Sundays with Duke #18: A Solitudinous Stroll

As we remain in 1934 with Duke Ellington, we come across another classic composition that quickly became a standard - Solitude. It’s one of those Ellington pieces that seems to grow with him; every decade adds a new shade.

The Brunswick Hit and the Victor Delay

Let’s start with the original hit version, recorded for Brunswick in September 1934:

That record was very popular, but - as often happens with Duke - there’s some intrigue behind it...

The story goes that Duke wrote the tune in about 10–20 minutes when an extra song was needed for a recording session. Trumpeter Arthur Whetsol suggested the title “Solitude.” Fine… except the session in question was actually a January 1934 date for Victor, not the later Brunswick one!

Let’s spin the earlier Victor take:

Victor sat on the recording until Duke had left the label and rerecorded the tune for Brunswick. Brunswick released their remake in October, and Victor finally issued the original in November. No wonder the Brunswick version became the hit.

In any event, Duke performed and recorded “Solitude” many times over the years.

Like many Ellington instrumentals, the tune soon acquired lyrics - this time courtesy of Eddie De Lange, who would later team with Will Hudson to form the Hudson–DeLange Orchestra. And, as per usual, Irving Mills gets co‑writer credit.

Giving “Solitude” a Voice (1940)

Duke first recorded a vocal version for Columbia in 1940 with Ivie Anderson:

That’s from the same session early Blanton/Webster that yielded the vocal “Mood Indigo,” while “Sophisticated Lady” remained an instrumental.

Alone at the Piano (1941)

In 1941, back on Victor, Duke recorded this lovely solo piano version:

[Insert media file: Duke Ellington – “Solitude” (1941)]

Always great to hear solo Duke. That was from the Hot Piano album that included Fats Waller's version of Ring Dem Bells, which we heard here.

No Solitude Here: The 1945 Vocal Quartet

Next up is a 1945 Victor recording where the vocals are everywhere:

We have the trio of canaries — Joya Sherrill, Kay Davis and Maria Ellington - plus Al Hibbler. No solitude there!

That’s from the same sessions that produced the 1945 Sophisticated Lady, part of Duke’s mid‑’40s revisiting of his most popular numbers.

Expanding the Canvas (1951)

When Duke revisited Solitude in 1951 for his Columbia album Masterpieces by Ellington, the eight‑minute concert arrangement did not include a vocal. I suppose we would technically say it did not include a vocal by Yvonne!

A Visual Interlude (1952)

Back to vocals — here’s Jimmy Grissom, Al Hibbler’s replacement, singing with the band on this 1952 Snader video transcription:

Always great to see the band in action, including Harry Carney with that big baritone sax!

Jimmy (Jimmie) Grissom may or may not have been the nephew of Dan Grissom, former vocalist with the Jimmie Lunceford band. He sounds great. I get kind of a Hibbler-meets-Eckstine vibe!

Indigo Shades (1958)

Returning to instrumental mode, Duke cut this nice early‑stereo version for the Columbia album Ellington Indigos in 1958:

Old Friends and New Directions (1961–1963)

As we reach the 1960s, “Solitude” becomes a kind of calling card — a tune Duke could reshape depending on the company he kept - and it was some company!

First up, in 1961, Louis Armstrong returns with his pals Barney Bigard and Trummy Young on this track from the Roulette album The Great Reunion:

Satch had actually cut his own version of Solitude when the song was new. We'll catch up with that one soon!

From old school to modern jazz, Duke keeps up with Charles Mingus and Max Roach on this cut from the 1962 United Artists album Money Jungle:

Interesting take to be sure!

Then in 1963, tenor titan Coleman Hawkins joins the band for this excellent take on Impulse:

That was recorded during the sessions for Duke Ellington Meets Coleman Hawkins, but it wasn’t released until the next year on the various‑artists compilation The Definitive Jazz Scene (Volume 1). Thirty years later, we’re still running into unreleased‑recording intrigue!

