Sundays with Duke #34: The Flamingo Takes Flight

We stay parked in 1940 for one more Ellington jewel — Flamingo.

This tune didn’t come from Duke or anyone in the band. It was written by Ted Grouya (music) and Edmund Anderson (lyrics), two writers Duke had just signed to Tempo Music, his new non‑Irving Mills publishing company. He needed fresh material fast: beginning January 1, 1941, radio stations were set to ban all ASCAP‑controlled songs. Duke — and most major composers — were ASCAP members. Suddenly he needed non‑ASCAP songs in the book, and he needed them yesterday. Enter Grouya, Anderson and Billy Strayhorn.

Duke handed Flamingo to Strayhorn to arrange, and the band recorded it for Victor in November 1940, with Billy at the piano and Herb Jeffries floating that dreamy vocal over the top.

Let’s spin it:

That’s a tremendous record. It doesn’t sound like anything else — not in 1940, not in any decade. Herb’s voice doesn’t just sing the melody; it threads itself through the arrangement.

Herb was also a singing cowboy!

And Herb himself was an interesting character: Duke’s first regularly featured male vocalist, he lived to be 100.

I first heard Flamingo on a Reader’s Digest big‑band compilation ages ago, and it jumped out immediately. Johnny Hodges’ alto solo especially — nobody else sounded like that.

The record became a major hit in 1941 and even found its way into a Soundie:

Always fun to see the band!

After Duke's original version hit, plenty of covers appeared, but let’s stay close to the Ellington universe for now.

1944 — The Trio (Signature Records)

Now let’s jump ahead — clean needle drop — to 1944. Here’s an instrumental version credited to The Trio: Eddie Heywood (piano), a young Shelley Manne (drums), and — crucially — Johnny Hodges on alto.

A very cool take. Johnny gets room to stretch out compared to his brief but unforgettable 1940 solo. It’s Flamingo with the spotlight tilted just a little differently.

Herb Keeps His Signature Tune

Flamingo suited Herb Jeffries perfectly, so he kept it in his repertoire after leaving Duke in 1942. He recorded it several times, each one a little postcard from wherever he was musically at the moment.

1950 — Exclusive Records

This 1950 version is from Heb's Magenta Moods album for the Exclusive label:

Nice backing from Buddy Baker — lush, late‑night stuff.

1952 — Coral Records (with Les Brown)

Then Herb teamed with Les Brown and his Band of Renown for this 1952 Coral release:

A lovely version — Les’s band earns its “Renown.” Herb sounds relaxed, confident, like he knows exactly how this tune fits him.

1951 — The Billy Strayhorn Trio

We slide back a year for an instrumental version by The Billy Strayhorn Trio — Billy and Duke sharing piano duties, with Wendell Marshall on bass. Same Mercer release that included their Cotton Tail duet.

Always fascinating to hear Billy and Duke trading piano lines. It’s like watching two master painters sketch the same subject from opposite corners of the room.

1953 — Duke Ellington (Capitol Records)

And now we jump forward again — new label, new decade, same bird — to Duke’s full‑band instrumental version for his 1953 Capitol album Premiered by Ellington:

That’s (of course) Ray Nance on violin and Paul Gonsalves on tenor. Johnny Hodges was leading his own band at the time, between Ellington stints.

That's an interesting early concept album — songs that Duke introduced and/or popularized, but didn't compose.

1954 — Al Hibbler (Norgran Records)

We close with Al Hibbler, who sang Flamingo many times with Duke after replacing Herb Jeffries as the band’s male vocalist. His 1954 version comes from Sings Duke Ellington on Norgran:

Al sings it straight, clearly drawing from Herb’s original phrasing — and he sounds terrific. It’s a respectful, confident reading, like he’s stepping into a suit tailored by someone else but wearing it well.

The Flamingo’s Flight Path

So there’s our little aerial tour of Flamingo — from Herb’s original glide to Hodges stretching out, to Strayhorn and Duke at the piano, to Hibbler’s elegant tribute. A tune that kept finding new thermals to ride.

Tomorrow, we’ll catch even more versions and let this bird keep flying!

