Sundays with Duke #28: Billy’s Bow

Opening the Door to 1939

As we step into 1939 with Duke Ellington, we immediately meet a milestone: (I Want) Something to Live For, the very first collaboration between Duke and a young Billy Strayhorn. The tune was essentially part of Billy’s job interview — one of the pieces he brought to Duke when he was auditioning his way into what would become one of the most fruitful partnerships in American music.

Jean with Duke

The Ellington band recorded the song for Brunswick with vocalist Jean Eldridge:

Duke handled the arrangement, but Billy sits in on piano — a lovely symbolic passing of the torch. Jean, usually a “relief vocalist” for Ivie Anderson for personal appearances, rarely got called for studio dates, making this session a small gem in the catalog.

The record didn’t make much noise at the time, but Duke kept the tune in the band book.

Here it is resurfacing in a 1945 aircheck featuring Marie Ellington with Billy at the piano:

A rare solo spotlight for Marie — no relation to Duke, but later married to Nat King Cole.

A Quiet Tune Wanders Out Into the World

The next studio recording seems to come from an unexpected corner: sixteen‑year‑old piano prodigy André Previn, who included it on his 1946 Sunset album Andre Previn Plays Duke Ellington:

Barry Ulanov’s liner notes mention that André didn’t know the tune before the session — a sign of how under‑the‑radar it still was.

And it's just André on that cut, not the trio.

Only one other 1940s studio version appears to exist: Lena Horne’s 1947 MGM recording, verse and all:

It was apparently released only in England at the time. Lena, a close friend of Strayhorn, likely knew the song through him rather than through its modest public life.

The 1950s: Dormant No More

As with many of the songs we’ve been dusting off in the Warehouse lately, the LP era of the 1950s brought a renewed appetite for deep‑cut Ellingtonia. Let's listen to a couple of Ellington-adjacent versions...

First up, Betty Roché from her 1956 Bethlehem album Take the A Train:

Betty crossed paths with Duke more than once — and yes, the album title is a spoiler for a future stop on our journey!

Then comes Eugenie Baird on her 1959 Design LP with the gloriously clunky title Eugenie Baird Sings – Duke’s Boys Play Duke Ellington:

Mercer Ellington — literally Duke’s boy — directs the band, and the wide stereo separation lets Ben Webster’s tenor loom large behind Eugenie's vocal.

Duke Returns to the Tune

In 1960, Duke recorded an unreleased-at-the-time instrumental version for Columbia:

It stayed in the vault until the late 1970s, but it’s a beauty.

We jump to 1962 for an Ellington‑adjacent take by Johnny Hodges, who included the tune on his Verve album The Eleventh Hour:

A brisker tempo than usual — and it works like a charm.

Duke reenters the picture in 1963 with Swedish singer Alice Babs on the Reprise album Serenade to Sweden:

Recorded in ’63, released in ’66 — a light Nordic breeze with Billy once again manning the piano bench for his song.

Also in 1966 came Ella at Duke’s Place, reuniting Ella Fitzgerald with Duke and giving us another radiant reading of the song:

Jimmy Jones, Ella's musical director at the time, sits in on piano for this one.

Full Circle: Strayhorn at the Piano

To close the loop, we return to Billy Strayhorn himself, who recorded a solo piano version in 1963 for his United Artists album The Peaceful Side:

It’s a gentle, introspective reading — the composer alone with his own melody, years after that first audition for Duke. Peaceful indeed.

A Foundation Stone

It may not have been obvious in 1939, but (I Want) Something to Live For was the first brick in a new foundation for the Ellington orchestra — the moment when Strayhorn’s voice began to intertwine with Duke’s, reshaping the band’s sound for decades to come.

Threaded Thursday: Waltzing and Swinging with Cinderella

Following yesterday’s tune, When a Prince of a Fella Meets a Cinderella, we keep the thread going with what might be the fella’s reply — the charming 1938 waltz Cinderella (Stay in My Arms).

British Beginnings

The song comes from British songwriters Jimmy Kennedy and Michael Carr, and it first appeared on record that same year courtesy of Joe Loss on Regal Zonophone, with the velvet‑voiced Chick Henderson:

Very lovely!