One for the Road (1966)

Let’s spin one more version — this one from the 1966 RCA Victor album The Popular Duke Ellington:

A Lifelong Companion

We can see a definite trend: whenever Duke revisited his old classics, Solitude always made the cut. That was twenty minutes well spent in 1934!

Threaded Thursday – Johnny’s Flame

Today we pick up the word‑association thread and move from My Old Flame to Johnny Hodges’ You Blew Out the Flame (In My Heart) from 1951.

Hodges on His Own - and on Fire

Johnny was leading his own band during a break from Duke Ellington’s orchestra when he recorded the tune for Mercury:

It sounds terrific - but with Johnny on alto plus Ellingtonians Al Sears (tenor), Lawrence Brown (trombone), and Sonny Greer (drums), how could it not?

The tune actually began life as Rabbit’s Blues - “Rabbit” being one of Hodges’ nicknames - but the publisher quickly realized it had potential. Add lyrics, and suddenly it became You Blew Out the Flame (In My Heart).

This is one of those lyrically retrofitted pieces I can’t imagine without lyrics, because I knew the vocal version for years before I ever learned the backstory.

Ray and Tommy Light the Fuse

The version I always knew was Ray Anthony’s Capitol recording featuring vocalist Tommy Mercer:

I’m a big fan of the Anthony band and its sleek postwar sound, and Tommy Mercer is probably my favorite male band singer to establish himself after WWII.

Tex Steps Out

Ray Anthony had played trumpet with Glenn Miller’s band, but the star of the Miller outfit was tenor saxist/vocalist Tex Beneke, who took over the Miller band after the war. By 1951 he was leading his own group when he cut his version for MGM:

That one has a fresh, modern feel. Tex reportedly split with the Miller estate because he didn’t want to be confined to the Miller style - and you can hear that independence here.

TD Keeps It Swinging

Veteran bandleader Tommy Dorsey also took a crack at the tune for Decca:

This shows how TD could update his band’s sound to keep up with the times while still keeping that swingy undercurrent. Canary Frances Irvin definitely sounds early‑1950s to me.

Harrys Fans the Embers

Meanwhile, Harry James, still recording for Columbia in 1951, added his own version with the Skylarks vocal group:

It’s nice that so many bands were still sounding great in 1951 - but the times were changing, and the singers were increasingly the stars.

A Kiwi Flame Flickers in Auckland

Before we leave 1951, we have one more version of You Blew Out the Flame, and for this one we travel down under. Here’s New Zealand pianist Don Grant and his Rhythm with vocalist Esme Stephens on the Zodiac label:

How cool is it that the tune found its way to Auckland? Esme has a lovely style - but is she a kiwi rather than a canary? Do kiwis actually sing?

Full Circle: Johnny Rekindles the Flame

Now let’s sneak ahead to 1962, where we come full circle with this lush, late‑period update from Johnny Hodges on his Verve album The Eleventh Hour:

I don’t know about you, but Johnny’s alto sax will always keep the flame in my heart! 

Word Association Wednesday – Another Cocktail

Following Sunday’s “Cocktails for Two,” this week’s Word Association Wednesday lands us squarely in the glow of the 1942 hit Moonlight Cocktail.

The Big Bluebird Hit

The version that defined the tune for most listeners was the Bluebird recording from December 1941 by Glenn Miller and his Orchestra, with Ray Eberle and the Modernaires on vocals:

Classic Miller: the trademark reed blend, the gentle sway, and a tenor sax solo from Tex Beneke to seal the deal.

A Wartime Aircheck Twist

A fascinating comparison is this July 1942 aircheck, featuring the Miller band on radio with Skip Nelson stepping in for Ray Eberle:

Skip always struck me as a natural fit as the new "boy singer" for the band, but between the recording ban and Glenn’s military service, his recorded legacy ended up slimmer than his talent deserved.

Casa Loma Elegance

One of the loveliest non‑Miller takes is this instrumental by Glen Gray and the Casa Loma Orchestra, recorded around the same time:

It’s elegant and unhurried — and I can easily imagine Kenny Sargent stepping up to sing the lyrics.

