Sundays with Duke #9: Three Little Words, One Big Ghost

We move into 1930 with Duke Ellington and come across Three Little Words - a song that was a massive hit for him, though it was a rare case of a "Duke hit" not actually written by Duke or anyone in his band. This one comes from the legendary songwriting team of Bert Kalmar and Harry Ruby.

The Silver Screen Connection

The song was featured in the (not-yet RKO) Radio picture Check and Double Check, which starred Freeman Gosden and Charles Correll in their famous radio roles of Amos 'n' Andy.

While the problematic nature of Amos 'n' Andy is well-documented, the film remains a vital piece of history for jazz fans because it provides a rare opportunity to actually see the Duke Ellington Orchestra in their 1930 prime.

The Record: Duke & The Rhythm Boys

Duke recorded Three Little Words for Victor Records, and he brought in some heavy hitters for the vocal: The Rhythm Boys. This trio - comprising Al Rinker, Harry Barris, and a very young Bing Crosby - had recently been the breakout stars for Paul Whiteman.

After leaving the “King of Jazz,” they were essentially freelancers when they teamed up with Duke. In the film, you hear their voices, but you don't see them; because of the segregation rules of the time, the film used "ghosting"—the white trio sang off-camera while black members of Duke’s band mimed the words.

Let's give it a spin:

You can definitely hear how this record has more of a mainstream sound than the “jungle” records of Duke’s band at the time. Still with that little something extra, though!

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The Contrast: The Smile of Beauty (1930)

To see just how differently this song could be handled in the same year, we turn to The Ipana Troubadours, a studio band led by Sam Lanin and featured on a popular radio show sponsored by said toothpaste.

Here’s their Columbia record featuring vocalist Paul Small: 

Definitely more "square" than Duke’s version, it reflects the “dance band” sound of the time - the sound that the Casa Loma Orchestra was just starting to threaten. It’s also a perfect illustration of 1930s pop culture: a record of a radio show orchestra playing a song from a movie based on a radio show!

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The Crooning Troubadour (1931)

Anybody else want that sweet guitar?

We go from a band of troubadours to just open - The “Crooning Troubadour,” Nick Lucas! Guitar and ukulele-playing vocalists like Nick were extremely popular in the mid-to-late 1920s and were still hanging around in the early 1930s before the "Crosby style" took over completely.

Here’s his take for Brunswick from early 1931:

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The Standard: Claude Hopkins (1934)

Three Little Words quickly became a jazz standard. One of my favorite follow-ups from the 1930s comes from pianist and bandleader Claude Hopkins, who recorded this snappy instrumental version for Brunswick Records in 1934:

It’s a great record from an underrated band that shows just how much "swing" could be squeezed out of those three little words!

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The "Export Only" Rarity: Gene Krupa (1935)

By 1935, the song was so popular that musicians were looking for any excuse to record it. Star drummer Gene Krupa led a small group of musicians pulled from the Benny Goodman Orchestra for this session. Interestingly, this "Chicago Jazz" version wasn't released in the States initially - it was produced specifically for the European market! 

Here's Gene and they boys on the British Parlophone label:

Very intriguing to compare this to the smoother swing of BG's full orchestra!

Which version makes you say those three little words? 

Three Little words is best-remembered (if at all) these days as the title of a 1950 MGM movie purporting to tell the story of Bert Kalmar and Harry Ruby. But that's another story for another day.

Sixties Saturday: R.I.P. Neil Sedaka

 

R.I.P. Neil Sedaka

Threaded Thursday: The Evolution of a Stomp

Yesterday, we saw how the Casa Loma Orchestra and Fletcher Henderson were competing for the “hot” crown in 1931. Today, we’re pulling a thread that spans nearly a decade to see how one specific arrangement by Fletcher Henderson eventually set the world on fire.

While Benny Goodman eventually became the “King of Swing” using Fletcher’s charts, Henderson had been refining this particular “Stomp” for years with his own band.

