Miles Davis Hits Highs, Lows in Golden Feather Awards : Jazz: Bobby McFerrin won the Grammy song of the year. Jazz fans had money to spend. There were more records, more festivals, more tours, even a little more jazz on TV.

Pardon us for mixing our metals, but next month marks the silver anniversary of the Golden Feather Awards. The first of these surveys were for the year 1965. So much has changed during this momentous quarter-century that it seems fitting to start with a few retrospective thoughts before tackling the 1989 agenda.

As 1965 came to a close, Wynton Marsalis had recently turned 4. Two members of the vocal group Take 6 were yet to be born; the oldest was 3. (Their 1965 counterpart was the long-since-defunct Double Six of Paris.)

Riding high, triply triumphant that year, was John Coltrane: Hall of Fame winner in Down Beat as well as musician of the year and creator of the record of the year, “A Love Supreme.” Coltrane would die 18 months later, but so enduring is his legacy that “A Love Supreme” is the title of a Spike Lee movie now in production.

Other winners of that poll have left us: Paul Desmond, Gil Evans, Charles Mingus, Duke Ellington. But some things remain constant: then as now Gerry Mulligan was the No. 1 baritone saxophonist, J. J. Johnson the victorious trombonist, Milt Jackson at the head of the class on vibraphone and Jimmy Smith the pre-eminent organist.

As the 1990s loom, today’s jazz differs vastly from that of the 1960s. Fusion, as we understand the term today, was all but unknown, as were most of the electronic instruments. More than ever, jazz now is a pluralistic society that allows space for a multitude of idioms. Who in 1965 could have foretold the various jazz/rock mixtures? The blues revival? Who knew New Age?

In 1989, for the first time, a jazz artist, Bobby McFerrin, won Grammy awards for song of the year and record of the year (for composing and singing “Don’t Worry, Be Happy”), as well as two male vocal awards. Take 6, Manhattan Transfer, Chick Corea and Roger Kellaway all were winners in one category or another.

This was the year when jazz literally toured the world, as pianist Gene Harris led his Philip Morris Superband on an unprecedented five-continent hegira. Domestically it was a year that saw an amazing effusion of jazz on compact discs--hundreds of new releases along with countless reissues of classics.

Are jazz fans wealthier than most other record buyers? It would seem so. This month’s “Brownie: The Complete EmArcy Recordings of Clifford Brown” consisted of 10 CDs priced at $150. The nine Bill Evans Fantasy CDs went for $140. Both were bargains compared to the “Complete Art Pepper” on Galaxy, 16 CDs at $225.

Though LPs are obsolescent, loyalists still exist: Mosaic Records has released, on a 23-LP set, a second volume of treasures from the Commodore Records catalogue, by mail only at $217, including shipping.

In general, then, a heavy year, with more records, more festivals, more jazz parties, more international exchanges, even a little more jazz on TV.

Onward and upward to the 25th annual Golden Feather Awards:

* Record of the Year: “Aura.” Miles Davis (Columbia CK 45332). Although Davis’ recent “Amandla” has been more widely and less justifiably publicized, this Copenhagen recording finds him back at a level of achievement close to that of his palmiest Gil Evans days. The compositions by Palle Mikkelborg are at times evocative of Evans’ best work, and Davis’ horn is in his most inspired contemporary mood. One can understand his anger at CBS for delaying by almost five years the release of this invaluable album.

* Reissue of the Year: “Jazz Piano” (Smithsonian A4 21010). The four CDs encompass almost everything from James P. Johnson and Fats Waller to Keith Jarrett and Herbie Hancock, with multiple representation of the true giants (Art Tatum, Earl Hines, Bud Powell).

* Vocal Album of the Year: “Love You Madly.” Carol Sloane (Contemporary CCD-14049-2). The ideal combination: a singer who thinks and feels like a musician; a backup group that includes Art Farmer, Clifford Jordan, Kenny Barron and Kenny Burrell; arrangements by Richard Rodney Bennett; a banality-free choice of songs.

* Book of the Year: “The Swing Era--The Development of Jazz 1940-1945” by Gunther Schuller (Oxford University Press). A magnificently researched volume by a brilliant musician, this is the logical successor to Schuller’s seminal “Early Jazz: Its Roots and Musical Development” (Oxford, 1968).

* Movie of the Year: “Thelonious Monk--Straight No Chaser.” Produced by Charlotte Zwerin and Bruce Ricker. A unique assemblage of old, live footage by the pianist and his group, along with recently taped comments by friends about his rough-hewn career.

* Television program of the Year: “Satchmo.” Gary Giddins and Toby Byron put together this 90-minute documentary as a counterpart to their similarly titled book. The early clips of Armstrong’s film appearances alone qualify this as a historically important production.

On the other side of the coin, there were several outstanding negatives that fall, as always, into the wilted-feather category:

Forgettable Movie of the Year: “Let’s Get Lost.” A totally unnecessary and tasteless look at the self-destructive life of an overrated talent, Chet Baker.

Regrettable Book of the Year: “Miles--the Autobiography” (by Miles Davis with Quincy Troupe). Not unnecessary, but unnecessarily sensational, vulgar, obscenity-packed and unworthy of a long-admired performer.

Most Embarrassing TV Moment of the Year: Harry Reasoner trying to interview Miles Davis on “60 Minutes.”

Second Most Embarrassing TV Moment of the Year: Arsenio Hall trying to interview Miles Davis.

Blue Notes of the Year: We lost Wild Bill Davison, Freddie Waits, Lu Watters, Bill Barron, Irv Cottler, Will Bradley, Julian Adderley Sr., John Green, Woody Shaw, Arnold Shaw, Nesuhi Ertegun, Max Gordon, Arnett Cobb, Tiny Grimes, Roy Eldridge, Reunald Jones, Eddie Heywood Jr., Phineas Newborn Jr., Lud Gluskin, John Audino and others too numerous to list--and in many cases too young to leave us.