Friday Fun: Puff! Puff! Puff!

Let’s keep the smoke theme rolling and land on perhaps the most famous song ever written about the habit — Tex Williams’ monster 1947 hit Smoke! Smoke! Smoke! (That Cigarette).

Tex Lights the Match

Here’s Tex and his Western Caravan on Capitol:

I adore everything about this record — Tex’s sly, bone-dry delivery, the clever lyric, and that Western Swing arrangement that snaps like a match being struck.

The record was a genuine phenomenon, climbing all the way to number one on the pop charts, which was no small feat for a country record in 1947. Tex and co-writer Merle Travis had that rare crossover magic.

Phil Unfiltered

Naturally, other labels wanted a drag off the hit, and RCA Victor handed the song to a man who could deliver a novelty number like this in his sleep — Phil Harris, backed by The Sportsmen:

A song like this sits so squarely in Phil’s wheelhouse that if you didn’t know Tex’s original, you might assume Phil was the one it was written for.

And I love the contrast: Tex leans into the talking‑blues patter, while Phil more talk‑sings his way through the verses, giving it that Harris grin.

Did Someone Say Monster Hit?

I totally want Bobby's cardigan!

Plenty of other versions followed — some charming, some forgettable — but let’s close with one that’s simply too odd not to share.

Here’s Bobby “Boris” Pickett and the Filter‑Tip Kickers on RCA Victor in 1964:

Now, I love Smoke! Smoke! Smoke! and I love Monster Mash, but I’m not entirely sure what to think when those two worlds collide. It’s like someone dropped a cigarette into a bubbling cauldron and said, “Eh, let’s see what happens.”

Still — whatever you do — don’t puff, puff, puff yourself to death!

Threaded Thursday - Smoky

From yesterday’s Dream, we tug on that silky 1940s Capitol Records thread — the soft‑focus, late‑night “dream” vibe — and land right on Jo Stafford’s 1947 recording of Smoke Dreams.

Let’s spin Jo’s Capitol side:

Jo is, of course, Jo: effortless, centered, and luminous. She gets gentle, velvety support from The Starlighters and her future husband Paul Weston, whose arranging always feels like it's guiding you through the tune.

Smoke Dreams served as the theme song for radio’s Chesterfield Supper Club, where Jo alternated hosting duties with Perry Como. Hard to believe now, but there was a time when cigarette companies practically owned the airwaves — huge sponsors of network programs, and cigarette references floated casually through popular songs like it was just part of the weather.

But here’s the twist: Smoke Dreams wasn’t a one‑song title. There was an earlier tune with the same name, featured in MGM’s 1936 picture After the Thin Man.

So let’s spin Benny Goodman’s Victor recording of that Smoke Dreams, sung by the incomparable Helen Ward:

This comes from Helen’s final session with the Goodman band. And while Benny certainly had wonderful canaries after her — Martha Tilton, Helen Forrest, Peggy Lee — Helen Ward had a quality that never quite got duplicated. A kind of direct, unaffected warmth that sat right in the center of the beat.

And the song itself? You’d think it would be another cigarette‑smoke reverie, but no — this one is about campfire smoke drifting into the night. Two songs, same title, totally different worlds.

Hope you enjoyed these spins. And remember, kids: don’t smoke — and only you can prevent forest fires.

Word Association Wednesday: That’s the Thing to Do

Following Sunday’s Day Dream and rolling right into today’s WAW, my train of thought took a few scenic turns — there are so many songs with “dream” in the title. So why not go straight to Dream, the 1945 classic by Johnny Mercer.

🌙 The First Few Winks

Johnny was one of the bosses at Capitol Records at the time, and he handed the tune to his frequent collaborators The Pied Pipers, who recorded it in late 1944 for release in early ’45.

Let’s spin it:

That record was a huge hit, and it’s easy to hear why — it’s really a dream.

By then, June Hutton had stepped in as the Pipers’ lead singer, replacing Jo Stafford, who was busy becoming a solo star on Capitol.

💫 Frankie's Fantasy

Once the Pied Pipers’ version took off, other labels naturally jumped aboard. Over at Columbia, Frank Sinatra recorded it a little later in 1945:

The song fits young Frankie like a glove. Cue the bobby-soxers!