Ambrose Takes a Turn with Vera

Another major British bandleader, Ambrose, also took a shine to the tune in 1938. His Decca version features longtime star vocalist Vera Lynn:

It’s interesting that the lyrics weren’t gender‑flipped for Vera — perhaps the rewrite would have felt too clunky on the tongue.

Vera's Verse

Even more interesting: Vera recorded another version, in 1939, again for Decca, this time backed by The Six Debutantes:

This one includes the middle verse, which clarifies that Vera is quoting the fella’s plea to Cinderella rather than addressing Cinderella herself. A neat little narrative pivot tucked inside a pop waltz.

Glenn and Ray Crash the Ball

By 1939 the tune had crossed the Atlantic, and American bands began picking it up. Glenn Miller recorded it for Bluebird with Ray Eberle:

The Miller band was really hitting its stride here — and Glenn even steps forward with a pair of warm, confident trombone solos.

Jack Joins the Party

Of course, Glenn’s trombone was no match for the great Jack Teagarden, who both plays and sings his own version for Brunswick:

By this point the song has been fully de‑waltzed, but what a joyful, easygoing record it becomes in Jack’s hands.

Paula Brings the Pep

We return to a female vocalist with this Vocalion side by Al Donahue featuring Paula Kelly:

Paula really swings it — light on her feet, but with a little kick.

Carmen Cuts In

And for variety, here’s one more version that restores the tune to its waltz roots: Guy Lombardo and His Royal Canadians, with brother Carmen Lombardo on the vocal, for Decca:

It says something about a song when both Jack Teagarden and Carmen Lombardo can sing it as though it were tailor‑made for them!

Final Footnote: A Dance Card Full of Charmers

Cinderella has met a lot of fellas — and a few gals — along the way. Which version waltzes (or swings) its way into your heart?

Word Association Wednesday: A Modern Fairy Tale

To spin off Boy Meets Horn for this week’s Word Association, my wheels were turning for another tune with meets in the title — ideally something from around 1938. The obvious choice (to me, anyway) was the pop song When a Prince of a Fella Meets a Cinderella, subtitled A Modern Fairy Tale.

The Sisters Shine

The most popular version was by The Andrews Sisters on Decca:

This was early in the Andrews Sisters’ career, but their sound was already remarkably well‑formed — tight harmonies, crisp swing, and Patty unmistakably out front.

Bunny at the Ball

The tune also found its way to Bunny Berigan, who recorded his version for Victor with vocalist Jayne Dover:

No doubt that Bunny was assigned that song to record and wouldn't have picked it himself, but the band does a good job and Bunny’s trumpet is always great.

We had previously heard Jayne with Will Hudson, and she sang with a few other bands. An underrated canary!

Kay in the Court

Perhaps a more likely candidate to record this “Modern Fairy Tale” was Kay Kyser, who cut it for Brunswick with Harry Babbit:

The band was still leaning into the sweet‑band formula at this point, but their records from this era are consistently pleasant, and Harry's warm, easy delivery is a highlight.

Busse’s Ballroom Shuffle

We have one more record, this one by Henry Busse for Decca with vocalist Skip Morr:

I like the shuffle rhythm and always enjoy Henry’s muted trumpet.

Gracie's Glass Slipper

The first version of the song that I ever heard was not from a record, but from a radio show — The George Burns and Gracie Allen Show. Gracie sang the tune on the show from October 7, 1938:

At that time, the show was more of a variety format than the later sitcom style. George and Gracie weren’t portrayed as married yet, and Gracie was written as a bit man‑crazy. She often got a song, and her take on Prince of a Fella is pure Gracie: sweet, slightly off‑kilter, and completely endearing!

Oh, and I wasn't actually around in 1938 — I had an LP that featured a recording of that show!

Avery’s Animated Afterparty

1938 also brought us a delightful entry from Warner Bros.’ Merrie Melodies series: Cinderella Meets Fella, directed by Tex Avery. It’s full of Tex’s trademark wackiness and features an embryonic version of Elmer Fudd — still in full Egghead mode!

