Threaded Thursday: The V-Disc Double Feature

Following up on yesterday’s "Frantic" V-Disc, I wanted to share another "secret" recording from that same 1945 window. While the general public had to wait for commercial releases, the troops overseas were treated to Hollywood Hangover.

This track is a masterclass in the "Warehouse" thrill of discovery. Like Frantic Fantasy, it wasn't a standard studio single—it was cut specifically for the men and women in uniform.

Let’s give it a spin:

The "Dope" on the High Notes

The spotlight here belongs to the one and only Cat Anderson.

If you’ve ever wondered why Duke kept Cat (shown at top of page) in the trumpet section off and on for decades, this is your answer. While Rex Stewart (yesterday's star) was playing inside the trumpet with his half-valves, Cat Anderson was playing above it. His ability to hit those "screamer" high notes with pinpoint accuracy was Duke’s ultimate secret weapon!

The Buck Doesn’t Stop

Interestingly, “Hollywood Hangover” isn't an Ellington composition. It was written by Buck Clayton, the star trumpet player for Count Basie’s band who was in the service at the time.

I always wonder what Buck thought of Cat’s trumpet pyrotechnics on his tune! It’s a rare moment where we get to hear the Ellington engine running on a "Basie-style" blueprint.

The V-Disc Connection

One of the most fascinating things about V-Discs is that they gave artists a chance to record songs they never touched for their "official" labels.

Both Frantic Fantasy and Hollywood Hangover were staples of Duke’s radio broadcasts and live appearances during this era, yet he never recorded them for Victor. Without these V-Discs, these performances might have been lost to the Warehouse of history!

Which V-Disc "Secret" do you prefer: Rex’s "Frantic" gymnastics or Cat’s "Hollywood" high notes?

Word Association Wednesday: Getting Frantic

It's Wednesday, so time for a little word association..

(Me thinking) Black and Tan Fantasy... fantasy... Duke Ellington... Got it!

In 1945, Duke recorded another fantasy - Frantic Fantasy – but not as a commercial record!

The "Dope" on the V-Disc

What makes this track special is that it wasn't a standard commercial release. It was recorded as a V-Disc (Victory Disc), produced specifically for the troops overseas during WWII.

Similar to Glenn Miller’s famous St. Louis Blues March, "Frantic Fantasy" was part of the musical effort to keep spirits high on the front lines. These discs weren't sold in stores; they were the "exclusive" sounds of the war era.

And since the infamous recording ban was in effect for much of WWII, the V-Disc program includes a lot of performances that never had a regular sudio recording or release, such as Frantic Fantasy.

Let’s give it a spin:

Love the extra time allowed on the 12-inch V-Disc!

The Half-Valve Gymnast

The star of the show is cornet star Rex Stewart (shown at top of page). If Bubber Miley gave "Black and Tan" its soul, Rex gives "Frantic" its muscle. Using his famous "half-valve" technique—pressing the valves only halfway to create those squeezed, talking tones—he turns the song into a technical masterclass.

The Evolution

It’s fascinating to note how Duke’s idea of a "Fantasy" changed. In 1927, it was a slow-burn funeral march. By 1945, it was a high-octane, "Frantic" showcase for a virtuoso soloist.

Yesterday we looked at Duke’s secret aliases; today we hear his wartime "secret" recordings. Do you prefer the slow-burn "Black and Tan" or the high-velocity "Frantic" V-Disc?

Monday Side-Session: The Flipside of the Fantasy

Yesterday, we heard three versions of Black and Tan Fantasy by Duke Ellington. But what was on the other sides of those records? Let’s find out!

The "Soliloquy" Snafu

Let’s start with the Brunswick version, as credited to The Washingtonians. The flipside of that record was Soliloquy.

I’m not sure why the composer, Rube Bloom, wasn't credited on the label! 

For a fascinating contrast, let’s hear the same song by Paul Whiteman and his Concert Orchestra on this 1927 Victor record:

Interestingly, Rube Bloom’s first name is actually misspelled on that label! Poor guy just couldn’t win.

Paul Whiteman was known as “The King of Jazz” back then, at the very height of his fame, but we know a certain Duke was about to usurp that crown.

