By 1955, Miles Davis had been recording on the Prestige label for four years. But as his career began to gain momentum, getting a group together was an inevitable career decision. The Miles Davis Quintet consisted of Paul Chambers on bass, John Coltrane on tenor, Red Garland on the keys, Philly Joe Jones on the sticks and Miles on the trumpet. With this group, Miles had more than a steady performance group – he had a vehicle. In the space of about a year, the quintet recorded five full-length LPs – and that was just for Prestige. This was one of the busiest and most headlong periods for Miles Davis.

Let me first say that the music collected in The Legendary Prestige Sessions box set is infallible. The albums that these sessions spawned — namely The New Miles Davis Quintet, as well as the legendary 1956 quadriptych Relaxin’, Steamin’, Workin’ and Cookin’ — are among the finest I’ve heard in Miles’ catalogue: these are the kind of songs that move you in a way only Jazz music can. Sure, it’s not perfect, but it didn’t have to be; Prestige wanted it hard and quick, and they got it that way. Far removed from Columbia’s relaxed, multiple-session approach to album recording, or even the future extremes of Mingus’ perfectionism and sophisticated techniques, the quintet recorded straight, with no retakes.

In fact, since these sessions were so quick and dirty, there are no alternate takes or unreleased numbers here; in that sense, the box set might seem perfunctory. What we have here is the music that comprised the original records on three CDs, plus one fourth disc exclusive to the box: it features radio and television broadcasts, as well as transcriptions of Miles’ solos comprised of remastered live broadcasts. The quality on this bonus disc is a little poor, but listenable.

You’ll notice, as well, that I said “the music which comprised the original records,” not “the original records.” That’s because these are the sessions, in exact chronological order; you can actually hear the quintet get tighter and tighter as they go along. For those who want to hear the records as released, however, the booklet does give you extensive information, so it wouldn’t be hard to piece the tracks into original album order. These discs are also ostensibly remastered, although I’m not an audiophile enough to have the last word on that; I’m sure some effort was put toward the reconstruction of those round, hissing live recordings that make up disc four, in any case.

So I guess the big question is, is it worth it? If you already have all of the original Prestige albums and they’re still in good shape, probably not. The book is gorgeous, of course, with its glossy pictures of the legendary trumpeter’s face and its essay by jazz critic Bob Blumenthal, but informed jazz hounds will already know most of what the liners have to say. The extra disc is really great, too, and having transcriptions of the solos is a good bonus, though I don’t think anyone but the biggest collectors (or perhaps just interested trumpet players) would be interested in a $60 set just for that.

Still, for someone new to this era of Miles, or who hasn’t heard any of these recordings at all, buying this set is definitely worth it. There’s something about a box set that puts the music into a definitive historal context. And this particular music? “Its legacy,” writes Blumenthal, “remains one of the most satisfying chapters in the history of recorded jazz.” After listening to this set, I don’t think many are bound to disagree.

Reviewed by Jon Cameron