Cinderella and her fella were having quite a year in 1938 — on records, on the radio, and even in the cartoons. A modern fairy tale indeed!

Monday Side‑Session: Getting Rexatious

After enjoying yesterday’s Rex Stewart showcase, Boy Meets Horn, with Duke Ellington’s full band, today we swing our side‑session spotlight over to a handful of small‑group outings that put Rex right at the front of the stand. All were released as by Rex Stewart and his 52nd Street Stompers on Irving Mills’ short‑lived but fascinating Variety label — a perfect home for these little planets orbiting the Ellington universe.

December 1936: Enter “Rexatious”

This session yielded two titles. Rex is on cornet, joined by Lawrence Brown (trombone), Johnny Hodges (alto), and Harry Carney (clarinet and baritone sax). The rhythm section is Billy Taylor on bass, Sonny Greer on drums, and non‑Ellington ringer Ceelle Burke on guitar. Duke sits this one out — no piano on the date.

First up is the grammatically challenged but cleverly titled Rexatious.

Flip the disc and you get Lazy Man’s Shuffle.

The surprise here is Ceelle Burke switching to steel guitar — and it’s a delight. A tiny glint of Hawaiian sunshine sneaking into the Ellington orbit.

July 1937: Four Sides, One Session

The next four titles come from a single July 1937 session. Duke returns on piano, but the rest of the rhythm section is decidedly non‑Ellingtonian: Brick Fleagle (guitar), Hayes Alvis (bass), and Jack Maisel (drums). Johnny and Harry are back on saxes, with no trombone this time.

We start with The Back Room Romp. Freddie Jenkins joins on trumpet for this one number only.

It's subtitled “A Contrapuntal Stomp,” and it earns it — lines weaving, ducking, and teasing each other. And whatever Freddie is doing to get that trumpet sound… I dig it!

The flipside drops the subtitle (and Freddie), but keeps the wordplay charm — Tea and Trumpets.

For the next disc, we start with Swing, Baby, Swing:

Here’s where the label intrigue begins: later pressings quietly retitled the tune Love in My Heart. You’d assume lyrics were added, but the composer credits remain Duke and Hayes Alvis, and no vocal version seems to exist. A Variety‑label mystery for the ages.

The flipside keeps its original name — and it’s one of those titles that only reveals its alliteration when spoken aloud: Sugar Hill Shim Sham:

A Little Planet Called Rex

These small‑group sides are pure fun — relaxed, inventive, and full of personality. Everyone sounds like they’re having a blast, and Rex is unmistakably in his element. They’re miniature worlds in the Ellington cosmos, glowing with their own little atmospheres.

Aren’t we glad Rex met his horn?

Sundays with Duke #27 - Rex Meets Horn

We finish Duke Ellington’s impressive run of 1938 recordings with one more classic - Boy Meets Horn.

Two from Duke and Rex

The piece was written by Duke in collaboration with cornetist Rex Stewart specifically to show off Rex’s half‑valve technique. Duke supposedly enjoyed the challenge of building a melody around Rex’s six best notes - and somehow turning that limitation into a feature.

Let’s give the Brunswick record a spin:

That’s just a lot of fun. Rex is practically winking at us with his cornet, but the record never tips into pure novelty. It’s clever, but it swings!

Interestingly, the band had recorded an earlier version a few months before, in September 1938, under the odd title Twits and Twerps:

That one does lean more toward novelty. I kind of like it, but the finalized version holds up better - and Boy Meets Horn is an awesome title!

A Contemporary Cover

For a fascinating early cover of the tune, jump ahead to 1940 for this Columbia version by Benny Goodman, featuring trumpeter Chris Griffin:

Chris really shows his prowess here. He was an excellent all‑around musician - a real pro - but he’s mostly remembered as something of a footnote, the “other” guy in Benny’s powerhouse 1930s trumpet section alongside Harry James and Ziggy Elman. How could you attract any attention with two of the most extroverted, charismatic trumpet stars of the entire era playing next to you?

