Word Association Wednesday: The Prelude Gets Blue

Following Sunday’s “Prelude to a Kiss,” today’s WAW took the shortest possible ride on the mental express line — straight to Blue Prelude, the moody 1933 masterpiece by Gordon Jenkins and Joe Bishop.

We’ve got fifteen versions spanning nearly two decades, so let’s get spinning...

The First Blue Notes (1933)

The earliest recording turns out to be Glen Gray and the Casa Loma Orchestra, who cut an instrumental take for Brunswick in January 1933:

(Raises hand) I’ll admit — before digging into this, I didn’t realize Casa Loma got there first. I always assumed the debut belonged to Isham Jones, since both Bishop and Jenkins were working with his band at the time. But apparently Bishop brought the tune to Glen Gray before anyone else.

Still, Isham Jones wasn’t far behind. His version — arranged by Bishop — followed in April 1933 for Victor:

It’s a terrific chart, with Sonny Lee shining on trombone and a wonderfully present tuba from Richard Kissinger in the rhythm section. Within a year or two, most bands would swap the tuba for string bass, but here it adds a great period flavor.

At this point the tune seems to have existed only as an instrumental. But by May 1933, Jenkins had added lyrics — and if the melody was already moody, the words sealed the deal.

The first vocal version came from prolific studio singer Chick Bullock, backed by his Levee Loungers on a budget‑label release:

Chick was a terrific singer, but an eye condition limited him to studio work.

Next up was Adrian Rollini with his studio group, featuring Howard Phillips on the vocal:

I love Adrian's switching between vibes and bass sax, though Phillips’ vocal is a bit emphatic. Not so for the next singer…

On June 13, the say after Adrian's record date, Bing Crosby recorded his version for Brunswick:

This is the one that put the song on the map — Bing’s career was exploding, and Blue Prelude rode the wave.

For one more 1933 entry, we get a female vocalist: Loretta Lee, singing with George Hall’s orchestra on Bluebird.

And yes — those early‑’30s buff Bluebirds are irresistible.

A Theme Is Born (1940-1941)

We jump to 1940 for the best‑known incarnation of Blue Prelude: as Woody Herman’s theme song. Here's his Decca recording, with Woody himself on the vocal:

Between Isham Jones’ 1933 version and this one, Woody had joined the Jones band, Jones retired, and the musicians reorganized with Woody as leader. Blue Prelude became his theme, and composer Joe Bishop was still on hand, arranging and playing flugelhorn.

The song was now a standard, and the recordings kept coming.

Also from 1940: Bob Wills and His Texas Playboys, with Joe Ferguson on the vocal:

You know I’m all over a vintage Western Swing take on a standard!

From 1941, we get Jimmie Lunceford with Dan Grissom on Decca:

A jaunty treatment, with typically superb work from altoist Willie Smith.

Postwar Shades of Blue (1945–1949)

In 1945, former Basie vocalist Helen Humes recorded a lovely version for the small Philo label:

That bowed‑bass intro from Alfred Moore is a knockout!

Label intrigue: Philco thought “Philo” sounded too close to their name, so the label became Aladdin!

Next, the sultry Lena Horne stepped up on the Black & White label in 1947:

Beautifully supported by Phil Moore.

Also in 1947, Woody Herman revisited the tune for his Columbia album 8 Shades of Blue:

A lot had happened in seven years — a new theme (Blue Flame), a move from Decca to Columbia, the triumph of the First Herd, and then disbanding. Note the label credit: Woody Herman with Orchestral Acc. — this was a studio group, not his working band.

The 1950 Curtain Call

We close with three versions from 1950...

First up: The Ames Brothers on Coral:

More label intrigue: This cut was issued as the flipside of second pressings of the Ames’ hit Sentimental Me, which was the original flipside of their smash Rag Mop. But when Sentimental Me also became a hit, Coral swapped it out so they wouldn’t have to sell two blockbusters on one disc!

Next, an unissued‑at‑the‑time Decca recording by the great Mildred Bailey:

Knowing this was among her final recordings before her early death in 1951 gives it heartbreaking poignancy.

And finally, we come full circle: Gordon Jenkins himself recorded Blue Prelude for his Decca album Playing His Own Compositions, with Bonnie Lou Williams singing his lyrics:

Mr. Jenkins really was a remarkable talent!

