James ‘Kokomo’ Arnold was a Blues musician, his intense style of playing and rapid-fire vocal delivery set him apart from his contemporaries. He got his nickname in 1934 after releasing "Old Original Kokomo Blues" about the city of Kokomo, Indiana.

Most sources give the date his birth as 1901, but other research sources give the date as 1896, on the basis of information in the 1900 census. He learned the basics of playing from his cousin.

James began playing in the early 1920s as a sideline, when he was working as a farmhand and as a steelworker. In 1929 he moved to Chicago and ran a bootlegging business, an activity he continued until the end of Prohibition. In 1930 he made his first recordings, Rainy Night Blues and Paddlin' Madeline Blues, using the name Gitfiddle Jim. Shortly after he moved back to Chicago, where after Prohibition ended in 1933 he was forced to make a living as a musician. From his subsequent first recording for Decca, in 1934, until his last, in 1938, Gitfiddle Jim recorded at least 80 sides, seven of which have been lost.

Other notable songs include his 1934 recording of the sexually explicit, a track seldom played on radio because of its content Sissy Man Blues, 

In 1938 James left the music industry and began to work in a Chicago factory.  He was re-located by blues researchers in 1962, but showed no interest in returning to music to take advantage of the resurgence of interest in the blues among young white audiences.

James died of a heart attack in Chicago on November 8, 1968, aged either 67 or 72, and was buried in Burr Oak Cemetery, in Alsip, Illinois.

Where does Jazz fit into your tapestry of the blues? ..... This classic is an improvisation, it needs a little special attention, such as a quiet space to simply let you interpret the music as it flows. Improvising a solo in a jazz club late at night is one thing; but then we talk about improvising a complete album, that album would go on to become the multi-platinum seller 'Kind of Blue'

Miles Davis’ approach to recording on most of his albums was invariably a form of improvisation, including this one, the legendary 'Kind of Blue'. If you were a musician brought in to record with Miles, you wouldn’t be given sheet music ahead of time, or even a rough demo recording to familiarise yourself with. You probably wouldn’t even go in for a rehearsal. Instead, you would be given vague sketches with key changes, and asked to improvise over those changes while the tape rolled. How many bewildered traditional musicians simply scratched their heads and walked away is anyone's guess.

With this particular track, Miles handed his pianist a piece of paper with two chords scribbled on it and asked him what he’d do with them. The result was the album’s standout song. And although Bill Evans wasn’t given a writing credit until 2002, the real credit surely goes to all the musicians in the room, who turned scribbled key changes into a beautifully serene five and a half minutes.