Another curiosity: this is one of the relatively few Benny Goodman records without a clarinet solo by BG. The only other one that comes immediately to mind is Ziggy’s And the Angels Sing. There must be a couple more. Anyone know one?

This was actually the first version of Boy Meets Horn that I was familiar with, as it was the flipside of the 78 of BG's theme song Let's Dance and I've had that 78 forever!

Rex Takes It With Him

As with other showcase numbers Duke wrote for his sidemen - like Echoes of Harlem” for Cootie Williams - the band played Boy Meets Horn frequently on the radio and at personal appearances. But Duke never recorded it again in the studio. Everything had already been said.

And just as Cootie kept Echoes of Harlem in his book after leaving the band, Rex continued to feature “Boy Meets Horn” as a signature piece. He recorded it several times with his own groups.

Here’s a fun version from 1946 on the new Mercury label:

Still sounds great!

Hi‑Fi Nostalgia Arrives

Because the tune was so closely associated with Rex, there don’t seem to have been many versions by other artists until the late 1950s, when hi‑fi remakes of big‑band favorites became a trend.

Case in point: this 1957 version by Tutti Camarata, from his Disneyland album Tutti’s Trumpets, featuring Shorty Sherock:

Tutti and Shorty had worked together in the Jimmy Dorsey band in the 1930s, and by 1957 both were in high demand - Tutti as arranger/conductor, Shorty as a top studio trumpeter.

One more tribute came along in 1962, when Jonah Jones and his trio teamed with Glen Gray and the Casa Loma Orchestra for this Capitol track:

Lots of fun when the boys meet the horns!

In the end, Boy Meets Horn stands as one of those perfect Ellington moments where a private joke, a technical challenge, and a musician’s personality all fuse into something timeless. What began as Duke teasing a melody out of Rex Stewart’s favorite six notes became a signature piece, a calling card and a small masterpiece of charm and invention!

Happy Fourth of July!

 Happy Fourth of July!

In keeping with the situation, let's go back to 1938 and spin the two sides of this Victor Red Seal recording by The Boston Pops Orchestra conducted by Arthur Fiedler:

Enjoy the day!

Threaded Thursday — Gordon Says Good-Bye

After yesterday’s Blue Prelude, which Woody Herman used as a theme, we pick up the thread with another entry in the very specific subgenre of Sad Gordon Jenkins Songs Used as a Theme Song by a Clarinet‑Playing Bandleader: the 1935 Jenkins classic Good‑bye, the long‑time closing theme of Benny Goodman.

Sixteen versions await — let’s lower the needle and begin the spin...

🎩 Goodman’s Gloomy Goodbye (1935)

The first recording came from Benny Goodman in late 1935. Jenkins had written the tune a couple of years earlier while arranging for Isham Jones, who reportedly found it too sad. Benny, however, thought it was perfect for his rising band — and perfect as a theme.

Benny's Victor recording was released at the beginning of 1936. Let's spin it:

Jenkins arranged it, Bunny Berigan supplies the muted‑trumpet obbligato to BG's clarinet, and Jack Lacey adds that lovely trombone solo. A moody, unmistakable classic.

🎙 Kirk’s Kansas City Curtain‑Closer (1939)

Good‑bye didn’t get many other recordings in the ’30s — Goodman’s ownership was that strong — but we do get one more: Andy Kirk’s 1939 Decca side, featuring Pha Terrell singing the lyrics for the first time:

It is a rule of the universe that I must mention that Andy Kirk’s band was underrated and Mary Lou Williams was awesome!

First bit of label intrigue: The label does not include the old-school hyphen in the title.

🌙 Eckstine’s Elegant Exit (1949)

Jump ahead a decade and we meet up with Billy Eckstine, who recorded the tune for MGM:

Mr. B never disappoints. He often dug up older songs that suited his style before it became a thing.

The Album Era Arrives

As LPs take hold in the early ’50s, Good‑bye becomes an album‑cut favorite — moody, slow, atmospheric, perfect for side‑closing.