The Prototype (1928)

Here is Henderson’s first pass at Jelly Roll Morton’s classic tune. It’s "hot jazz," but you can still hear the remnants of the 1920s “oom-pah” rhythm. It’s a great record, but it hasn't quite learned how to swing in the modern sense yet.

The Breakthrough: "New King Porter Stomp" (1932)

By 1932—the same era as our Casa Loma discussion yesterday—Henderson updated the chart. This version features the same "Connie's Inn" powerhouse lineup we talked about yesterday, including Coleman Hawkins and Rex Stewart. You can hear the "riff" style starting to take over the driver's seat.

The Blueprint (1933)

One year later, Fletcher recorded it again. This is essentially the “final draft.” The brass and reeds are playing off each other with a precision that rivals the Casa Loma boys, but with that unmistakable Henderson drive and soul.

The Explosion: Benny Goodman (1935)

Finally, the thread reaches its destination. In 1934, a struggling Fletcher Henderson began selling his arrangements to a young Benny Goodman. In 1935, Benny’s orchestra took this exact blueprint into the studio and created the anthem of the Swing Era.

The X-Factor: While the arrangement was Henderson's, we have to give props to the legendary Bunny Berigan for adding that "little something extra." His electrifying, soaring trumpet solo provided the spark that put this version over the top. It’s the sound of a soloist at the peak of his powers. And with BG's clarinet and Gene Krupa's drums, a great arrangement turned into a cultural phenomenon!

Is it overkill to listen to four versions of the same song in one go? Not in the Warehouse! Watching history being written in real-time is half the fun. Which version has the most “stomp” for your dough?

Word Association Wednesday: The Stomp!

For today’s Word Association Wednesday, it was a relatively short jaunt from 1929’s Cotton Club Stomp to 1931’s “Casa Loma Stomp,” which was naturally performed by the Casa Loma Orchestra!

The Architects of Precision

Let’s listen to the band’s recording (the first of many recordings of the song) on OKeh:

That’s prime, early Casa Loma, showing off the band’s intricately arranged and performed style. Arranger Gene Gifford also composed the song and was largely responsible for the band’s signature sound.

At this point, the Casa Loma Orchestra had been incorporated for a couple of years and included longtime members Glen Gray on sax and Pee Wee Hunt on trombone. Glen was the leader but didn’t front the band as conductor yet, which is why the label doesn’t show "Glen Gray and the Casa Loma Orchestra" as future labels would.

The Casa Loma Orchestra is an early example of a white dance band performing jazz music that’s roughly comparable to what Black bands of the time were playing—although in a more “rehearsed” sounding manner than, say, Duke Ellington’s.

The "Connie’s Inn" Contrast

For an interesting contrast, let’s spin a contemporary cover version of Casa Loma Stomp by Connie’s Inn Orchestra on the budget Melotone label:

Despite the name sounding like a real band à la the Casa Loma Orchestra, Connie’s Inn Orchestra was actually a pseudonym for the great Fletcher Henderson Orchestra! At the time this was recorded, the group included the legendary Coleman Hawkins on tenor sax and future Ellington star Rex Stewart on trumpet.

It's not particularly a stretch to say that the groundwork laid by the Casa Loma band, combined with the arrangements of Fletcher Henderson, led directly to the future success of Benny Goodman and the Swing Era!

Which band makes you stomp and yell for more? Do you prefer the clockwork precision of Gifford's arrangement or the fire of the Henderson boys?

Monday Side Session: The "Mizz" Connection

Yesterday we celebrated the 10th anniversary of Cotton Club Stomp with Duke Ellington’s 1939 remake. But if you flip that 78-rpm shellac over, you find a fascinating "side sesh" story involving one of Duke’s biggest admirers: Charlie Barnet.

The B-side is a moody little number called In A Mizz, and the history behind it is a tangled web of Ellington influence.

