Sunday with Duke #23: A Song from the Heart

Moving into 1938 with Duke Ellington, we land on another of his classic compositions that became a standard in the Great American Songbook: I Let a Song Go Out of My Heart.

Duke's First Word

Ellington first recorded the tune as an instrumental on March 3, 1938 for Brunswick, and it quickly became a major hit - one of those three‑minute gems where the band’s personality shines through every bar.

Let’s spin it:

That’s just a tremendous record. The interplay between Johnny Hodges on alto sax and Harry Carney on baritone is pure Ellington magic - two voices that know exactly how to lean into and away from each other. Lawrence Brown (trombone) and Barney Bigard (clarinet) also turn in beautifully shaped solos.

The song was written for The 4th Cotton Club Parade, and lyrics by Henry Nemo followed almost immediately.

Johnny Floats It In

Later that same month - March 28, 1938 - Duke participated in a vocal recording of the tune with a Johnny Hodges–fronted small group featuring vocalist Mary McHugh, issued on Vocalion.

Let’s hear that one:

This little unit is a delight: Otto Hardwick and Harry Carney join Johnny in the sax section, with Lawrence Brown and Cootie Williams rounding out the brass. The rhythm section is classic Ellington - Duke on piano, Fred Guy on guitar, Billy Taylor on bass, and Sonny Greer on drums.

I don’t know much about Mary McHugh beyond her handful of appearances with the Hodges small groups, but I like her! She brings a light, unaffected charm to the lyric.

And as for Johnny himself - these 1938 sides show him at his most effortless. There’s something about his playing that just floats: ethereal, singing, and yet delivered with that famously dour, deadpan expression. Truly one of a kind!

Joya "Crushes" It

As with many of Duke’s popular songs, I Let a Song Go Out of My Heart became a staple of his repertoire, though he didn’t revisit it often in the studio - perhaps because it leans more toward the pop side of his songbook than the jazz side.

He did return to it in 1945, when he recorded new versions of earlier hits for Victor. This one features a vocal by my retro‑crush Joya Sherrill:

It’s great to have this full band vocal version alongside the original instrumental - a reminder of how adaptable the tune is.

Rosie in Full Bloom

Jumping ahead to 1956, Duke recorded a backing track for Rosemary Clooney, who overdubbed her vocal for the Blue Rose album on Columbia.

We previously heard Rosie’s take on Sophisticated Lady from the same album, and this one has that same mix of poise and warmth.

Taking it to the Pops

And speaking of Sophisticated Lady, we also heard Duke revisit it on his 1966 RCA album The Duke at Tanglewood with Arthur Fiedler and the Boston Pops. That album includes a lovely instrumental version of I Let a Song Go Out of My Heart, so let’s spin that too:

A graceful, late‑career reading - polished, affectionate, and unmistakably Duke!

So there you have it: a handful of wonderful versions of the song Duke let out of his heart.

Threaded Thursday: Indecision

Yesterday we heard Charlie Shavers’ Dawn on the Desert, so let’s tug that thread a little further and find Charlie’s best‑known composition — the standard Undecided.

📡 Title by Telegram

As with Dawn on the Desert, Charlie wrote the tune while playing trumpet with John Kirby’s small band. He submitted it to his publisher without a title, and when they wired him asking what to call it, Charlie wired back: “undecided.” They took him literally — and the tune had a name. And if that story isn’t true… it ought to be!

Let’s hear Charlie and the rest of the Onyx Club Boys on their 1938 Decca recording:

They had a great sound — they really were The Biggest Little Band in the Land.

🥁 Red Rolls In

The catchy tune started making the rounds, and Red Norvo cut a version for Brunswick later in 1938:

Sounds good!

🎙️ Sauter’s “Job Interview”

I’m presuming Eddie Sauter wrote the arrangement for Red’s recording, though the paper trail is a little fuzzy. What’s clearer is that Sauter did arrange a version of Undecided as something of a “job interview” for Benny Goodman — who recorded it for Victor only a week after Red’s take.