✨ Martin's Mirage

Singers like Sinatra were starting to take over in 1945, but big bands were still holding strong, so Victor had Freddy Martin cut Dream with vocalist Artie Wayne:

A typically smooth reading from the Martin band with a somewhat haunting vibe.

🌜 Jimmy’s Alto Apparition

Meanwhile, over on Decca, Jimmy Dorsey recorded the tune with Teddy Walters:

Jimmy’s alto floats right through that lush arrangement.

🌠 Castle in the Air

For one more band take, we head to the small Musicraft label, where trumpet star Lee Castle recorded his version with Tony Dexter:

Lovely trumpet work from Lee on that one.

💤 Santo & Johnny's Somnambulism

Plenty of other versions of Dream have appeared over the years. Let’s close out with this 1959 track on the Canadian American label from Santo & Johnny:

They’re in full Sleepwalk mode — and I love it!

Warehouse Whispers

Johnny Mercer was known primarily as a lyricist, and out of the approximately one zillion songs in his catalog, Dream is one of the very few for which he wrote both the lyrics and the music.

Quite a dream!

Monday Side‑Session: Two More Dreams

Following yesterday’s Day Dream — which began life as an instrumental from a Johnny Hodges–led unit inside the Duke Ellington orchestra — let’s spin a couple more dreams from the small groups.

These sides were recorded in 1939 while Duke was still under contract to Columbia, but they didn’t hit the shelves until 1940, after he moved to Victor. That little overlap period produced some of the most relaxed, beautifully lit small‑group moments in the whole Ellington universe.

Just Another Dream — Barney Bigard (Okeh, June 1939)

This one is exactly what the title promises: Just Another Dream, carried almost entirely on Barney Bigard’s clarinet. It’s practically a solo feature from start to finish — a soft, wandering little reverie with Barney’s tone floating like a lantern in a quiet room.

Dream Blues — Johnny Hodges & (Vocalion, September 1939)

Then Johnny steps back in for Dream Blues, and his alto does what it always does: it brings the dream, and it brings the blues. Hodges could make even a simple phrase feel like a velvet curtain being pulled open.

These small‑group sides always feel like a gift — a chance for the individual sidemen to stretch out, breathe, and let their personalities shine without the full orchestra swirling around them.

Musician Roll Call

Both tracks use nearly identical instrumentation, with the spotlight shifting depending on who’s leading the date:

• Barney Bigard group (June):
  Rex Stewart (cornet) and Juan Tizol (valve trombone) support Barney’s clarinet.

• Johnny Hodges group (September):
  Cootie Williams (trumpet) and Lawrence Brown (trombone) join Johnny’s alto.

And anchoring both sessions:

• Harry Carney — baritone sax, the bedrock

• Duke Ellington — piano

• Freddy Guy — guitar

• Billy Taylor — bass

• Sonny Greer — drums

A dream team for dream tunes!

Sundays with Duke #33: Billy and Johnny’s Dream

As we linger in 1940 with Duke Ellington, we come across an early classic from his assistant Billy Strayhorn — Day Dream.

Johnny on Bluebird (1940)

Billy wrote Day Dream as a showcase for the lush alto of Johnny Hodges, who recorded it as leader of a smaller Ellington unit in November 1940.

Let’s spin that Bluebird disc:

A couple of things about the label credits: Duke receives co‑writing credit even though Billy was the sole composer, and the label helpfully reminds us that this is indeed an Ellington unit!

Duke didn’t record a studio version at the time — Johnny had already said everything that needed saying — but he kept the tune in the band book for radio broadcasts and personal appearances.

Lyrics Arrive (1941)

Day Dream acquired lyrics fairly quickly. John Latouche added them, and the title was slightly adjusted to Day-Dream.

The only contemporary version I can find is this 1941 Decca side by Jimmy Dorsey with Bob Eberly:

It works quite well as a pop tune, so I’m surprised no other band picked up on it. I wonder if JD was intrigued by Johnny Hodges’ solo and wanted to try the tune himself — he does well by it!