The Jabbo Smith Connection

The flipside of the Okeh version of “Black and Tan Fantasy” was another non-Duke tune: What Can a Poor Fellow Do? This session is notable for featuring the great Jabbo Smith subbing for Bubber Miley on trumpet.

I could only find one other period recording of this Billy Meyers and Elmer Schoebel tune. It’s from 1928 by The Original Indiana Five on the Harmony label:

It’s kind of fun, but it also shows exactly the kind of "standard" jazz sound that Duke was rapidly moving away from as he developed his own language.

The Victor Mystery

So, what about the flipside of the Victor version of “Black and Tan Fantasy?” We’ll have to wait until next Sunday to find out!

Sundays with Duke #3: The "Black and Tan" Trilogy

In 1927, Duke Ellington wasn't just leading a band; he was painting scenes. If East St. Louis Toodle-Oo was the band’s calling card, Black and Tan Fantasy was their manifesto.

Duke was so obsessed with this piece that he recorded it for three different labels in a single year. To truly understand the "Warehouse" soul of the Ellington band, you have to hear how the "Fantasy" shifted depending on the room and the players.

I. The Prototype: Brunswick (April 7, 1927)

Recorded under the name "The Washingtonians." This is the rawest version—slightly faster, a bit more "raggy," and you can hear the band still working out the kinks of that haunting atmosphere. 

Let's give that one a spin:

II. The Masterpiece: Victor (October 26, 1927)

This is the "High-Fidelity" version collectors consider the gold standard. The production is cleaner, the mood is darker, and Bubber Miley’s trumpet growl is at its most expressive. And the spelling is wackier!

Let's listen:

The "Dope" on the Growl

The heart of these first two recordings is Bubber Miley. Using a plunger mute and a secret combination of "growling" in his throat, Miley creates a trumpet voice that sounds hauntingly human.

But listen to the very end. As the song fades, Miley quotes Chopin’s "Funeral March." It was a cheeky, morbid wink to the audience—the musical representation of a "Black and Tan" club (where races mixed) being raided, or a night of partying finally meeting the morning sun. It’s a "Fantasy" in the truest sense: a dreamlike journey that starts in a blues stomp and ends at a graveside.

III. The "Hot" Rematch: Okeh (November 3, 1927)

Cladys "Jabbo" Smith

Recorded just eight days after the Victor session, the big "Warehouse" difference here is in the trumpet chair. Jabbo Smith—the young firebrand once considered the only real rival to Louis Armstrong—steps in for Bubber Miley. His presence gives the record a "hotter," more virtuosic edge that contrasts perfectly with Bubber’s bluesy grit!

Here we go:. 

---

The Warehouse Verdict

Why record it three times in one year? Because Duke understood that jazz was a living thing. By comparing these three, you can hear the transition from a 1920s dance band to the most sophisticated musical laboratory in America.

Which one do you prefer? The raw energy of April, the haunting polish of October, or the Jabbo Smith fireworks of November?

---

The Warehouse Intrigue: Labels and Legends

For a contemporaneous-ish cover, we turn to Clyde McCoy on Columbia (1931):

Once again, Clyde's signature wah-wah trumpet translates perfectly to that "jungle" sound!

A bit of intrigue surfaces with the above label...

You would think that the great Louis Armstrong recorded a version of "Black and Tan Fantasy" back in the 1920s, and think "Oh, cool!" - but it's a trick! The British Parlophone label put Satchmo's name on the label because he was better known than Duke at that time!

All was not lost, however. The two giants finally teamed up for the aptly titled Roulette album "Recording Together for the First Time" in 1961. They revisited the "Fantasy" decades later, and the magic was still there:

Here they are:

It's a fantastic fantasy!

Sixties Saturday: Toodles!

Last Sunday, during our look at Duke Ellington’s East St. Louis Toodle-Oo, I mentioned that it made me think of Sally Field as “Gidget” using the expression “toodles” to say goodbye. So why not spend a little time with Gidget today on a cold, wintry day here in New England?

The TV Theme

Here’s the 45-rpm single version of the theme from Sally’s 1965-66 TV series, as recorded by Johnny Tillotson on MGM Records:

Nice tune! Johnny Tillotson, who passed away just last year at age 86, cut a lot of enjoyable records back in the day—from "Poetry in Motion" to this bit of TV theme perfection.

