That was the gist of Miles' response to Coltrane's "I don't know how to stop" defense of his long-winded solos. And from the time they first met around 1950 in New York right up to their last encounter before Coltrane died in a hospital room in 1967, Davis often warned John about his excesses — musical and otherwise.

In one, often-cited exchange in 1956, Miles slapped his tenorman "upside his head," punched him in the stomach and fired him off his band.

But Coltrane kept coming back, even after he had cut his epic "Giant Steps" in 1959 with another group, using — or stealing, as Miles implied — Davis' own "modal" approach to music. And even though their relationship was confrontational at best, they needed each other.

As reflected in their many great recordings together, Coltrane had the ability to innovate, to interpret Davis' often far-out ideas so that they could be heard, not just imagined. Milestones from 1958 and Kind of Blue in the following year are usually the albums cited as the best examples of this. But, in fact, it happened almost every time they shared a bandstand.

From their first meeting at the Audubon Ballroom in New York in 1950, through their last date in March 1961 following a short but successful tour of Europe, the deep and involved cushions of sound emerging from Coltrane's tenor provided a good target for Davis' terse, sharp stabs.

Davis was never more effusive with his praise of any other musician, although their personal differences put Coltrane out of the running as Davis' "best man." But here's a little twist of trivia: Miles came close to being "best man" for 'Trane as he and his band witnessed John's wedding to Naima in Baltimore.

That moment in 1955 when Coltrane said "I do" may have been only time in their stormy relationship when Davis didn't chide him for being long-winded.

— By Malcolm B. Davis