Kelly's piano work transforms these up-tempo pieces into something lean and purposeful, never showy.
What makes Four & More (1966) stick with you is Wynton Kelly's playing. Not Miles—Kelly. The pianist doesn't solo as much as he should, but his touch on the rhythm side is what drives these fast numbers. He's not comping behind the horn; he's pushing the whole band forward with a kind of restless energy, his left hand busy, his touch crisp. Listen to how he frames the head on the up-tempo cuts. He's there, present, never cluttering the sound but making sure nothing sags. That was Kelly's gift: he could make a rhythm section feel like it was always moving, always about to break open, even when the tempo was already fast. The session itself came from a February 1964 concert at Lincoln Center that was split into two albums—the fast tunes here, the ballads on My Funny Valentine. It's a solid snapshot of Davis's first great quintet, but the real story is Kelly keeping everyone honest. He recorded steadily through the sixties but never got the attention his playing deserved. On this record, though, you can hear why he mattered so much to Miles. The rhythm section—Kelly, Paul Chambers, and Tony Williams—is the reason these pieces feel urgent rather than just quick. This isn't essential Davis, but it's the kind of album that reminds you how much a good pianist can shape a session without calling attention to himself.