouted — with several hundred students already crowded in front of us — "What key?" He rested his blue, electric violin to his chest, smiled and replied calmly, "Just make the magic happen." We were off.

I think of that night every time I listen to Miles Davis. Sadly, I don't listen to him enough. And I don't think I'm alone.

At some point, Miles Davis slipped in our culture from legend, icon and musical giant to distant historical figure. The ever-changing, progenitor of at least a half-dozen distinct styles of jazz has joined the ranks of Robert Johnson and Charlie Parker; a once-dominant musical force who is revered by fewer and fewer — and listened to by even less — as the nearly 25 years since his death have passed.

There have been endless reissues, but like Elvis Presley's catalog after his death, they only served to dilute the greatness of Davis's work rather than elevate it. Until recently, that is.

(c) 2014 Glen Craig / Courtesy of Sony Music Entertainment

Taking its cue from Bob Dylan's acclaimed Bootleg Series, Sony has begun a more carefully crafted curation of the Miles Davis vaults. The expanded editions of Sketches in Spain and Bitches Brew a few years back were fantastic, and the recent box of mono remasters (that I listed on my Best of 2013 here in December) was extraordinary. Better still has been Davis's own Bootleg Series.

Over the past few years, there have been two excellent live CD/DVD sets: Miles Davis Quintet — Live In Europe 1967: The Bootleg Series Volume 1 and Miles Davis Quintet — Live In Europe 1969: The Bootleg Series Volume 2. Later this month, Sony will unleash Volume 3. And I do mean unleash.

Miles at the Fillmore — Miles Davis 1970: The Bootleg Series Volume 3 compiles four incendiary nights at New York City's legendary Fillmore East, as breathtaking a series of concerts as any the then-dominant counter-culture could offer, then and perhaps even now.

This isn't easy listening jazz, but then Davis surely never was. Instead, the release offers a glimpse into the remarkable interplay between remarkable musicians, with Davis at the forefront and as in charge as ever.

"He came out looking and sounding tight and steely-hard, knees bent and horn raised, like a heavy spring under tension," wrote Vince Aletti of Rolling Stone at the time. Variety agreed: "The only label that can be placed on this (music) is that it's Miles Davis music." As these discs confirm, both assessments still ring true.

There are hints of Sly Stone and Jimi Hendrix and the soul and funk that was only beginning to scratch the surface of mainstream music in 1970, throughout the four nights of concerts, presented in their entirety over 4 CDs (with a few unreleased gems from Davis's Fillmore West concerts thrown in for good measure). But like Ravi Shankar or The Beatles, or any of the other oft-imitated pioneers of the era, this is music that only Miles Davis could make.

So it's more than a bit of a shame that if you browse Amazon or even Spotify for something by Davis to buy or listen to that the choices are overwhelming and, frankly, hit and miss. It doesn't serve his legacy well, especially in this singles-driven music market and short-attention-span world we live in.

But do yourself a favor and grab the recent nine-disc Original Mono Recordings and the three volumes of Davis's Bootleg Series, especially this latest one. They're the perfect place to begin or renew an appreciation of the magnificence of his talent and how truly, remarkably ahead of his time Davis was. Your ears (and your brain) will thank you for it.

Then tell a friend. It's about time we found a place again for Davis in our world, a place where more of us can let his magic happen.

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Jeff Slate Jeff Slate is a New York City-based songwriter and journalist who has contributed music and culture articles to Esquire since 2013.

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