DISTANT RELATIVES: THE STORY OF NASIR JONES AND MILES DAVIS BY SHELDON TAYLOR

Nas is the Miles Davis of hip hop. Point blank. Emphatic Wyntonisms aside, Nasir Jones and the brooding jazz master's careers unite them as unlikely kindred spirits. It was no coincidence that both recorded for Columbia Records crafting their signature masterpieces Illmatic and Kind of Blue. They were the offspring of influential parental figures who rejected traditional academia in favor of self-study and confident self-expression. They later transferred that independence toward their work fueling the evolution of their musical formulas in the face of criticism from purists.

                                                             

Davis’ creative inspirations were cultivated through relationships with idols and contemporaries Charlie Parker, Dizzy Gillespie, and Thelonius Monk while Nas basked in distant admiration of the Juice Crew, a rap collective led by fellow Queensbridge Projects native and hip hop legend, Marley Marl whose sample driven productions established the crew as the antithesis of the mighty Def Jam/Rush empire. They established a sonic template with a series of classics defining rap's Golden Age in the late eighties and early nineties.

When Nas sought assistance for his debut album, rapper Q-Tip and hip hop production elite Pete Rock, Large Professor and DJ Premier rose to the occasion concocting an elixir of the soulful backdrop of melodies and moody jazz breaks to compliment Nas' intricate rhyme schemes. A dynamic guest performance from rapper AZ and a muted trumpet solo from father and jazz musician, Olu Dara rounded out a landmark hip-hop album whose musical overtones would have been right at home at Minton's Playhouse or Birdland.

Never content to stay in the past, Nas and Miles abandoned their groundbreaking formulas and reemerged with new collaborators. Producers Gil Evans and Teo Macero anchored Miles's swift metamorphosis from dapper band leader to psychedelic jazz-fusion rock star. Classic releases like Sketches in Spain, Quiet Nights, and Bitches Brew were highlights in his prolific arsenal.

Nas would find his Evans/Macero in frequent collaborator Salaam Remi. Enhance and update his sprawling, nostalgic editorials. Remi created dramatic scores transforming God’s Son, Street’s Disciple and Hip Hop is Dead into cinematic documentaries featuring Nas as the central character wrestling with the trials and tribulations of life. Part reality and part Greek tragedy, irony and complexity doubled as supporting characters from his scripted narratives of transparency and contradiction.

Ever reclusive as jazz and rap moved to the forefront; Miles and Nas retreated further into the background the more successful he became. Rejecting the genial nature of Louis Armstrong, he had little use for onstage pandering, performing with his back to the audience. Nas faded into the background between album releases and concert dates while peers like Jay-Z enjoyed higher profiles. 

Their aloofness and quiet flamboyance concealed intense, explosive personalities, endearing them to their fans. Both men possessed strong racial consciousness and pride manifested on the earthy On the Corner and the politically charged The N albums.

Though firmly established as artistic leaders, Miles and Nas had no problem looking outward for inspiration. Davis admired Sly Stone and Prince, even recording pop songs by Michael Jackson and Cyndi Lauper. An amateur boxer, he created an album entitled A Tribute to Jack Johnson. In later years he reunited with longtime partner Gil Evans, briefly returning to his roots before firing one last shot at the Marsalis jazz renaissance with Doo Bop, his final album inspired by the sounds of hip-hop music he heard in Nas-like fashion, outside his New York City apartment window.

Echoing Miles's independent creative streak, a pairing with producer Hit-Boy on the well-received King's Disease album series earned Nas a Grammy (his first). Rather than lean older rhyme cadences and familiar boom-bap sounds, King's Disease and King's Disease 2 moved Nas into a contemporary space that eluded him for years.

Like Davis--Nas's late-career rebirth with the well-received King's Disease album introduced him to a new generation of listeners. On the eve of his fifth decade, he dropped the third installment of the King's Disease series thirty-two years after his first appearance on wax as a brash teenager.  

Occasional rap sightings aside-- rap's elder statesmen have settled into positions of tastemakers/curators (LL Cool J), business and activism (Jay-Z), and pop culture icons (Snoop). Despite his own peripheral activities, Nas's calling card has always been his music. Weathering the storm of fickle fans, creative stumbles, and changing styles---Nas has put together a body of work that is destined for eternal examination, fulfilling his uncanny prophecy captured in an archived interview tacked on to the end of  KDIII's  Commodores-sampling Ghetto Reporter:

"When I'm 50 years old, I'm gonna have 50-year-old fans, 60-year-old fans and sixteen-year-old fans."

Modeling Stevie Wonder’s eclectic poetry and Marvin Gaye’s autobiographical testimonies while weaving artists Rakim, MC Shan, and Donny Hathaway into mystical storylines, Nas's penchant for ancestral continuity is spiritually literal: 1991 marked the beginning of his music career and the end of Davis’ life. Prolific and provocative, their works are reflective of music’s past, present and future.