If you have not heard Bitches Brew, or are looking to replace a vinyl edition because you hate CDs, this is the release that will serve you best. The mastering is crisp, clear and holds a lot of bottom. The liner notes are nearly perfect and the set contains a superb DVD of a concert from 1969. Lastly, the set is so reasonably priced for what is included that for once I feel like thanking a corporate giant.

It goes without saying that the music is among the finest American music ever recorded. Listening to the 40th Anniversary Legacy edition just released on Columbia with fresh ears I can only say that everything written about this album, both good and bad, is probably correct. It is one of the few releases ever that actually deserves its shrine in the Hall of Greatness.

Before I can go any further I need to admit something.

Recently, guitarist Dave Gilmour was interviewed by the BBC for a special on the history of Pink Floyd. Near the end he remarked that he wishes he could hear Dark Side of the Moon for the first time. As one of its architects, he has never been able to hear the landmark album with fresh ears.

It’s a completely understandable feeling. As wide as my musical tastes are, (or appear to be in my mind), I have certain world class, five-star albums that have never made it to my turntable.

At the top of that list was Bitches Brew. For years I have listed to releases by (and featuring) many of the musicians on the album including Joe Zawinul, Chick Corea, John McGlaughlin and Chick Corea. Considering how much I love Sketches of Spain, Weather Report and The Mahavishnu Orchestra, you would think that I would have picked up Bitches Brew years ago. Plus it has an incredible cover by Abdul Mati Klarwein, one of the greatest painters of the twentieth century.

Simply put, the album was always around. It was always in the new bins, in the used bins and at my friend’s house. It was so ubiquitous that somehow I put it off listening to it for what would eventually become decades.

That was my loss.

After playing the first disc all the way through I hit play again and sat for another seventy minutes. There was so much music inside what was being played that I couldn’t stop.

Like all great artists, Miles heard everything around him and incorporated it into what he was doing. By everything I mean everything. There are Sly, Jimi, The Beatles, James Brown, Top Forty, advertising music from the fifties, film music from possibly every decade and a thousand different sources that swim in the mix.

The first track, Pharaoh’s Dance, matches the crazed confusion of America during the time it was written and it also matches the crazed confusion of the America of today. Hearing it for the first (and second) ever, this is music that exists in a way that some how defines the past, present and future.

Distorted, thick lines turn suddenly and sharply into near invisible lines with each line working into a picture much large than the line itself. The bass drives you down a straight highway surrounded by deserts. At first you believe the mesas are on the left and when you blink they are on the right, but the bass keeps your wheels in the straight line they need to be. Otherwise you would fly off into the night.

From the darkness and shadows out in the desert on either side of you are spirits and liars and thieves and priests. Each comes swooping across the front and sides of your car as you sit helpless hearing them scream. Multiple rhythms are jumping around you and somehow they are all part of the same rhythm. What goes on is so extraordinary that you can only sit back and trust the driver. Since everything seems to be going on fine, you have no choice and don’t really seem to be concerned about the space. You can only ride along with where every instrument is going.

In Bitches Brew there is a quick line by Miles that is heavy with echo and possibly a bit of reverb. It is the equivalent of the wah-wah that Hendrix uses on Rainy Day from electric Ladyland, only it comes from an alternate universe. At some point the music seems to be a soundtrack to an acid-fueled cowboy movie. You can here the Calvary charge. The next thing you know you want to dance.

If you think that I am grasping for imagery, or over reaching myself when talking about the music (and I can’t say that you would be wrong!), I can only refer you to the liner notes by Michael Cuscuna and Seidel May. At one point they describe the release as “Mils’ Salvador Dali Moment” and they are right.

Through out the entire release each musician shines. They all find moments, both solo and inside the song, that would never occur to almost anyone else. With so many of the musicians now household names the main it is pointless to single anyone out. However, you cannot ignore the way that the electric bass of Harvey Brooks so perfectly holds everything going on around him. The way he provides the drive for Pharaoh’s Dance is stunning. It is a true road song. There isn’t a moment throughout the album where he fails.

This release of Bitches Brew contains a DVD of a concert in Copenhagen from 1969. Included on the seventy minute DVD are a few songs from Bitches Brew, which had yet to be released when the concert was taped. The DVD alone is worth the price of admission.

The music is nearly untouchable. Among the delights are watching Corea closely as he moves so fluidly across the keys, seeing Shorter switch between horns without a thought, close ups of slow rolls from DeJohnette as his wire brushes glide across a snare and most of all, seeing Miles lead by a look, a finger, a thought. To see the interplay between everyone is a thrill. It is bright challenging music and the audience responds with a respect that is rare in today’s world. They came to listen and Miles came to play. Everyone does their job.

The color is bright and funnily enough, the stock reminded be of how bright color TV was in the late sixties. Also of note is how little actual electronics are on stage. The absence of so much gadgetry is reflected in the music itself. The only real nod is Corea’s Fender Rhodes. Although I am sure there are few pedals or effects out of site.

It is impossible to watch any historical document and not note how everyone is dressed. As is pointed out in the liner notes, this wasn’t the suit and tie jazz of the fifties and early sixties.

On the CDs are six bonus tracks. Each one serves to expand the original music, not bury it with undeveloped lines or discarded directions, possible paths the musicians could have chosen.

While the release has been remastered several times, it would be hard pressed to find a better sounding edition. From the incredible price to the sound and over to the incredible amount of bonus material that the edition contains, this is one of the best musical bargains you could hope for.

As good as all those things are, you still have to buy it for the music. That’s the only real reason. You owe it to yourself to hear this entire release before you leave this plane of existence.

There is also a 40th Anniversary deluxe release of Bitches Brew that contains a the material from this version as well as2 LPS, a fold-out poser and a 48 page book.