You are free - to starve
(George Jackson - letter to his mother)

Two main types of disease can be identified: the ones that result from the introduction of a pathogen; and then those that result from the "loss of the soul". Their treatment is essentially different: in the first case it is required to expel the sickening agent, in the second case to find and re-integrate the fugitive soul of the sick person.
In this latter case the shaman wins hands down, since he only can see and capture the soul.

(Mircea Eliade "Le chamanisme") 

(...)

Enigmatically published 35 years later that historical concert, the Cellar Door Club's 6 CDs witness the Sonic Apocalypse of a Negro Man and his five Alfèrezes - starting with a fade-in; as if we were entering in the middle of the set.

The story - accordingly to the liner notes - goes that the Cellar Club had some 150 seats and that its small stage could hardly fit the band. So the tape recorder had to be placed in a different room and, when the first notes started, the sound engineer was caught by surprise and had to run to the other room in order to hit the record button, once the set had already started.

We know of a different truth: this is the only way (un-completed; en passant; im/perfect) to start recording music that ever was. You cannot capture immortal music in its entirety: for this reason that evening the tape recorder was late: in respect of music. You can never catch the infinite.

(...)

No community can say to have suffered to the full extent the “American Counter-Reformation”. None - but African-Americans.

And Miles Davis was one of the stars of the black uprising - some star who had been beaten on the head by the "pigs." At the time (and currently) a word used as a nickname for racist policemen; but today also (add an "i" - as in PIIGS) to describe the 'inferior' European races from Portugal, or Ireland, Greece, Spain - or Italy (notwithstanding owning the greatest artistic heritage in the world).

(...)

The story goes that Miles felt compelled to go see Stevie Wonder, accompanied by "his foxy lady” Betty Mabry (“Mrs. Davis” for a year; then he divorced Betty before the Cellar Door concerts, she guilty - according to Miles - of having “screwed” Jimi Hendrix).

Our Miles Gloriosus arrived when Stevie’s band had just finished a day of rehearsals, just to whisper the unfortunate news in the blind genius’ ear. “I’m taking your fucking bass player,” he told him, in his trademark slurred voice. Which he did.

Cellar Door was one of the first demos of the sonic magma generated by that theft – a prophetic idea. Michael was born with the demon of music screaming in his blood, well before sucking the first drop of breast milk, but (all things considered) he found himself thrown by chance into the mistery that some people will call, with hindsight, the “last great band of Miles Davis”.

(..)

We are told of a few irritated remarks by sax-man Gary Bartz about the way Keith Jarrett used to accompany his sax solos. Indeed it would appear that Miles, having received - in camera caritatis - Gary's request to chill the pianist out, he went instead to Jarrett asking him to dig it in: " You know, Gary would really appreciate it - a lot".

This was Miles, after all. If you listen to the aural results of his direction, these four nights in D.C., you can trust that undoubtedly tension does move the world around.

(...)