We flew over to Tokyo and settled into the Keio Plaza Hotel. We were supposed to do the shows outdoors, in a large flat lot directly in front of the hotel… The morning of the first concert dawned under a clear sky. Mt. Fuji was clearly visible in the distance, an occurrence that happens only a few times a year, or so we were told. We all took this as an auspicious omen---a feeling shared by the Japanese… By evening, it was slightly cool with a bit of a breeze. As we walked Miles to the stage, Ron played a cassette I had given him of The Who doing "I Can See For Miles" through the P.A. system. Miles heard the song and laughed, which is exactly what I'd intended. There were lasers flashing Miles's name across the skyscrapers surrounding the concert site. Everything was ready. The band took the stage, and Miles waved to the crowd. Both Miles and the band were pushing hard, and I could sense their excitement. The tempo of the first songs were a little fast, but when they hit the blues numbers the musicians settled into a groove… The last number that night was a new tune, called "Jean-Pierre." This was a child's sing-song melody that Miles had heard his ex-wife Frances's little boy singing, and Miles turned it into the show closer. It's the type of catchy melody you feel you've heard before, but can't remember exactly where. Besides being infectious, the tune leaves lots of room for improvising, and begs for call-and-response, and it served the band well for years. I remember a moment on a plane in Europe in 1982 when the band and crew were sitting down and the seat belt sign went off, accompanied by an electronic tone that played the first two notes of "Jean-Pierre." The whole bunch of us, unbidden, sang the rest of the melody out loud, totally surprising the rest of the passengers. << less