The "Twangy" Bonus

For a bonus, let’s listen to my personal favorite Gidget record, which comes from a sort of unusual source: the twangy guitar man Duane Eddy!

Here’s Duane’s version of the title song from the 1961 Columbia movie “Gidget Goes Hawaiian” on Jamie Records:

I’ve had that 45 for a zillion years and I still dig it! It takes that lighthearted Gidget theme and gives it that signature "low-note" grit that only Duane could provide.

Gidget rules! Toodles!

Threaded Thursday: From the Drums to the Mic

We keep the St. Louis theme going today as we reveal the other side of Ray McKinley—the folksy, singing bandleader!

After WWII, and before he took over the leadership of the legendary Glenn Miller Orchestra in the 1950s, Ray led his own highly successful (and very modern) band as both drummer and vocalist. We’ll do a deeper dive on Ray soon—he’s truly one of the great "side characters" of the era—but right now, let's dig into his big 1948 hit on RCA Victor: You Came a Long Way from St. Louis. 

Let's give it a spin:

Pretty cool!

The Folksy Frontman

Ray had a relaxed, drawling vocal style that made it sound like he always "knew the score." Despite the easygoing delivery, he never loses that drummer’s sense of timing; he places his phrases exactly where they need to be to make the song swing.

A look at the label shows the side credited to "Ray McKinley and Some of the Boys." That is just so perfectly McKinley-esque—a down-home, unpretentious way of saying it’s just a small contingent of the band backing him up.

The Modern Touch

While the vocal is folksy, the arrangement is incredibly forward-thinking for 1948. Notice that Paul Kashishian (Kashian) is credited as the drummer here, playing a sparse, atmospheric part that mostly features bongos. It gives the track a "cool jazz" feel long before that term became a marketing slogan.

Ray always insisted on modern, sophisticated charts for his band, proving he was much more than just a "military march" man.

The Warehouse Verdict

So, there you have it: the two sides of Ray McKinley. He was the technically brilliant Sergeant who could get an entire army marching in St. Louis, and the hip, "small-town" vocalist who could tell you exactly how it is once you think you’ve "come a long way."

Whether he was behind the kit or behind the mic, Ray McKinley always delivered the "real dope."

Word Association Wednesday: Crossing the River to the "Blues March"

It’s Wednesday, so time for some more word association! 

Duke Ellington’s East St. Louis Toodle-O naturally makes me think of the "other" side of the river—St. Louis, Missouri. From there, it’s a short ride on the train of thought to the W.C. Handy classic St. Louis Blues, and an even shorter trip to the St. Louis Blues March, the famous Jerry Gray arrangement that became a powerhouse for Glenn Miller’s AAF (Army Air Force) Band.

So, let’s give it a spin:

The Strike-Breaker: The V-Disc Loophole

That comes from a special V-Disc recording session. This session was allowed to happen even though it was 1943—smack-dab in the middle of the infamous AFM recording ban.

While the rest of the music world was silenced by the strike, V-Discs were exempt because they were intended for military use only. They were the only "new" sounds the GIs had, and they weren't available for commercial sale. It gave the AAF band a "sonic monopoly" that cemented this arrangement as a legend.

The Sergeant on the Skins

Being a march, the rhythm is everything. That relentless, crisp cadence is provided by drummer Ray McKinley. At this point, Ray was a Technical Sergeant under his old friend (and now Captain) Glenn Miller.

McKinley’s precision here is staggering. He had to take a blues song—something meant for a smoky basement—and turn it into something 1,000 men could march to without breaking stride. He doesn't just play the drums; he commands them.

The Post-War Strut: Tex Beneke (1948)

Ray McKinley eventually took over the Miller Orchestra in the mid-1950s, but Tex Beneke was the man who first carried the torch right after the war. In late 1947, Tex cut this version of the "St. Louis Blues March" for RCA Victor, this time featuring drummer Jack Sperling in the hot seat.

This is a classic case of a sprawling AAF arrangement needing to be "trimmed for the tailor"—cut down to fit the 3-minute time constraints of a 10-inch 78rpm record. Even with the edits, 1948 listeners were thrilled to finally own a commercial copy of the tune they’d heard on the radio during the war. It was a massive hit for Tex, though, in the Warehouse, we know you still can’t beat that original AAF V-Disc.

A clear victory for the Sergeant!