Threaded Thursday: Pee Wee’s Pile of Hits

Picking up the thread from yesterday’s You Belong to Me, let’s spin a few more gems from the songwriting partnership of Pee Wee King and Redd Stewart — a duo who, almost accidentally, helped shape the sound of postwar American pop.

Waltz Whirls, Wanders & Wallops the World

We start in December 1947, when Pee Wee and his Golden West Cowboys cut Tennessee Waltz for RCA Victor, with Redd Stewart handling the vocal:

Released in early 1948, it became a solid country hit.

But here’s the twist: although Pee Wee’s version was the first released, it wasn’t the first recorded. That honor goes to Cowboy Copas, who laid down his King-label version earlier in 1947:

Both versions found an audience — but the song’s real explosion came a few years later.

Things take a fascinating turn in October 1950, when bandleader Erskine Hawkins recorded a version for Coral with vocalist Ace Harris:

It's surprisingly faithful to the waltz feel of the original. Quite lovely!

That was the record that apparently caught the ear of Jack Rael, manager of Patti Page, who recorded her version for Mercury in November 1950:

And then — boom!

Patti’s Tennessee Waltz, released as the B‑side to Boogie Woogie Santa Claus, became one of the biggest hits of all time. Once it took off, the covers came pouring in, and the song instantly entered the Great American Songbook.

My favorite remake? Sam Cooke’s 1964 RCA version:

A masterpiece — tender, soulful, and unmistakably Sam. This track, coupled with Good Times, was the last single release by Sam before his untimely death.

And here’s a fun brain‑itch: The song is called Tennessee Waltz, but it’s about a song called Tennessee Waltz. So… is the song they’re playing in the song the same song the singer is singing?

A little meta moment in Music City!

Retreat Rumbles, Rambles & Reigns Supreme

Next up is Bonaparte’s Retreat, credited solely to Pee Wee King. Pee Wee and Redd recorded it in October 1949, though oddly Redd didn’t get label credit:

Released in 1950, it became another country hit.

But once again, the definitive pop breakthrough came from a powerhouse female vocalist — this time Kay Starr on Capitol:

Kay’s version crossed over in a big way!

A particularly intriguing take came from drummer/bandleader Gene Krupa, with vocalist Bobby Soots, on RCA Victor:

It’s got that unmistakable "Chicago Jazz" snap, but Bobby’s vocal leans country. And I love that he sings the jazz band played “Bonaparte’s Retreat” — not fiddles!

This one is meta too, but in a different way: there is an old fiddle tune called “Bonaparte’s Retreat,” so inside the song, the fiddles are playing the "real" melody!

Poke Pops, Percolates & Powers Up the Pop Parade

Now we arrive at the big one — the song Pee Wee didn’t have to surrender to a female pop star: 1951’s Slow Poke.

Let’s spin Pee Wee and Redd’s RCA Victor original:

I adore everything about this record — the tick‑tock beat, the sly vocal, the whole Western Swing vibe. I love it so much that I’m not especially fond of the many cover versions that followed.

But I do have a soft spot for the parody by my boys Homer & Jethro, also on RCA Victor:

That Shep Fields‑style bubbling intro… there has to be a reason for it beyond “funny sound effect,” but I haven’t cracked the code yet.

Pee Wee and Redd weren’t done with Slow Poke themselves, though. They recorded a slightly revised version for the U.K. as Slow Coach on HMV:

“Slow coach” is a real British expression, and the title change avoided a possible double entendre.

And then there’s Slow Bloke, ostensibly recorded for Australia, but not released at the time:

Very intriguing! Both alternate versions have a subtly different feel, and Redd even tweaks the lyric — singing “Why can’t you hasten when you know that time’s a‑wastin’?” instead of “when you see that time’s a‑wastin’?” Hmmm...

Let’s slip in one more variation: Slow Poke Cha Cha, released by Pee Wee on the Todd label in 1959:

Sam Cooke was right — everybody likes to cha‑cha‑cha!

Convention Capers, Cut‑Ups & Cornball Comedy

To bring it all full circle, here’s Homer & Jethro again, with a quick take‑off on “Tennessee Waltz” from their 1962 album Homer and Jethro at the Convention:

A perfect little button.

Warehouse Whispers

Just like “You Belong to Me,” “Slow Poke” began with songwriter Chilton Price, whose original compositions were adapted by Pee Wee and Redd in exchange for co‑writer credit and publication. Chilton did the heavy lifting, but by all accounts she was satisfied with the arrangement — and with hits this big, the royalty checks must have been very friendly!