The Okeh Smoothie

Once the tune caught fire in early 1942, more versions followed. I’m fond of this Tommy Tucker side on Okeh:

The label credits Don Brown and the Voices Three as vocalists, but it plays almost like a duet between Don and Amy Arnell, who’s in fine canary form.

Dolly on Patrol

A full‑on female‑lead version came from Dolly Dawn and her Dawn Patrol Orchestra on the Elite label:

Dolly was a major singing star in her day, and performances like this make it easy to understand why.

Bing Joins the Party

And of course, the most popular singer of the era - Bing Crosby - added his own Decca version to the mix:

Ozzie's Snappy Nightcap

Let’s sneak in one more: a brisk instrumental by Ozzie Nelson, recorded as a radio transcription:

So many cocktails… I feel shaken, but not stirred!

Side-Session Monday – Three Treks Through the Swamp

Yesterday we heard two songs popularized by Duke Ellington - “Cocktails for Two” and “My Old Flame” - wind up as classic Spike Jones parodies. For today’s side-session, we visit another tune recorded by both Duke and Spike: the 1928 standard Chloe (Song of the Swamp).

Duke’s 1940 Trek — The Swamp as Atmosphere

Duke recorded Chlo-e (with the old school hyphen) for Victor in 1940:

I’m absolutely fascinated by Tricky Sam Nanton on this one. His plunger-muted trombone always has personality, but here it crosses into something uncanny — a voice calling out across the marsh. It’s eerie, expressive, and completely alive. One of those moments where Ellington’s sound world feels like it’s breathing.

Spike’s 1944 Trek — The Swamp as Vaudeville

Spike Jones cut his version for Victor in 1944, shortly after the recording ban lifted:

This is controlled chaos at its best. Red Ingle is front and center with a bravura performance, and Country Washburne (Red’s old pal from the Ted Weems band) turns in another brilliantly unhinged arrangement. The City Slickers play it with that perfect balance of precision and anarchy.

And the label gag - Red billed as “Swamphead” - is exactly the kind of Victor in-joke that makes these records feel like a little clubhouse.

Tommy Dorsey’s 1945 Trek — The Swamp Swings

You’d think Spike’s record might have permanently tilted Chloe toward comedy, but Tommy Dorsey brought it back into the serious-swing column with his 1945 Victor version:

That’s Charlie Shavers on trumpet, absolutely tearing through Bill Finegan’s chart. It’s bold, brassy, and full of momentum - a reminder that “Chloe” still had plenty of musical life left in it.

Three Treks, One Swamp

So Victor Records take us on three very different journeys through the same murky landscape:

• Duke’s atmospheric call across the reeds
• Spike’s comic swamp revue
• TD’s swinging, brass-forward expedition

And after all that… we still haven’t found Chloe!

Sundays with Duke #17: Two from Paramount

We hit 1934 with Duke Ellington and come across a pair of now-standard pop songs that Duke didn’t compose, but recorded popular versions of. 

In addition to being written by the same team - lyricist Sam Coslow and composer Arthur Johnston - each song appeared in a different Paramount film featuring Duke and his orchestra. 

And in a twist no one in 1934 could have predicted, both tunes would later become best-known through novelty records!

“Cocktails for Two” (from Murder at the Vanities)

Duke recorded this as an instrumental for Victor in April 1934:

It’s an interesting take. If I were given a blindfold test, I’m not sure I’d immediately say, “Hey, that’s Duke!” The arrangement is elegant but not especially Ellingtonian - which makes sense, given that this was very much a pop assignment. 

Duke didn’t perform the song in the film itself; it was sung by Carl Brisson. The song itself celebrates the end of Prohibition!

“My Old Flame” (from Belle of the Nineties)

Duke did perform this one on screen, accompanying the film's star Mae West in the film. For Victor, he recorded his own version in May 1934 with Ivie Anderson on the vocal:

This one feels more like home turf. Ivie is wonderful, and the arrangement has more of that Ellington glow - especially with Cootie Williams delivering a classic growl-trumpet solo.