🎼 Jenkins’ Triple‑Threat Tearjerker (1950)

Gordon Jenkins includes it on his Decca album that also included his version of Blue Prelude — Plays His Own Compositions — with Bonnie Lou Williams returning for the vocal:

A Jenkins song, arranged by Jenkins, conducted by Jenkins — the Jenkins trifecta.

🎷 Ammons’ After‑Hours Adieu (1950)

Tenor star Gene Ammons recorded it as a single for the new Chess label:

Label intrigue: Chess prints the title as Good Bye. Two parts, but no hyphen!

🎹 Kelly’s Blue‑Note Bow‑Out (1953)

A beautifully shaded instrumental from pianist Wynton Kelly on Blue Note’s New Faces – New Sounds:

🎧 Taylor’s Turntable Farewell (1954)

Fellow pianist Billy Taylor’s Prestige version follows:

The album is apparently titled Billy Taylor Plays for D.J.s — but only on the back cover. The front is just Billy’s hands!

🎺 Chet’s Cool‑School Send‑Off (1954)

Chet Baker’s instrumental (he wasn't singing yet) take appears on Chet Baker Ensemble (Pacific Jazz):

More label intrigue: the LP label spells it Goodby. The sleeve gets it right, though!

🌙 Connor’s Lullaby Leave‑Taking (1954)

Chris Connor includes Goodbye on her Bethlehem album Sings Lullabys for Lovers:

A lovely reading. Chris looks heartbreakingly sad on the cover — maybe she was listening to the playback of this tack!

💔 Dinah’s Dramatic Departure (1956)

Dinah Washington adds her version on the EmArcy album Dinah:

Fun fact: Wynton Kelly is in the band here too!

🎸 Mary Kaye’s Midnight Melt‑Away (1956)

The Mary Kaye Trio includes it on their Decca LP A Night in Las Vegas:

Guitarist/singer Mary and her trio are often credited as the first true Las Vegas “lounge” act — which is extremely cool!

🌆 Mundell’s Moonlit Mood‑Maker (1956)

Guitarist Mundell Lowe contributes a warm instrumental on Guitar Moods by Mundell Lowe (Riverside):

A guitar mood indeed. I remember first hearing Mundell Lowe's name as one of the musicians that Ray McKinley introduces on his 1947 recording of Howdy Friends. Who else but Ray could rhyme Mundell Lowe with fortissimo?

🎺 Butterfield’s Bittersweet Bounce‑Off (1956)

Still in 1956, the great trumpeter Billy Butterfield had a version of Goodbye on his That Butterfield Bounce album on the Westminster label, which was also issued as a 45 rpm single:

A brilliant trumpeter — though “bounce” is not the first word that pops into my mind when I think of Billy!

🎶 Frosh Four‑Part Farewell (1957)

The Four Freshmen include it on 4 Freshmen and 5 Trumpets on Capitol:

You can hear the harmonies that caught young Brian Wilson’s ear and helped shape The Beach Boys’ sound.

🌑 Sinatra’s Lonely‑Night Leave‑Taking (1958)

Frank Sinatra delivers a deeply moody version on Only the Lonely (Capitol):

Nelson Riddle arranged the album, but given Frank and Jenkins’ long history, you know Gordon must have smiled at this one.

🎤 Benny & Rosie’s Reunion Reprise (1956)

Let’s cheat a bit chronologically and slip back to 1956 for a perfect bookend: Benny Goodman revisiting “Goodbye” with his Sextet and guest vocalist Rosemary Clooney on Columbia:

By then Benny had played Good‑bye roughly a zillion times — and with The Benny Goodman Story hitting theaters that year, Goodmania was in full bloom.

Whether it’s Good‑bye, Goodbye, Good Bye, or even Goodby, it’s always a sad parting — but a beautiful one.

Warehouse Whispers — The Hyphen That Hid in the Stacks

Around the Warehouse, they say Good‑bye was the hyphen that refused to retire.

Variations like "to‑day” and “to‑night” slipped out quietly, but this dash kept lurking in the drawers like it knew where the bodies were buried.

Maybe Jenkins liked the old‑world sigh it gave the title. Maybe no one wanted to be the one to chase it out. Either way, it has a ton of period charm!