And as a bonus, here’s a video clip of Pee Wee and Redd performing Tennessee Waltz and You Belong to Me:

Not sure of the date, but hearing Redd sing You Belong to Me — a song they didn’t record during the original hit period — is a real treat.

OK, now I’m done!

Word Association Wednesday: A Sense of Belonging

For today’s Association Wednesday spinning off from Sunday’s Pyramid, my mind went very quickly to “See the pyramids along the Nile…” — the unforgettable opening line of the great 1952 hit You Belong to Me.

The song was a collaboration by Western Swing bandleader Pee Wee King, his star vocalist Redd Stewart and Chilton Price, though interestingly, Pee Wee and Redd didn't record it at the time themselves, despite issuing several successful records in the same period.

Stafford’s Silky Smash

The big hit version — the one that truly stamped the song into the culture — was recorded by Jo Stafford for Columbia in 1952:

It became the biggest hit of Jo’s highly successful career, and it’s easy to hear why. It’s one of those rare records where everything aligns: the right vocalist, the right arrangement, the right moment. From Jo’s opening vocalizing over the marimba, you know you’re in for something special.

Joni’s Gentle Jump‑Start

But Jo wasn’t the first to record it. That honor goes to a pre‑stardom Joni James, who cut the song for the small Sharp label earlier in 1952:

It’s a lovely record, but Sharp didn’t have much national distribution, so this one couldn't compete with Jo Stafford's version. Not long after, Joni moved to the larger MGM label (who reissued her recording of You Belong to Me) and began her own long run of hits.

Cover Craze Carousel

As with so many early‑’50s pop songs, a zillion competing covers followed. Here are a few of the most interesting...

Martin’s Majestic Makeover

RCA Victor — home base for Pee Wee King — assigned the tune to Freddy Martin, featuring vocalist Stuart Wade:

A beautifully polished late‑period big band performance, with Freddy showing that a veteran bandleader could keep up with the newer bands.

Grady’s Go‑Round

Decca joined the fray with a version by another Martin — ace guitarist Grady Martin and his Slew Foot Five, featuring vocalist Cecil Bailey:

The bouncy sax from Dutch McMillin and Cecil’s jaunty vocal give this one a Western Swing flavor — maybe something close to how the song might’ve sounded if Pee Wee King had recorded it himself in 1952.

Tab’s Tender‑Tone Take

For an R&B‑leaning spin, there’s this terrific version by alto sax star Tab Smith on the United label:

And how can you not love that the label proudly advertises Tab’s “fabulous alto”? They 're not wrong!

Homer & Jethro’s Hijinks

As usual, the final word on the 1952 versions comes courtesy of Homer & Jethro, with their RCA Victor parody “You Belong to Me No. 2”:

It’s not just the clever lyrics — the picking is genuinely brilliant!

Santo & Johnny's Sleepy Serenade

Let's jump ahead to 1960 for a dreamy instrumental version by a much less wacky duo —Santo & Johnny on the Canadian-American label:

They're in full Sleepwalk mode there. I love it!

Duprees’ Dreamy Doo‑Wop

Now we're in 1962, a full decade after Jo Stafford, for what is probably the second‑best‑remembered version: the 1962 hit by The Duprees on Co‑Ed:

The big band arrangement gives it a nostalgic glow that must have felt retro even in 1962.

I used to hear The Duprees’ version constantly on “oldies” shows and stations in the early 1980s. It’s a little mind‑bending to realize that forty years ago, I was listening to an “oldie” that was only twenty years old.

Pee Wee & Redd’s Retro Return

Pee Wee King and Redd Stewart did eventually record You Belong to Me, as featured on their 1964 album Back Again for Starday:

Nice record and Redd sounds great, but it definitely plays like 1964 and not 1952!

But that’s the magic of this song — after all these years, it still belongs to all of us.

Monday Side-Session: Artie’s Pyramid Period

Yesterday, one of the versions of Pyramid we heard was Artie Shaw’s 1940 recording. Since Artie was making some remarkable records for Victor during that same timeframe, today’s Side‑Session pulls together a half‑dozen of those sides — the musical neighborhood that Pyramid lived in.

Frenesi (March 1940)

Artie discovered this tune while vacationing in Mexico between bands and brought it back north like a prized souvenir. He had the esteemed composer William Grant Still craft an arrangement for his studio orchestra — complete with strings — and the result was a massive 1940 hit. It’s easy to hear why listeners flipped for it!