Let’s spin BG’s version:

Interesting that both Benny’s and Red’s records jump straight into the melody with no introduction. A clue… or just coincidence? Whatever the case, Eddie got the job!

The Goodman band was in a transitional period here: Gene Krupa had recently left to form his own band, and Harry James would soon follow. BG also shifted from Victor to Columbia within a few months. But the records? They always sounded great.

💃 Ella Makes It Easy

As with many popular instrumentals, Undecided quickly acquired lyrics — courtesy of Sid Robin (he of the alternate Harlem Nocturne lyrics) — and the tune began circulating as a vocal number.

In early 1939, Chick Webb recorded a knockout version for Decca with Ella Fitzgerald:

The song fits the Chick/Ella combination like a glove.

🎹 Fats Has His Fun

Then Fats Waller took a turn for Bluebird:

Fats was an interesting character. His version here feels a bit tongue‑in‑cheek, as he toys with the tune. I always wonder whether he did that with songs he liked… or with songs the A&R folks told him to record.

📈 The 1951 Revival

Like many songs, Undecided kept popping up over the years — but it roared back in a big way in 1951 when The Ames Brothers recorded a smash version for Coral, backed by Les Brown and his Band of Renown:

I absolutely love this one. It’s been a favorite of mine forever — just a blast!

🌟 Capitol Can’t Resist

With the tune hot again, Capitol had Ray Anthony record it:

Ray’s version, featuring Tommy Mercer, Gloria Craig and The Skyliners, was also popular and also fun.

🎷 Benny Brings it Back

Let’s close with a 1952 version that brings the tune back toward its roots: an extended arrangement by the Benny Goodman Sextet on Columbia:

A solid workout and a great sendoff.

One thing we’re not undecided about: it’s a great tune!

Word Association Wednesday: Desert Dusk and Dawn

To follow last Sunday's Duke Ellington/Juan Tizol classic Caravan for today's word association, my mind wandered to where that caravan might be headed. A desert… desert…

🌙 Duke at Dusk

...and sure enough, Duke had a tune called Dusk in the Desert from 1937 — the very same year as Caravan.

Let’s spin the Brunswick disc:

It’s a fun, slightly off‑kilter number with some unusual voicings. As far as I can tell, Duke never revisited it, which makes this one feel like a little sand‑swept postcard from a moment he didn’t return to.

🌅 Shavers at Sunrise

(l-r) O'Neill Spencer, Charlie Shavers, John Kirby, Buster Bailey, Russell Procope and pianist Billy Kyle - apparently not happy about having their picture taken!

But the desert has two edges to its day, and intriguingly, there’s a Dawn on the Desert from 1939, written by trumpeter Charlie Shavers. Charlie was with the John Kirby Sextet at the time, and they recorded it for Vocalion:

This one has that moody, exotic, hypnotic Caravan vibe with Buster Bailey’s clarinet guiding us through the early‑morning haze.

🎺 Tommy Takes the Trail

Charlie then got the tune to Tommy Dorsey, who recorded his own version for Victor later in 1939:

Deane Kincaide’s arrangement stays close to Charlie’s original, but swaps the clarinet for TD’s trombone. It changes the color of the melody in a way that feels surprisingly natural.

I don’t know if this tune is what first put Charlie Shavers on Tommy’s radar, but a few years later, in 1945, Charlie joined the Dorsey band — becoming its first Black musician. A tremendous talent, and one of those players who could brighten any ensemble he touched.

🧭 Choose Your Horizon

So as our little caravan rolls on, I’m curious where your ear settles in the sand — does dusk pull you in, or does dawn call your name?

Tuesday Tidbit: The Singers Join the Caravan

Yesterday we roamed through a whole caravan of instrumental versions of the Juan Tizol/Duke Ellington classic Caravan. There are so many instrumental takes that you can almost forget the tune even has lyrics. So today, we let the singers climb aboard.

Mills Magic in the Mirage

We’ll warm up with a “vocal” version that doesn’t actually feature the lyrics at all — the fabulous Mills Brothers and their patented instrument imitations on this 1938 Decca recording:

They often imitated instruments on their 1930s records, but this is the only one I know where they skip sung lyrics entirely. Pretty cool!