A fun label detail: the Victor disc says the song is from the Paramount film It Ain’t No Sin. That was the original title, but between Vanities and Belle of the Nineties, the Production Code went into effect, and a Mae West movie with the word sin in the title was not going to fly! Hence the last-minute retitling. 

And if you ever see Murder at the Vanities, you’ll know instantly that it’s very much pre-Code!

Other Takes Before the Mayhem

After these initial recordings, the tunes had perfectly respectable lives in the swing era. Here are a couple of versions...

Tommy Dorsey and his Orchestra — “Cocktails for Two” (1938)

A swinging, polished version with TD on trombone, Johnny Mince on clarinet, Babe Rusin on tenor and Yank Lawson on trumpet. Very cool!

Cootie Williams and his Sextette — “My Old Flame” (1944)

Cootie revisits his old flame with a small-group lineup featuring Bud Powell on piano and “Lockjaw” Davis and “Cleanhead” Vinson on tenor and alto. Nicknames everywhere, and a wonderfully moody performance!

Now the Mayhem Begins

As mentioned earlier, both songs are perhaps best remembered today for their radical reworkings by Spike Jones and His City Slickers.

Spike Jones and his City Slickers - “Cocktails for Two” (1945)

This was cut at Spike’s first post–recording ban session and became the biggest hit of his career. His earlier Bluebird sides (like Der Fuhrer’s Face) were wacky, but this is where the controlled chaos really begins. During the ban, Spike and his brilliant arranger Country Washburne had developed this new, hyper-detailed approach - a kind of musical slapstick where every sound effect is perfectly placed. 

And Spike could never really replace Carl Grayson after he left the band; his ability to sing a straight vocal and make those glugs was unmatched!

Spike Jones and his City Slickers — “My Old Flame” (1947)

If Cocktails is chaos, this is theater. The contrast between Paul Judson’s straight vocal and Paul Frees’ Peter Lorre parody is wild enough, but it’s what “Peter” says that puts it over the top. And the Slicker Chorus in the middle is brilliant!

Closing Thoughts

As a long-time Spike Jones fan, I first knew these songs through his versions. Sam Coslow was often quoted as disliking Spike’s treatment of “Cocktails for Two,” and it is hard to imagine a time when these songs were taken completely seriously. 

But Duke’s 1934 recordings take us back to that moment - before the sound effects, before the anarchy, before the songs became punchlines.

They were just two new Hollywood tunes making the rounds. Duke gave them elegance; Spike later gave them immortality of a very different kind!

Threaded Thursday: Not an Automobile Dealership

Following yesterday’s Sophisticated Swing, we pick up the Hudson–DeLange thread for an overview of the band co‑led by songwriters Will Hudson and Eddie DeLange.

The two had co-written the enormously popular Moonglow in 1934 (with the ubiquitous Irving Mills also getting credit), and by 1935 they’d teamed up to form a band. The basic arrangement was simple: Eddie, who was also a singer, would front the group, while Will mainly stayed behind the scenes, contributing arrangements and original compositions.

They recorded steadily from 1936–38, so let’s spin some of their sides for the Brunswick label.

Searchin’ and Slummin’

Let’s start with the band’s theme song, Eight Bars in Search of a Melody:

That’s a quintessential Will Hudson original - bouncy, bright, and sporting one of his trademark whimsical titles.

The flipside, Hobo on Park Avenue, offers another such example:

First Canary

Ruth is in between Will  and Eddie.

Since Eddie DeLange was also a singer, the band didn’t need a male vocalist, but they always had a topnotch girl singer. The first such canary was the wonderful Ruth Gaylor, who sings Will’s song You’re Not the Kind: 

Ruth also sang with Bunny Berigan and Hal McIntyre during her career which lasted from the mid-1930s to the mid-1940s, the core of the big band era.

Grinding Out a Big Hit

If we flip that record over, we find Organ Grinder’s Swing, one of Will’s most enduring compositions, and naturally part of the band’s book:

This was the first Hudson–DeLange recording I ever heard. I knew about them and had heard their songs by other artists, but hadn’t heard their band until this one popped up on a various‑artists big band CD back in the day.

