While jazz aficionados will vehemently debate and discuss (as jazz aficionados are wont to do) whose visages belong on any “Mount Rushmore” of the genre, one man’s features would seem to be a shoo-in: Miles Davis.
Throughout his long and varied career, Davis (1926-1991) both celebrated and shook up jazz, the notes from his trumpet weaving in and out styles, sounds, and decades of live and recorded work. And he remains one of the music’s most written about and analyzed performers.
To mark the centennial of his birth, the Miles Davis Estate is planning an ambitious slate of new projects that cover film (feature production Miles & Juliette) books (a reissue of his 1989 autobiography), music (Miles Davis – The Complete Live at the Plugged Nickel 1965 among them), fashion (menswear from John Varvatos), concerts (The Voice of Miles: A Symphonic Celebration), advertising (a campaign with singer Laufey and Lexus cars) and even a “centennial cigar” from Ferio Tego.
And that’s just what’s been made public so far.
Asked about the ambitious breadth of things involved, Vince Wilburn, Jr.—Davis’ nephew and co-executor of his estate—says the impetus is simple.
“Come on, Bob! We’re talking about Miles Davis!” he laughs. “He’s a brand, and every day should be a celebration of Miles and his music and his legacy! Pretty much every day since he passed, people reach out to the family about things. And with his 100th birthday, the skies parted.”
Wilburn also has more than a familial collection to Miles Davis—as a drummer, he both played on stage and recorded with his uncle during the 1980s. And he’s carried the music forward with the currently on-tour M.E.B. (Miles Electric Band). The rotating lineup which usually finds around 10 men onstage, both alumni of Davis’ bands and younger players influenced by him, leaning on the spirited jazz/funk/R&B sound of the discography.
A recent M.E.B. show in St. Louis (about a half an hour from Davis’ hometown of Alton) included Darryl Jones, on break from his day gig as the bassist for the Rolling Stones for more than three decades. Wilburn even got emotional after the show recognizing some family members, including a 100-year-old friend of his mother (Miles’ sister), the late Dorothy Mae Davis.
“It’s always been a floating [lineup] because different cats have different things they do. And they’re all bandleaders,” Wilburn notes. “So, we fill in the spaces. I think we’ve locked everybody in for the year. But it’s great we have like the top 10 trumpeters in our Rolodex that we can call today.”
The M.E.B. just shared billing on the inaugural Santa Monica Jazz Festival with bass legend Stanley Clarke and red-hot contemporary saxophonist Kamasi Washington. Wilburn says that Clarke sent him “the nicest text” about what Miles meant to him. Dates for the M.E.B.’s 2026 tour are still unfolding, which may include some Texas gigs.
Throughout his career, Miles Davis explored seemingly every nook, cranny, and style of jazz music. And his 1959 effort Kind of Blue is the best-selling jazz album of all time. Though Wilburn says his uncle never really liked that term—preferring to call what he played “social music.”
“I always say, what musician has played with both Charlie Parker and Prince?” Wilburn marvels. “That’s the vastness he had. Living with he and [son] Erin in Malibu, those iconic records like Sketches of Spain and Kind of Blue, they weren’t in the house. He didn’t listen to what he already did. He was thinking about the future, the evolution, what was next. He recorded every concert. He’d listen and go ‘What can we do different next time?’”
It might come as a surprise to many that Miles Davis was an avid watcher of MTV when it came out in the early ‘80s. Wilburn says he would put it on with the sound down, picking up his trumpet and turning it up when the mood hit him.
“It was an experience to watch him play to [Michael Jackson’s] ‘Human Nature’ or [Tina Turner’s] ‘What’s Love Got to Do With It?’ Or even Scritti Politti’s ‘Perfect Way’ or Mr. Mister’s ‘Broken Wings,’” Wilburn says. “He’d have the record company send over the records and next thing you know, we’d be in the studio doing Cyndi Lauper’s ‘Time After Time.’ It was incredible to witness that development and be part of the ride.’”
Asked if his uncle ever cut him any slack as a player because of their blood relation, Wilburn grins and shakes his head from side to side. He remembers when he was living with his parents in Chicago, he had a band that would practice at the house. Uncle Miles would call and, thanks to those long, long coiled phone cords that could stretch at the time, be able to hear over the receiver what they were doing in a completely different room.
“He would say ‘Dorothy, let me hear what they’re doing,’” Wilburn recalls—doing a pitch perfect impression of his uncle’s famously raspy voice. “And he’d listen to the whole rehearsal. He did that for four weeks straight and critique us afterward. But he heard something in us and asked us to make a record. And that was [1981’s] The Man with the Horn. Then on stage, he told me to never take my eyes off of him. But no nepotism. We all had to play our booties off!”
In fact, throughout any M.E.B. show, an on-stage DJ drops in snippets of Miles Davis himself talking about music and life in between numbers. Wilburn says it helps the audience feel closer to the man who created what is being played.
“We were asked to put a trumpet onstage and put and put a spotlight on it and it’s like ‘Naaahh.’” Wilburn says. “We feel he’s with us onstage. And sometimes I have dreams of Uncle Miles where he just shows his face and smiles and then just disappears. So, I know we’re doing something right.”
For many, the “image” of Miles Davis is that of a stern, brooding musician with a chip on his shoulder and who’d play with his back to audiences as if they weren’t there. Biographers have noted that could be seen as a wary self-defense mechanism or—based on actual experience—caution about not being taken advantage of, especially by strangers. Not to mention the racist behavior he was often at the receiving end of.
But among his own family at gatherings and parties, Wilburn says that his guard was down and his sense of humor definitely up.
“You know, if he felt comfortable around you, he was the funniest, funniest guy. And he had the quick one-liners,” Wilburn says. He’s also get into friendly one-upsmanship with younger brother, Vernon.
Wilburn mentions that Miles never liked to stay long after concerts, award ceremonies, or laudatory dinners, preferring to retreat back to his home in Malibu to relax or maybe pick up his paintbrush.
“One time, Uncle Vernon flew in from East St. Louis. He had his brand-new suit, and he wanted to hang out and party with people. So, we were on the way back to Malibu after the show and he said ‘I’ll be Goddamned, Miles! You made me come all the way out here just to look at you?’ And we all started laughing. Uncles Miles nearly fell out on the floor! And to make him laugh, you had to be funny.”
One person who did that was Richard Pryor, whose standup comedy video tapes were frequently watched by Davis and bandmembers.
Finally, when asked if he had any particular memories about playing with his uncle in Houston or even Texas, Wilburn says one comes to mind immediately.
“I don’t remember where we were, but the second number in our setlist was the blues. And when you play the blues, the older church sisters in Texas let you know. We got to that and it’s so quiet and you can hear a pin drop. And then some lady yelled out ‘Play, baby!’ And even he stopped and started laughing!”
For more on M.E.B. visit MilesElectricBand.com
For more in Miles Davis, visit MilesDavis.com
