May 26, 2026 will mark the 100th birthday of music icon Miles Dewey Davis. Across the region, tributes have poured in for the Alton-born, East St. Louis–raised genius who expanded the very possibility of sound through the lens of jazz. Out of Miles’ horn came ideas that shifted the trajectory of American music. What has been most striking about the local celebrations is how clearly they reveal the breadth and depth of his influence.
On Saturday night, fellow East St. Louis native Anthony Wiggins demonstrated the local influence of Davis when he added his voice to Jazz St. Louis’ Miles in May Centennial Celebration. Wiggins’ “The Legacy Lives On” set offered insight into the musical dexterity that defined Davis’s career and how it has shaped Wiggins’ approached as a trumpeter.
From straight-ahead swing to bebop, post-bop, the blues and a stone-cold groove, Wiggins and his “friends” — Adam Maness on keys, Kwanae Johnson on tenor sax, Zeb Briscovich on bass and Miles Vandiver on drums — used the Ferring Jazz Bistro stage to honor Davis not only as an innovator, but as a master of reinvention.
Wiggins shared a few stories, including how Davis first met his mentor Charlie Parker in St. Louis. Wiggins said Parker, then playing saxophone with Billy Eckstine’s band, needed a trumpet player for a gig. “Miles was asked if he had a union card, and he said yes,” Wiggins told the crowd. “That’s how that connection began — right here in St. Louis.”
Davis and Parker would reconnect in New York, where Davis was enrolled at Juilliard. He left school to study Parker instead — a decision that gave him the tools to become a singular figure in music.
Throughout the night, Wiggins interpreted the tone of Davis’ horn and the patience with which he delivered each note. Davis’ compositions gave every instrument its own distinct presence — individually and as a collective. He organized his bands so that every voice mattered. And although trumpet was his chosen instrument, he never favored it over the ensemble. Some of his writing suggests that if he had it to do again, he might have chosen the tenor saxophone.
Wiggins honored that sensibility through Johnson’s playing. The harmonies and melodic lines underscored the saxophone’s role as an anchor in the jazz tradition — from bop to post-bop to Davis’ fusion period, where the horn often mimicked the shimmer of an electric organ with an almost autotuned edge.
The ebb and flow between Briscovich’s bass and Maness’ piano created a swing that framed the bop in Wiggins’ horn. He was sparing with the riffs, but when he laid them down, they landed — especially during their take on “Dig.”
Wiggins reminded the audience that “Dig” is a contrafact of the jazz standard “Sweet Georgia Brown.” “The way musicians made money during those days was they would take already established chord changes and put their own melody on it,” he explained.
From “Dig,” the group moved into “My Funny Valentine,” which Wiggins dedicated to his sister, who was undergoing a kidney transplant that night. They approached the tune like a vocal trio with three lead singers.
Wiggins went first — the Billie Holiday of the group. His muted, haunting melody set the intention for the nearly eight-minute performance. Maness followed with intricate chord progressions that shifted the tune’s emotional center; he was the Sarah Vaughan of the trio, making the piano scat, riff and run. Briscovich closed with a tone reminiscent of Cassandra Wilson’s contralto — slow, heavy and full of weight.
“Are you feeling what we’re dealing?” Wiggins asked. He was met with a rousing applause.
They moved into “Freddie Freeloader,” the lone selection from Davis’ Kind of Blue, the best-selling jazz album of all time. While the album is celebrated for its modal approach, “Freddie Freeloader” is Davis’ reminder that the blues is the foundation. Wiggins leaned into that truth, letting the rhythm section do the heavy lifting — and Briscovich and Vandiver delivered.
Before the next tune, Wiggins offered his only prepared remarks of the night. After sharing the recording and release date — and noting that it was written by Jimmy Heath — he explained the significance of the piece.
“This offering showcases how Miles’ deeper exploration of modal performance used looser forms, tempos and time meters,” Wiggins said. “Post-bop — an approach that is abstract and intense. A space created for rhythmic and coloristic independence. An approach that incorporated whole harmonies, flexible form, structured choruses, melodic variation and free improvisations.”
“Ladies and gentlemen, we present to you: ‘Gingerbread Boy.’”
The tune carried a New Orleans-style rhythmic undercurrent, with Wiggins and Johnson playing in unison before the electric bass and piano took off.
Then Wiggins dug into Davis’ funk bag with “Jean Pierre.” Recorded in 1982, it was the most modern track of the night. Echoes of Sly Stone and P-Funk pulsed through the arrangement, along with the influence of Roger Troutman and Zapp in Johnson’s electrified horn and Maness’ synthesized keys.
“You always knew that the piano was a two-handed instrument,” Wiggins said. “But today you found out that the piano was a two-instrument instrument.”
They closed the show with “The Theme.”
In a night dedicated to honoring Miles Davis, Wiggins and his ensemble illuminated the evolutionary value of his music. They showed how Davis stretched the blues, reshaped harmony, reimagined rhythm and expanded the vocabulary of jazz in particular — and music in general.
Living It content is produced with funding by the ARPA for the Arts grants program in partnership with the Regional Arts Commission of St. Louis and the Community Development Administration.