Also cool: this 1942 Soundie of the Mills performing Caravan:

I’m not sure why they’re dressed like that, but they sound terrific — and the dancing is snazzy.

Valaida's Vocal Venture

The first version to actually feature the lyrics came from Valaida, the singer/trumpeter, on this Swedish recording from 1939:

I’m not sure whether it was released in the U.S. at the time. Valaida Snow was American, but like several other Black artists of the era, she found greater popularity in Europe.

Mr. B Meets the Mirage

We have to jump all the way to 1949 for the first version with lyrics on a major American label. That honor goes to Billy Eckstine on MGM:

Billy’s voice fits the mysterious mood of the song beautifully, and Hugo Winterhalter’s accompaniment wraps around him like desert night air.

Nat Navigates the Night Sky

Next stop: 1957, for something of an “authorized” version from Nat King Cole. I say that because Juan Tizol himself brings his valve trombone to the session for Nat’s Capitol album After Midnight:

It sounds wonderful — Nat’s trio is joined by Jack Costanza on bongos to deepen the atmosphere. An awesome album, by the way!

Even better, Nat performed the tune on his TV show with Juan right there beside him:

So cool to see them in action!

Bobby Brings the Breeze

We skip ahead to 1960 for one more vocal Caravan, this time from Bobby Darin on his Atco album This Is Darin:

You just can’t beat Bobby singing a standard. That's an awesome album as well!

And here’s Bobby again, performing the same arrangement on TV in 1973:

He looks and sounds so good that it’s hard to believe he’d be gone within a year.

So, the vocal caravan may not be as long as the instrumental one, but there are some real gems in these dunes!

Warehouse Whispers

One last wandering thought as our caravan heads home: I’ve always been curious about Irving Mills’ credits on these songs. Did he actually ever make any contributions? He’s listed as the sole lyricist for Caravan, but did he actually write them? Did he hire a ghostwriter? Did a passing sandstorm blow the paperwork into his lap? And while Duke shares composer credit with Juan Tizol, most folks agree Juan brought in that hypnotic melody, with Duke adding his usual Ellington sparkle. The publishing world back then was its own little oasis of mysteries!

Drop a comment with your thoughts.

Monday Side-Session: Caravan Across the Century

Yesterday, we heard several versions of Juan Tizol’s classic Caravan as played by various Duke Ellington groups. For today’s side‑session, we’ll wander a little farther into the dunes and check out how other bands and artists have handled this ever‑mysterious tune.

“Caravan” might be the most recorded number in the entire Ellington band book, and from the very beginning it inspired wildly different interpretations. We’ll do a little decade‑hopping and hit some highlights.

1937: The First Wave of Covers

We start with Bunny Berigan on Victor, recorded just a couple of months after Duke’s own version:

A sharp arrangement by pianist Joe Lippman, and Bunny’s growl trumpet is absolutely convincing. He could do anything he wanted with that horn!

Next up, pianist Edgar Hayes and his band for Decca, also in 1937:

I think I say all the time that Edgar Hayes had an underrated band. I stand by that statement!

And the tune even crossed the Atlantic that same year, where Ambrose recorded it for British Decca:

Three takes from 1937, each bringing its own flavor to the journey.

1946–1949: New Rhythms, New Ideas

This caravan moves fast, so let’s hop off in 1946 to catch Charlie Barnet on the Apollo label:

Charlie could never resist an Ellington‑related number.

Then in 1948, pioneer electric guitarist Les Paul gives the tune a then‑modern facelift on this multitrack gem for Capitol:

Possibly the first guitar‑centric Caravan — but far from the last.

Next, tenor sax star Flip Phillips teams up with Latin legend Machito for this 1949 Mercury side:

I’m sure Juan Tizol approved!