Fifteen preludes to a whole lot of blues — and if the prelude is this sad, imagine what the actual blues sound like!

Tuesday Tidbit: June Joins In

While I was distilling yesterday’s playlist of versions of Duke Ellington’s Prelude to a Kiss, I wound up with four extra takes I desperately wanted to include — but they all came from the same singer — June Christy. And when June records the same Ellington tune four different times across nearly twenty years, that’s not an overflow… that’s a feature!

So today, the last day of the month of June, The Misty Miss Christy gets the spotlight. Let’s drop the needle on all four...

1. The Kentones Keep Up (1945/46)

June’s first encounter with “Prelude to a Kiss” came shortly after she joined Stan Kenton’s band, when she recorded it for the Capitol Transcription Service:

The backing group — mostly Kenton sidemen — was charmingly billed as The Kentones, which feels like exactly the sort of name a Capitol staffer would scribble on a session card at 4:55 PM on a Friday.

These transcriptions were for radio use and not commercially available at the time.

2. A Friendly Gem (1949)

With Kenton temporarily disbanded, June cut another version with pianist Johnny Guarnieri:

The circumstances are a little murky, and the recording didn’t see daylight until the 1990s, but it’s a lovely, intimate reading — almost like stumbling across a forgotten acetate in a studio closet.

3. The Lost Duet Track (1955)

During the sessions for the Capitol album Duet, June and Stan reunited for a studio take of Prelude to a Kiss:

It didn’t make the original LP — who knows why — but it resurfaced as a bonus track on the early‑1990s CD reissue. Those first-wave CD years were a treasure hunt, with “lost” recordings suddenly stepping into the light.

4. Rugolo Brings the Brass (1963)

Finally, we land in 1963 with the version that did get released at the time, from June’s Capitol album Big Band Specials:

Arranged and conducted by fellow Kenton alum Pete Rugolo, it’s a bright, confident, big-band take that lets June glide right over the top.

June clearly had a soft spot for Prelude to a Kiss, and we in the Warehouse are grateful she shared it with us not once, not twice, but four times across nearly two decades. A little constellation of Christy moments orbiting one Ellington classic.

Monday Side-Session: A Passel of Preludes

For today’s side‑session, we’re spinning a dozen memorable versions of Duke Ellington’s Prelude to a Kiss.

There have been zillions of recordings over the years, but I’ve distilled a playlist of twelve that carry particular historical or musical interest — to me anyway!

Himber Hits It First

Although Duke’s and Johnny Hodges’ 1938 recordings were popular, there seems to have been only one contemporary cover: Richard Himber and his Rhythmic Pyramids Orchestra, with vocalist Stuart Allen, on Victor in 1938:

The tune adapts well to a more “dance band” style, but oddly enough, no other bands or labels picked it up at the time.

A Novachord Nicety

The next version is more of a novelty. Ted Steele and his Novatones recorded it using the early Novachord synthesizer for the 1940 Decca album Mood Indigo, which featured Ted’s interpretations of Ellington songs:

Very intriguing! Kind of ethereal, if you will. And an early "concept" album!

Brown's Brief Blast

After that, “Prelude to a Kiss” went dormant for a few years — but by the mid‑1940s, sparks began to fly again. Les Brown recorded a V‑Disc version in 1944:

It’s a nice reading, but since it wasn’t commercially issued, it didn’t make much of a dent.

Carter’s Capitol Caress

The next commercial release seems to be Benny Carter’s 1947 Capitol recording:

A gorgeous showcase for Benny’s alto.

Getz Goes Nordic

By the early 1950s, the floodgates opened. Here’s a 1951 Swedish side by American tenor star Stan Getz:

Very cool!

Teddi Takes the Torch

We finally get another vocal version in 1953, when Teddi King included it on her Storyville album ’Round Midnight:

The simple piano accompaniment by Beryl Booker lets the lyrics shine.

Sassy Sarah Swoons

A flurry of vocal versions followed, including this one from Sarah Vaughan on her 1954 EmArcy album Images:

The song fits The Divine One like a glove.

Eckstine Enters Elegantly

And it’s a Warehouse law that I include any performance of an Ellington number by Billy Eckstine, so here he is on MGM, also from 1954:

The album that track comes from — I Let a Song Go Out of My Heart — is naturally awesome. Oh, and I think it's also mandatory that I say "Mr. B" at least once!