The Duke Version (1939)

In A Mizz was actually co-written by bandleader Charlie Barnet. Charlie famously idolized Duke (once saying he’d rather have a mediocre Ellington record than a great one by anyone else), so it must have been a massive thrill for him when the Maestro decided to record his song.

Duke gave it to the incomparable Ivie Anderson, who turns "The Mizz" (slang for a miserable mood) into something hauntingly beautiful.

The Barnet Version... featuring "Ellington"

To bring the thread full circle, Charlie Barnet recorded his own version for Bluebird that same year. But here is the kicker: the vocalist on Charlie’s record was a singer named Judy Ellington!

Despite the name, she wasn't related to Duke, but having an "Ellington" sing a song by an Ellington-worshipper that Duke himself was also recording? That’s the kind of synchronicity we live for in the Warehouse.

Two different takes on "The Mizz"—one by the Master and one by the Student. Which version cures your Monday blues?

Sundays with Duke #8: Stomping at the Cotton Club

Moving into 1929 with Duke Ellington, we find Cotton Club Stomp, a tune obviously named after the famed nightclub that was home to Duke and his band at the time.

The Victor Original

Let’s listen to the initial 1929 version on Victor Records:

By this time, the band had parted ways with original trumpet star Bubber Miley, who was apparently as unreliable as he was talented. But Duke came up with a great replacement in Cootie Williams, who was able to carry on the growling plunger-mute style of Bubber while also developing his own distinct, powerful voice.

The Name Game

The name game continued when the Ellington band recorded a version of Cotton Club Stomp for Brunswick in 1930, this time under the Jungle Band moniker.

Let's give that one a spin:

The flipside of that Brunswick record was another stomper with the then-topical title of Wall Street Wail: 

I sometimes see these two identified as the same song with different titles to get around contract exclusivity, but I don't think they’re the same song at all. And Brunswick wouldn’t put the same song on two sides of the same record, right? Listening to them side-by-side, you can hear that while they share that "Jungle" DNA, they are distinct arrangements.

The 1939 Remake

Duke and the boys revisited “Cotton Club Stomp” in 1939, also for Brunswick, with an updated arrangement—this time credited to Duke Ellington and his Famous Orchestra:

I don't think any other band covered "Cotton Club Stomp" at the time, and no one seems to have remade it since, except as modern recreations. Some songs are just uniquely Ellingtonian!

Stomping or wailing, no one did it better!

Threaded Thursday: The Voices in the Fog

Yesterday we listened to some instrumental versions of Erroll Garner’s classic composition Misty, so let’s hear some vocal versions today!

Misty was already popular before it had words, but I think it’s the lyrics added by veteran songwriter Johnny Burke that made it a standard. Whatever the case, it’s hard to imagine that it didn’t always have lyrics!

The Original: Dakota Staton (1957)

A fun part of doing a deep dive into a particular song is discovering that the first recorded version might not be what you think it was! Case in point: Dakota Staton was the first vocalist to record Misty with lyrics when she included it on her 1957 album The Late, Late Show for Capitol Records.

Kind of intriguing that the first vocal version of Misty was something of a deep cut on an artist’s debut album!

The "Divine" Influence: Sarah Vaughan (1959)

The song got a bit more traction when the great Sarah Vaughan recorded it for Mercury as part of her Vaughan and Violins album, as well as including it as the B-side of her big hit Broken-Hearted Melody in 1959.

The Blockbuster: Johnny Mathis (1959)

Apparently Johnny Mathis thought Sarah’s record was divine, and he recorded his version of Misty for his Columbia album Heavenly later in 1959. A 45-rpm single of the song was released and became a massive hit, solidifying the song’s permanent place in the Great American Songbook.

The "Intimate" Miss Christy (1963)

Something that I think is very cool is that “The Misty Miss Christy” – June Christy – recorded her own version! It was included on her 1963 album The Intimate Miss Christy for Capitol.

Oh, yes, Miss Christy was both misty and intimate!

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Which version makes you mistiest? Are you team Staton, Vaughan, Mathis, or Christy?