William Grant Still

My Fantasy (March 1940)

Cut at the same session, this one feels like a hidden gem. Vocalist Pauline Byrne floats over a melody borrowed from Alexander Borodin, later famous as A Stranger in Paradise. I’ll take Artie’s version any day.

Pauline Byrne

Pauline is another underrated canary!

Summit Ridge Drive (September 1940)

After those recordings with session musicians, Artie formed a new band and spun off a small group, the Gramercy 5. Their hit “Summit Ridge Drive” features pianist Johnny Guarnieri on harpsichord — an old instrument giving the group a surprisingly modern snap.

Johnny Guarnieri

Fun trivia: Gramercy 5 was Artie’s telephone exchange, and Summit Ridge Drive was the street he lived on!

Star Dust (October 1940)

One of Artie’s towering achievements. Billy Butterfield cold opens with a breathtaking trumpet solo and includes a luminous trombone improvisation by Jack Jenney. Add Artie’s clarinet with Lennie Hayton’s masterful arrangement tying it all together and you’ve got a recording that earns every bit of its legendary status!

Billy Butterfield

But is it Star Dust or Stardust? Paging Hoagy Carmichael!

(And for timeline fans: Artie’s version of Pyramid was recorded two months later, in December 1940.)

Moonglow (January 1941)

A beautifully shaded reading of the standard with another outstanding trombone solo from Jack Jenney.

Jack Jenney

And another one of those eternal questions: is it Moonglow or Moon Glow? Shaw’s band makes either spelling sound good.

Dancing in the Dark (January 1941)

From the same session as Moonglow, this is another elegant, late‑night Shaw interpretation of a classic.

Six wonderful sides from Artie Shaw and His Orchestra — all orbiting the same creative period that produced his take on Pyramid. A rich little constellation!

Sundays with Duke #25: Six Steps to the Pyramid

As we hang around 1938 with Duke Ellington, we come across another collaboration between Duke and his valve trombonist Juan Tizol - Pyramid.

It never became nearly as popular as Juan’s earlier composition Caravan, but it’s a moody, atmospheric piece, and the recordings it inspired make for a wonderfully twisty little journey.

Step 1: Tom-Toms and Hand Drums

Duke and the band first recorded “Pyramid” for Brunswick in June 1938:

The haunting pulse comes from Sonny Greer on tom‑toms and Duke playing a hand drum fashioned from a tambourine. There’s no piano from Duke on this one, and the instrumentation is unusual in another way: Harry Carney’s baritone sax is the only saxophone on the record!

It’s a sparse, hypnotic sound world, with Juan's valve trombone leading the way.

Step 2: Johnny's Small‑Group Detour

Just a couple of weeks later, at a Johnny Hodges small‑band session for Vocalion - the same date that produced Lost in Meditation - Pyramid took on a completely different character, with Duke back at the piano and Lawrence Brown on trombone rather than Juan Tizol:

Comparing the small‑unit versions with the “official” band takes is always a treat, and this one is no exception.

A Brief Pause for Label Intrigue

As usual, the songwriting credits give us something to chew on...

The Brunswick label lists Irving Mills as co‑writer with Duke and Juan - no surprise there.

But the Vocalion label lists Irving Gordon instead of Mills. Not sure what the story is, but the implication is that the tune has lyrics. If a vocal version was ever recorded, I haven’t come across it.

Step 3: Artie Shaw Picks It Up

Pyramid didn’t seem to get much traction at the time, but it resurfaced in late 1940 when Artie Shaw recorded it for Victor:

Nick Fatool - maybe the most underrated drummer of the era - drives the beat, with strong solos from Artie on clarinet and Billy Butterfield on trumpet. The larger Shaw band with strings gives it a bit of a Frenesi-era vibe to me.

What’s unusual is that this might be the only Ellington‑associated number Artie recorded back in the day. He tended to favor swing arrangements of show tunes and standards rather than jazz pieces by other composers. He did have an arrangement of Pyramid with his earlier band, but never made a studio recording of it.

The little sting to end this record reminds me of the sound of Artie’s Gramercy Five.

The Gramercy Six

Which brings us to the next version - a snappy stereo take by what seems to be an unofficial Artie Shaw spin‑off/tribute group, The Gramercy Six, recorded for Edison International in 1959:

Nick Fatool returns on drums, joined by bassist Jud Denaut and guitarist Al Hendrickson, both veterans of Shaw’s 1940 version, which is pretty cool! Rounding out the sextet are Shorty Sherock on trumpet, Al Sherman on harpsichord, and Eddie Rosa on clarinet.