LP Era Awakening (1956)

As we’ve seen with other slow-burning standards, Day Dream didn’t get much traction otherwise until the mid‑1950s, when the LP era really began to bloom.

Duke finally cut a proper studio version in 1956 for his Bethlehem album Duke Ellington Presents…: 

It doesn’t take long to know that Johnny Hodges is on this track.

June Floats In (1956)

The next vocal version also arrived in 1956, as June Christy featured the song on her Capitol album The Misty Miss Christy: 

Quite lovely — verse and all.

I think that Warehouse law dictates that I always refer to June Christy's as the Misty Miss Christy, so this time the actual album title did me a solid!

Coop’s Misty Instrumental (1958)

Interestingly, June’s husband, tenor saxist Bob Cooper, recorded an instrumental version in 1958 for his Contemporary album Coop:

Also actually pretty misty.

Ella Checks In (1957)

We back up to 1957 to check in with our good friend Ella Fitzgerald, who recorded a lovely version for her Duke Ellington Songbook on Verve — this time with the Ellington band, including Billy Strayhorn on piano: 

And of course, Johnny Hodges is featured.

Jo Joins the Dream (1960)

Moving to 1960, the wonderful vocalist Jo Stafford recorded Day Dream for her Columbia album Jo + Jazz: 

And yes, Johnny Hodges is featured in this cut as well!

Johnny and Billy Return to the Source (1962)

Then in 1962, Johnny recorded another instrumental take with Billy Strayhorn for their Verve album:

Another lovely version.

Billy's Solo Dream (1963)

                                

Then Billy recorded a solo piano version for his 1963 United Artists The Peaceful Side:

Quite peaceful, with nice vocalese backing from the Paris Blue Notes.

Joya’s Twist (1965)

Things take an interesting turn when former Ellington vocalist Joya Sherrill recorded the song for her 1965 20th Century Fox album Sings Duke. Give a listen and I’ll explain: 

You may notice that there’s no sax on that track at all. The main accompanist is Ellington stalwart Ray Nance on violin. The funny thing — Johnny Hodges plays on some of the other songs from the album!

Also, the label and liner notes from the original LP show the song as Day Dreams and credit only Duke as composer, even though the actual composer, Billy Strayhorn, plays piano on the track!

Note: By this point, the song title had been listed as Day Dream, Day‑Dream, and Daydream, so why not add an S!

Ray Returns (1966)

Ray Nance and his violin were back in the studio in 1966 with Duke for this lovely, unissued‑at‑the‑time recording:

Ray was first and foremost a trumpet player, but his violin graced many tracks over the years.

Full Circle (1968)

We come full circle as Duke and the full orchestra — with Johnny Hodges — record a gorgeous take for the 1968 RCA Victor album of Strayhorn compositions …And His Mother Called Him Bill:

I can’t hear Johnny’s alto gliding through Day Dream enough. Billy Strayhorn was onto something back in 1940 — and every version since just proves the point!

Friday Fun: Fine Times Two

When listening to versions of Fine and Mellow on Wednesday, we also heard Nellie Lutcher putting her stamp on the tune. That sent me back to one of her signature numbers that sneaks “fine” right into the title — Fine Brown Frame. So…

Here’s Nellie Lutcher and Her Rhythm with her big 1948 hit on Capitol:

That’s just pure, flirty fun. I remember first hearing it on a CD compilation around 2000 and immediately thinking, “Wait — what’s this? How did I not know about this?”

And because I’m a sucker for pop‑culture name‑drops, I love how she casually tosses in Robert Taylor, Robert Young, (Don)Ameche, and (Clark) Gable. Only Nellie could make a roll call of Hollywood leading men feel like part of the rhythm section!

As usual, she makes every song sound like it was written specifically for her. So I was surprised to learn sometime later that there was an earlier version of Fine Brown Frame — by Buddy Johnson and His Orchestra on Decca, recorded four years earlier:

It’s pleasant enough, but it doesn’t quite have that special spark Nellie brings. Still, it’s always fun to go digging and hear how a tune evolves before the right artist comes along and makes it shine.

But Nellie is fine times two!