1952–1953: A Curious Case of Influence

We enter the 1950s with a fascinating take by The Esquire Boys for the small Rainbow label in 1952:

A very cool reworking featuring guitarist Danny Cedrone, who would soon play the iconic solo on Bill Haley’s Rock Around the Clock.

Then comes the intrigue: Ralph Marterie’s hit version for Mercury in 1953.

Ralph’s record is clearly based on the Esquire Boys’ arrangement from the year before. Was it authorized? Hmmm…

Late ’50s: Stereo, Steel and Swing

Next stop: New Orleans, 1958, where Al Hirt includes an extended version on his Swingin’ Dixie! album for Audio Fidelity:

Lots of fun in early stereo!

The guitars return with Santo & Johnny, whose steel‑guitar take was recorded in 1959 and released as a single in 1960 on the Canadian-American label:

I’m a big fan of Santo & Johnny — Sleepwalk is one of my all‑time favorites.

1960s: Big Signatures from Big Names

I’m also a big fan of Pérez Prado, who cut this version for RCA Victor in 1964:

Sounds great!

Then in 1967, Bert Kaempfert records his own unmistakable take, released in the U.S. on Decca:

You could do a blindfold test and spot both Prado and Kaempfert instantly!

1976: Disco in the Dunes

A quick stop in 1976 for — of all things — a disco version of “Caravan” by Rhythm Heritage on ABC:

I was a young big‑band fan in 1976 and don’t remember hearing this one. I’m sure I would’ve been horrified, but now it’s a fun artifact of the era.

2000: A Rockabilly Blast

We end our trek as a new century dawns with Brian Setzer’s roaring take with his orchestra from the 2000 album Vavoom!:

A long ride — but worth every mile! But how do we get the sand out of all those guitar amps?

Sundays with Duke #22: La Caravana de Juan

In 1937, Duke Ellington and his orchestra gave us a classic: Caravan, composed by Duke’s gifted valve trombonist Juan Tizol. Let’s start with Duke’s popular recording from May 1937 on Master Records:

That’s the one most folks know — Juan’s steady tone leading the way, exotic and hypnotic.

But here’s the twist: Duke had already recorded Caravan months earlier, in late 1936, as part of a small Ellington unit fronted by clarinetist Barney Bigard. That version was released on Irving Mills’ Variety label under the name Barney Bigard and His Jazzopaters:

It’s a fascinating contrast. Just Juan on trombone, Barney on clarinet, Cootie Williams on trumpet, Harry Carney on baritone sax, and a rhythm section of Duke, Billy Taylor (bass), and Sonny Greer (drums). No full band needed — the mood is all there.

Incidentally, both Master and Variety were Irving Mills creations. The man didn’t miss a trick.

Caravan Keeps Rolling

Duke performed Caravan often — on radio, in concert, and in revised studio versions. One notable re-recording came in 1945 for Victor:

By then, Juan Tizol had left the band, and Duke’s name had started appearing as co-composer. Irving Mills still got credit too, ostensibly for lyrics Duke rarely used.

Jump to 1951 and we find a curious version on Mercer Records credited to The Coronets:

Who were The Coronets? Listen closely - Juan’s valve trombone is unmistakable, so you don't even need to read the label to know it's him. Willie Smith, Duke's alto sax player at the time, is also credited, and Duke's right-hand man Billy Strayhorn is listed as director. Throw in that Mercer was Duke’s son’s name, and you don't have to be Sgt. Friday to know this is clearly an Ellington unit in disguise. Shades of The Whoopee Makers!

A treat from around this time is a video of Juan with the band:

Also cool to see and hear Ray Nance on violin!

LP Era with a Vocal Turn

Duke recorded a new version for Capitol in 1954, included on Dance to the Duke:

It’s a cool, expanded take - LP format in full swing - but again, no Juan Tizol, who was between stints with the band.

Then in 1957, we get what may be the only Duke-led version with lyrics, sung by none other than Ella Fitzgerald:

If you’re only going to have one vocal version, Ella’s the one to have. It's from the essential Verve album Ella Fitzgerald Sings the Duke Ellington Song Book.