It’s a lively, modernized spin.

Duke Returns to the Pyramid

Duke himself revisited “Pyramid” in 1962 for his Reprise album Afro‑Bossa:

That's a terrific version and it seems to have rekindled Duke’s interest in he tune, as he began performing it more frequently in concerts afterward.

Johnny Steps into the ’60s

Johnny Hodges picked the tune up again in the 1960s, teaming with with organist Wild Bill Davis for this version on the 1966 Verve album Blue Pyramid:

That one definitely sounds like 1966 - in the best way!

From tom‑toms to harpsichords, the six steps through the life of Pyramid each brings something distinctive to the table.

Do you have a favorite - or does it depend on the mood of the day?

Juneteenth Jamboree!

                                 Happy Juneteenth!

To help the celebration, let's listen to our two favorite Juneteenth songs!

First up is Louis Jordan and his Tympany Five on Decca from 1940:

And here's Gladys "Fatso" Bently on Swing Time from 1953:

I just love that there are two great vintage Juneteenth songs!

Enjoy the day!

Threaded Thursday: Getting Lost

We pick up the word‑association thread and wander from Duke Ellington’s Lost in Meditation to the 1942/43 Frank Loesser–Jimmy McHugh charmer Let’s Get Lost.

The tune debuted on screen in Happy Go Lucky (Paramount, 1943), introduced by Mary Martin. Mary didn’t cut a commercial record, but a few bands managed to sneak versions onto wax just in time before the recording ban hit in 1942 for release in 1943:

Vaughn Leads the Way

Vaughn Monroe was first out of the gate, and his Victor release became the big 1943 hit:

A relaxed, conversational reading from Vaughn and the Four Lee Sisters — easygoing and elegant.

Kyser Keeps It Cozy

Kay Kyser followed with a popular version on Columbia, with Harry Babbitt joined by Julie Conway, Trudy Erwin, Jack Martin, and Max Williams:

The Kyser band was making some truly lovely sides in the early ’40s, leaving the ’30s novelty gimmicks behind.

Teddy & Peggy's Underrated Gem

The underrated Teddy Powell band turned in a Bluebird version featuring a lovely vocal by the equally underrated canary Peggy Mann:

This was the first version I ever heard — and it still might be my favorite!

Hallett Hits It

Another canary, Kay Marie Baird, is featured with Mal Hallett's orchestra on the Hit label:

The records from the Hit label can be "hit" or miss, but the ones featuring an actual name bandleader, such as Mr. Hallett,  tend to be pretty good. I think Kay Marie is also good, but all I really know about her is that she was the sister of the much more prominent Eugenie Baird.

Jimmy & Bob Step Up

Jimmy Dorsey’s Decca take features Bob Eberly in prime form:

When you hear Bob on a side like this, it’s easy to understand why young Frank Sinatra kept an eye on the competition.

Frankie on the Airwaves

By the time “Let’s Get Lost” hit big in 1943, Frank had left Tommy Dorsey and didn’t get a commercial recording — but he did sing it on Your Hit Parade:

The song fits early‑’40s Sinatra like a glove.

No wonder Olive Oyl swooned when Frankie sang it in the 1945 Paramount Cartoon Shape Ahoy!

Dinah Drops By

Staying in radio land, here’s Dinah Shore from the Eddie Cantor show:

Pure Dinah — warm, clear, and effortless. You can understand why she was on her way to major stardom.

Shep & Meredith's Encore

We had recently heard an aircheck of Meredith Blake singing Let's Get Lost with Shep Fields' all-reed band. Let's hear it again:

Still sounds great!

Adelaide Across the Atlantic

We do have one more 1943 studio version: Adelaide Hall on British Decca:

Another lovely, poised reading.

Chet Chimes In

After 1943, the tune went quiet for a while — one of those songs that had its moment and then drifted into the fog. But in 1955, Chet Baker brought it back on Prestige:

To be honest, I’ve never been fully sold on Chet’s vocal style, but he undeniably helped turn the tune into a modern standard. I'd say he's the artist most associated with the song.

Johnny's Jaunty Detour

And because I always like to slip in a snappy instrumental, here’s pianist Johnny Coates, Jr. from his 1960 Savoy album Portrait:

Snappy indeed — a bright little spotlight on the tune’s bones.

With guides like these, Let’s Get Lost never really got lost at all.