Gleason Gets Misty

We shift gears with this lush 1957 version from Jackie Gleason’s Capitol album Music to Make You Misty:

The alto solo is by Toots Mondello — a name that sounds like something Jackie might invent (I believe "Toots Mondello" founded the fictional Raccoon Lodge on The Honeymooners), but Toots (born Nunzio) was a respected big‑band veteran.

Vic's Velvet Version

The lushness continues with Vic Damone’s 1958 Columbia album Closer Than a Kiss:

Lovely backing from Frank DeVol to support Vic’s great voice.

Joya's Jewel-Box Gem

Jumping ahead to 1965, we meet up with my favorite Ellington singer, Joya Sherrill, who included the tune on her 20th Century Fox album Joya Sherrill Sings Duke:

Johnny Hodges and Cootie Williams back Joya on this track — just awesome!

Hodges' Homecoming

And speaking of Mr. Hodges, we’ll sneak back to 1962 for our closing selection: Johnny’s version from his Verve album The Eleventh Hour:

A gorgeous way to bring us full circle to 1938.

Do you have a favorite version — maybe one I didn’t include? Let me know in the comments!

Sundays with Duke #26: Prelude to a Standard

Still in 1938 with Duke Ellington, we arrive at another classic - Prelude to a Kiss. It didn't catch on right away, however, and it had a long, yes, prelude before becoming a standard!

An Instrumental Kiss

Like many of Duke’s songs, this one was first recorded as an instrumental before acquiring lyrics.

Here’s the original Brunswick recording from August 1938:

Very lovely record which was reasonably popular at the time.

Johnny and Mary One More Time

Following the trend of the last few songs we’ve covered, Johnny Hodges recorded it a couple of weeks later with a small unit drawn from the main band. And since the tune now had lyrics, vocalist Mary McHugh was back:

This was the fourth and final session to feature Mary with Johnny. As I’ve mentioned before, I don’t know anything else about her - it’s as if she appeared just long enough to record these sides and then vanished. But I’ll keep digging!

This version was also popular upon its original release.

The lyrics are credited to Irving Mills and Irving Gordon, the same pair who appeared on the labels for “Pyramid,” which didn’t seem to have a vocal version. Gordon is most famous for later writing the Nat King Cole hit Unforgettable, and I remember him making the rounds when Natalie Cole successfully revived the song in the 1990s.

A Sleeper Hit Waiting for Its Moment

As with some of the other songs from this period, Prelude to a Kiss didn’t get much traction at the time. But unlike those others, it eventually made a spectacular comeback and became something of a standard.

It hadn’t been played much up to that point, but Duke selected it for his 1945 Victor sessions revisiting several of his most popular songs:

It kind of sounds like it had been waiting for Ray Nance’s violin all this time!

Prelude Finds Its Second Life

Duke still didn’t feature the song much for the rest of the 1940s, but he began including it in concerts in the early 1950s and recorded it a few more times.

He cut a version for his 1954 Capitol album The Duke Plays Ellington, a trio date with bassist Wendell Marshall and drummer Butch Ballard:

Next came this 1956 recording that wasn’t issued until 1987:

I don’t know the circumstances of this session or why it remained unreleased for so long, but Johnny Hodges’ alto is fabulous as always.

A Standard at Last

The next version is from Duke’s 1958 Columbia album Ellington Indigos:

The early stereo sounds great on this extended arrangement, with another terrific solo from Johnny.

By this time, Prelude to a Kiss had become a popular standard, and Duke continued to feature it from that point on.

But it was quite a long prelude!

Sixties Saturday – Good Sam

Happy Saturday!

I mentioned on Thursday that Sam Cooke’s great take on Tennessee Waltz was released as the flipside of his RCA Victor single Good Times...

So why don’t we let that one spin today?

Good Times

That groove just walks in smiling.

Sam also tucked Good Times into his 1964 album Ain’t That Good News — and since the title track had already been a 1963 hit, let’s give that one a whirl too.

Good News

Another winner, bright as a brass section in the sun!

It’s always good news and good times when we’re spinning some good Sam!

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 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 — 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 for the vocal:

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:

A country/pop crossover tune is right in Kay’s wheelhouse and her 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!

Slow 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! Any thoughts?

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!