Hidden Tracks and Bonus Rides

We wrap with two versions recorded in the 1960s but released much later - because what’s a Duke journey without a little unreleased intrigue?

First, a 1962 recording featuring tenor sax star Paul Gonsalves, released in 1984 on Fantasy:

Then, a 1966 version recorded during sessions for The Popular Duke Ellington (RCA Victor), left off the original release but later added as a CD bonus track:

A Ride Through the Decades

From small-unit mystery to full-band majesty, from label sleight-of-hand to LP expansion, Caravan rolled on — always with Juan’s signature sound at its heart. Whether front and center or tucked behind a pseudonym, his trombone steered the journey.

Threaded Thursday: More Nobility

Following yesterday’s deep dive into Harlem Nocturne — the Earl Hagen tune introduced by Ray Noble and his Orchestra before becoming a jazz standard — we pick up the thread with another Noble‑born classic destined to become a standard: Cherokee.

We’re doing another deep dive, but for the first few selections we’re going in reverse chronological order so we can start with the definitive version.

Barnet and Billy's Blast

And that, of course, is the classic 1939 Bluebird recording by Charlie Barnet:

That smash recording — with Billy May’s terrific arrangement and Charlie’s romping tenor — is one I’ve known forever. It showed up on just about every big‑band compilation I snapped up back in the day, and for good reason. A certified classic!

The Noblest Take (1938)

I’d always known that Ray Noble wrote Cherokee as part of his Indian Suite, but it took a while before I finally heard Ray’s own version.

Here’s his 1938 Brunswick recording:

A really lovely record — refined, elegant, almost like the older brother to Barnet’s rowdy little sibling.

Spud Sneaks In (1938)

For years I assumed Ray’s version was the first. But much later I learned that Spud Murphy actually beat him to the punch, recording Cherokee in April 1938, months before Ray’s October date. No idea why, but there it is!

Here’s Spud’s Decca side:

And yes — thank you, Internet — this was also when I learned that Spud Murphy had a band in the late ’30s. I’d only known him as an ace arranger for Benny Goodman and others.

Once Barnet’s record hit big, other bands jumped in.

The Count Doubles Down (1939)

Count Basie recorded a two‑sided Decca version later in 1939:

Another completely different take — relaxed, swinging, and very Basie.

Jimmy's Jam (1940)

And because Decca never minded issuing multiple versions of the same tune, Jimmy Dorsey got his crack at it in 1940:

Very nice — and unmistakably JD. The man could play!

Bird Breaks the Barrier (1942)

The tune’s adaptability helped make “Cherokee” a favorite among jazz musicians. The chord structure is famously tricky but incredibly rewarding for improvisers.

Charlie Parker loved it and used it as the basis for his early bebop experiments. Here’s a non‑commercial “Bird” workout from 1942:

You can hear how the world wasn’t quite ready for that in ’42 — it still astounds.

The story goes that Parker planned to record “Cherokee” for Savoy in 1945, but the label didn’t want to pay royalties (sorry, Ray). So Bird took the chords and created Ko Ko.

Let’s spin it since we're spinning:

Take a close look at the label for the eye‑popping personnel in the Ri Bop Boys.

Singing the Unsung (1942)

Back to Cherokee itself: Ray Noble also wrote lyrics, but the tune is overwhelmingly performed as an instrumental. There was one early vocal version, though — on Bluebird in 1942 by The Deep River Boys:

Very interesting — and very different.

A Sassy Switch (1956)

I don’t think another vocal version appeared until Sarah Vaughan included it — with a gender twist — on her 1956 Mercury album Sarah Vaughan in the Land of Hi‑Fi:

That really swings — and how fantastic is Cannonball Adderley on alto?

Taking "Ames" at the Classic

Let’s close with another vocal version that brings us full circle: The Ames Brothers, from their 1960 RCA Victor album The Ames Brothers Sing the Best of the Bands, with a Sid Ramin arrangement inspired by Charlie Barnet and Billy May:

An awesome finale to our twenty‑year stroll with the sweet maiden. Hope you enjoyed it!