The life and times of Miles Davis were nothing short of remarkable. He reinvented jazz on multiple occasions, refused to artistically stagnate, and followed his father’s advice to never give in to the pressure of what other people think. Together, these factors created a force like no other, whose influence continues to reverberate today.
As one would imagine, Davis was a deeply complex character. One of his resounding triumphs is that he managed to kick a debilitating heroin addiction when his career was at one of its most successful junctures, with the help of the legendary boxer, Sugar Ray Robinson.
In the fall of 1944, Davis – who began playing the trumpet as a teenager – moved from St. Louis to New York City to study music at The Juilliard School. However, in 1945, he dropped out, joining the influential saxophonist Charlie Parker’s bebop quartet, replacing the equally esteemed Dizzy Gillespie. He then immersed himself, musically and personally, in the 52nd Street scene. Over this period in the late 1940s, he developed his craft, and at home, enjoyed family life with his high school sweetheart Irene and their young family.
However, in the early 1950s, Davis would develop a heroin addiction, changing his life forever. The narcotic was heavily used by the jazz musicians of the day, but he for so long resisted its pull. However, the drug – which led to Parker’s death in 1955 – eventually came knocking, and he could no longer spurn its call.
Given that Davis was known for being so clean-cut and disciplined for years amidst heroin permeating the jazz scene, his fall into addiction was alarming. He later explained how he got so strung out in New York City: “I got bored and was around cats that were hung. So I wound up with a habit.”
Davis’ addiction became so debilitating that it affected his ability to perform and made club owners reluctant to employ him. He borrowed money from his father, and also turned to pimping. After causing a stir practically everywhere he went across America, he moved in with jazz drumming pioneer Max Roach in California, and it was he who showed him the light. At one point, Davis got in an argument with the bartender at a local bar due to the large tab he had accrued, and could not pay. This led to a heated quarrel with Roach, whose ensuing actions had the desired effect.
“But after the argument,” Davis told SPIN in 1985, “Max gave me $200, put it in my pocket, and said I looked good. It drug me so much. I said, ‘That motherfucker gave me $200, told me I looked good, and I’m fucked up and he knows it.’ And he’s my best friend, right? It just embarrassed me to death. I looked in the mirror and said, ‘Goddamn it, Miles, come on.’ So I called my father and he sent me a ticket back to East St. Louis.”
He wasted no time in returning to St. Louis, and Davis’ father informed him that only he could kick his habit. Davis knew it to be true, and immediately locked himself in his bedroom for 12 painful days. A feat of near-Biblical proportions, it was due to the inspiration of the era’s greatest pugilist, Sugar Ray Robinson.
“Sugar Ray Robinson, the boxing champion, inspired me to kick my habit,” Davis continued. “I said, ‘if that mother can win all those fights, I can break this motherfuckin’ habit.’ I went home, man, and sat up for two weeks and sweated it out. I laid down and stared at the ceiling for 12 days and cursed everybody I didn’t like. I was kicking it the hard way. I lay in a cold sweat. My nose and eyes ran. I threw up everything I tried to eat. My pores opened up. Then it was over.”
The struggle was worth it. The rest of the 1950s saw a recharged Davis release some of his most consequential efforts in Birth of the Cool and Kind of Blue.
Editors’ Picks
- 1950s Jazz
- Addiction and Recovery
- Birth of the Cool
- Charlie Parker
- Heroin Epidemic
- Jazz History
- Kind of Blue
- Max Roach
- Miles Davis
- Sugar Ray Robinson