Second Canary

Future vocal star Georgia Gibbs also recorded with the band. She’s billed as Freddy Gibson on I’ll Never Tell You I Love You,  another Hudson tune:

You can already hear the spark that would make “Her Nibs” a star - though I doubt anyone in 1936 would’ve predicted just how big!

A small mystery: since only Will Hudson is credited on the label, does that mean he wrote both words and music? And how did Irving Mills miss this one?

Eddie Takes the Mic

Flip the record and you find Remember When, credited to Will Hudson, Eddie DeLange, and (there he is!) Irving Mills, with Eddie handling the vocal:

Third Canary

Eddie leads the band while canary Nan warbles.

In addition to Ruth and Georgia, the band also featured Nan Wynn, one of the loveliest of all the canaries. Here she is on another piece co-written by Will, the novelty tune Popcorn Man:

Nan’s talent and good looks led to some movie roles, most notably in Abbott & Costello’s 1942 Universal picture Pardon My Sarong.

Retro‑crush mode activated!

The Flip Goes Haywire

The flipside of that record is Goin’ Haywire, another snappy Hudson original:

The Split: 1938

Although the band was popular, it was probably inevitable that Will and Eddie would part ways, which they did in 1938. Will kept the band; Eddie formed a new one. Both continued to record, but neither reached the success they’d enjoyed together.

Will Hudson on Brunswick

Will continued to record for Brunswick, with numbers such as 1938’s There’s Something About an Old Love with a vocal by Jane Dover:

You could easily mistake this for a Hudson–DeLange side - smooth arrangement, sweet canary vocal, the whole package.

Eddie DeLange on Bluebird

Meanwhile, Eddie recorded for Bluebird with his own canary, Elisse Cooper, who sings Stop! It’s Wonderful from 1939:

Eddie leaned more toward novelty numbers and arrangements, and you’d probably never mistake one of his records for a Hudson-DeLange one!

A Bright Spark

I really enjoy the Hudson–DeLange Orchestra. They sound exactly like a mid‑1930s swing band should sound - crisp, cheerful, and full of personality. They didn’t last long, but they left a bright spark behind.

And as for the title of this post: I’ve always thought “Hudson–DeLange” sounded more like an automobile dealership than an orchestra. Probably because Hudson was an actual car line, and DeLange reminds me of the DeSoto–Plymouth dealers Groucho was always plugging on You Bet Your Life.

But if it had been a dealership, I’d have gone down to the showroom, said “Groucho sent me,” and driven off in a sleek new two-tone auto with Nan Wynn in the passenger seat!

Note: For more Hudson-DeLange, you can listen to Mr. Ghost Goes to Town here and College Widow here. Enjoy!

Word Association Wednesday: Swing Meets Sophistication

For today’s Word Association Wednesday, playing off Duke Ellington’s Sophisticated Lady, it was only a short hop to arranger/composer Will Hudson’s 1937 tune Sophisticated Swing.

The Original

At the time, Will was co‑leading the Hudson–DeLange Orchestra with lyricist Eddie DeLange, so naturally they were the first to record it.

Let’s spin their Master label version:

That is certainly sophisticated. The Hudson–DeLange band was really good - but does anyone remember them at all these days?

The Cover

Another underrated band of the period was led by pianist Edgar Hayes, who cut this version for Decca in 1937:

Edgar’s piano gives this one a lovely touch.

The Canaries Land

Like many instrumentals of the era, Sophisticated Swing eventually gained lyrics - courtesy of Mitchell Parish, the master of retrofitting words to existing melodies.

Canary Gail Reese

A vocal version was recorded by trumpet star Bunny Berigan with vocalist Gail Reese for Victor:

Bunny is the greatest, and Gail Reese was a pretty slick canary.

I actually first knew the song from this Berigan version - it was on an old LP of his I had - so I was surprised later to learn that the tune was mainly known as an instrumental, with very few vocal takes.

