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.

Word Association Wednesday: Another Place

We spin off Duke Ellington’s If You Were in My Place and land squarely in the orbit of the 1941/42 hit Somebody Else Is Taking My Place.

Morgan’s Melancholy Manner

The song was co‑written by bandleader Russ Morgan, and he was the first to record it. Let’s drop the needle on his late‑1941 Decca side:

That’s classic “Music in the Morgan Manner” — the melancholy, sighing trombone, Russ easing into the vocal and The Morganaires wrapping it all in that soft‑focus harmony.

Peggy Perks It Up

But the definitive version arrived almost immediately afterward, when Benny Goodman cut it for Okeh with his brand‑new vocalist Peggy Lee:

The lyrics don’t brighten up any under Peggy’s delivery, but the record sure does. It’s crisp, swinging, and no mystery why it became the hit.

Label intrigue: Benny wasn’t being “demoted” to Columbia’s cheaper Okeh subsidiary. Glenn Miller was selling literal millions on Victor’s budget Bluebird line, so Columbia simply tried the same trick with BG.

Thornhill’s Tongue‑in‑Cheek Take

As 1942 dawned, more bands jumped aboard. Perhaps the wackiest cover of the moment was Claude Thornhill’s Columbia version:

It plays like a gentle send‑up — Claude’s honky‑tonk piano, the wink‑and‑a‑grin vocal by “A Pair of Pairs,” a playful rebranding of The Snowflakes.

Bunny Still Burns Bright

Next comes Bunny Berigan with vocalist Kay Little on the Elite label:

A late Berigan side, recorded just months before his untimely passing. Bunny’s trumpet still gleams, but Kay leans a little hard into the Helen O’Connell style that was popular at the time.

Monroe’s Moments

Vaughn Monroe was still the new kid on the block in 1942 when he recorded his Bluebird version:

Just to keep things interesting, let’s jump ahead to 1958 for Vaughn's RCA Victor remake:

Nothing about this should work — and yet I absolutely dig it!

A Modern Mose‑ment

And while we’re in 1958, let’s close with a snappy instrumental take by pianist Mose Allison from his Prestige album Young Man Mose:

Sounds good!

Turns out Russ Morgan was right all along: everybody was taking his place!

Warehouse Whispers

Apparently Somebody Else Is Taking My Place was composed in 1937 but not recorded until 1941, despite Russ Morgan having a recording contract all along. Hmm...

Monday Side-Session: A Date with Johnny

Since we heard a couple of sides yesterday featuring Johnny Hodges leading a small group of Ellingtonians, I thought it’d be fun to make today’s Monday Side‑Session a literal session — the four titles recorded at a Johnny Hodges date.

This particular outing took place on May 14, 1937, in New York City. In addition to Johnny on alto, the lineup is a dreamlike slice of the Ellington reed world: Barney Bigard (clarinet and tenor), Otto Hardwick (alto), and Harry Carney (baritone). Cootie Williams and his trumpet are all alone in the brass section and the rhythm section is pure Ellington: Duke at the piano, Fred Guy on guitar, Hayes Alvis on bass, and Sonny Greer on drums.

There’s also a surprise guest — a young Buddy Clark, not yet a star and not even credited on the label. No idea how he wandered into this date, but he fits like he was born in the bandroom.

The group recorded four songs (with multiple takes), and Buddy sings on the first three.

Let’s start spinning...

Foolin’ Myself

A lovely, slow, unhurried groove — the kind of tempo where Hodges can stretch out and the reeds breathe in unison.

A Sailboat in the Moonlight

This really shouldn’t work — a Guy Lombardo hit reframed by Ellingtonians — but it’s awesome! No surprise it became the most popular side from the session.

You’ll Never Go to Heaven (If You Break My Heart)

A neat structural twist here: Buddy starts right away, vocalizing over the introduction, and then disappears entirely after the vocal chorus. Most 1937 band records don’t front‑load the vocal like that, so this one stands out.

Peckin’

Buddy sits out, but we get a vocal from Cootie Williams and the band. The feel is a little odd — almost like the floor tilts under the beat — and the track wasn’t issued until the late 1960s. Strange, but intriguing.

We had heard Ozzie Nelson's version of Peckin' back here and I stand by my statement that the Ben Pollack/Harry James tune works better as an instrumental!

Release Shuffle

Foolin’ Myself and You’ll Never Go to Heaven were paired on a 78, which left A Sailboat in the Moonlight without a partner since Peckin’ stayed in the vault.

So what wound up on the flipside of Sailboat?

Manhattan Jam by Edgar Hayes

A solid, swinging companion.

Bonus Spin: Lombardo’s Original Hit

To round things out, here’s Guy Lombardo’s Victor recording of “A Sailboat in the Moonlight,” with brother Carmen Lombardo — the song’s co‑writer — on the vocal.

Always fun to hear how differently a tune can live depending on who’s steering the boat!

Warehouse Whispers

Irving Mills kept his release options wide open, so these sides appeared on both Variety and Vocalion. And it’s interesting that Johnny’s discs were issued as Johnny Hodges and His Orchestra, in contrast to the more colorful branding of his colleagues: Cootie Williams and His Rug Cutters, Barney Bigard and His Jazzopaters, Rex Stewart and His 52nd Street Stompers. Mills loved a good sub‑label ecosystem — and a wacky band name even more!