But here’s another one: Bob Sylvester and his Orchestra with Olga Vernon for Variety:

I don’t know much about Bob Sylvester or Olga Vernon other than Bob had worked as an arranger for Hal Kemp, but it’s a nice record. Variety was one of Irving Mills’ labels (as was Master), so I’m presuming that the Sylvester band was in the Mills stable and that he placed the song with them, since Mills Music was the publisher.

One fun difference between the two vocal versions:

– Gail Reese sings the masculine lyric: “Honey, mascara your eyebrow and come with me.”

– Olga Vernon sings the feminized version: “Let me mascara my eyebrow, my chickadee.”

Also, Olga’s vocal is front‑loaded on the record, rather than appearing in the middle like Gail’s - which was far more standard for 1937. I notice these things!

The 1940s Comeback:

After these early recordings, not much happened with the tune until it started popping up again in the late 1940s.

Les Brown recorded it in 1947 for Columbia:

A great version - it became a staple in the Band of Renown’s book.

Then Count Basie recorded another terrific version in 1948 for RCA Victor:

Not typical Basie, perhaps, but a gorgeous arrangement. I’m thinking that’s future Ellington star Paul Gonsalves on tenor.

Also from 1948, here’s a bit of a throwback by Freddy Nagel and his Orchestra — who used the tune as his theme song — on the independent VitaCoustic label, with a vocal by Jimmy Jett:

The Brown and Basie versions have that crisp post‑war sound, while Freddy Nagel leans toward an old‑school sweet style - exactly what Midwest ballroom crowds wanted.

Fun fact: future superstar Patti Page briefly sang with Freddy’s band around this time!

The Fifties Bands

After this last vocal version, later recordings returned to the instrumental tradition — like this 1950 Decca version by veteran bandleader Russ Morgan:

An interesting record. I don’t hear the melody much, but there’s plenty of Russ’s trademark wah‑wah trombone. Unlike most 1930s bandleaders, Russ was at his peak in the  late 40s/ early ’50s.

The early 1950s also saw a wave of younger bandleaders making a splash. One of the most successful was Les Elgart, who used Sophisticated Swing as the title track of his 1953 Columbia debut:

That album was a huge hit and helped make Elgart one of the most popular bands on the college circuit.

I think the version that ultimately made it into the most homes was Jimmy Dorsey’s 1957 recording for Fraternity Records - because it was the flip side of his smash hit “So Rare.”

Let’s spin JD’s version:

It has a haunting quality. This was the second version I knew - I had/have the “So Rare” 45 (not when it was actually a hit, thank you very much) and played both sides a lot.

The Fifties Become the Fifties

I’m presuming Jimmy’s version helped spark the next couple of late‑’50s recordings, both of which take the tune on a bit of a wild ride into the new sounds of the day!

First up: ace country pianist Floyd Cramer, who used it as the flip side of his 1958 RCA Victor single “Flip Flop and Bop”:

A very snappy version - if not exactly sophisticated.

Next, also from 1958, The Applejacks on Cameo Records:

The wildest reinvention yet - a full‑on sock‑hop stroll.

The Boppy 1960s

We return to a jazzier approach with Red Garland’s quartet on the 1962 Jazzland album Solar:

A nice, bop‑ish take.

And we close with a return to the big‑band sound - but with a modern twist - courtesy of organ great Shirley Scott, who included it on her 1966 Impulse! album Roll ’Em:

Not lost on me is that Shirley titled her big‑band salute album after a Mary Lou Williams number. This time, Shirley Scott swings the band!

I can’t imagine that in 1937 Will Hudson thought his tune would travel through so many variations in thirty‑odd years. But as long as they spelled his name right on the royalty checks, who's complaining?

You know, this post started as a quick word association to spotlight the Hudson–DeLange record and maybe Bunny Berigan's… and wound up with an extra dozen versions thrown in. Funny how a tune meant to be a one‑off mention ends up dragging half the record shelf with it.

But honestly… would we have it any other way?