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!

Threaded Thursday: After Hours Sessions

While listening to various versions of Fine and Dandy yesterday, I mentioned that Avery Parrish’s piano on the Erskine Hawkins side reminded me of After Hours. So let’s tug that thread and see where it leads.

🎹 Avery Sets the Mood

Here’s the 1940 Bluebird recording of After Hours by Erskine Hawkins and his Orchestra:

It’s easy to understand why that record was a sensation in 1940 — Avery Parrish’s piano pulls you straight into that after‑hours glow and never lets you out.

A little label intrigue: the initial releases listed Erskine Hawkins as the sole composer, but later reissues correctly credit Avery Parrish. I’ve never gotten the sense Hawkins tried to claim the tune; it feels more like a paperwork shuffle than a dispute.

🔥 Floorshow Steps In — 1949

Things get even more interesting with this 1949 side by tenor man Frank “Floorshow” Culley, titled After Hour Session on Atlantic:

To my ears, that’s at most a “re‑imagining” of After Hours, even though Culley and pianist Van Walls are listed as the composers. Whatever the case, After Hour Session is a tasty little groove — and it was a solid R&B hit at the time.

🌙 Benny’s Midnight Trio — 1953

The original title returns — with proper composer credit to Avery Parrish — on this elegant 1952 take by the Benny Goodman Trio on Capitol:

Benny is joined by his frequent small‑group partner Teddy Wilson on piano and the great Jimmy Crawford on drums. BG always surrounded himself with the best!

🍸Mancini at the Blue Hour — 1960

Let’s mix it up with one more version: Henry Mancini’s 1960 reading from The Blues and the Beat:

That’s pure Mancini — smooth, modern, and quietly luxurious. I dig that early‑’60s studio sheen.

Any of these sessions would make fine company for an after‑hours listen. And honestly, the fun is hearing how one little blues thread gets rewoven across twenty years of American music.

Sundays with Duke #31: Ben’s Big Breakthrough

Staying in 1940 with Duke Ellington, we flip over last week’s Victor disc of Never No Lament (Don’t Get Around Much Anymore) and land on another stone‑cold classic — Cotton Tail.

Ben Barges In

This side was essentially Ben Webster’s coming‑out party with the Ellington orchestra. Duke had never truly featured a tenor sax soloist before Ben arrived, and Cotton Tail became the perfect vehicle for his huge, urgent, modern sound.

Let’s spin it:

Forward‑thinking for 1940, influential for generations, and still fresh 86 years later.

Ben in Motion: The “Hot Chocolate” Soundie

Here’s the fun Soundie Hot Chocolate, showing Ben and the band tearing it up on camera:

Some fancy jitterbugging going on, too!

You may also notice that the title card shows the name of the song as "Cottontail," following the Stardust/Moonglow route!

Before Ben: No Tenor Stars

As I mentioned, it's fascinating that before Webster joined, Duke’s band had no featured tenor sax soloist. Barney Bigard played tenor in the section but took his solos on clarinet. Once Ben arrived, Duke always kept a tenor star on the roster — and each got their crack at Cotton Tail.

As an example, here’s Al Sears giving it his own spin on a 1945 aircheck:

That's an interesting bit from the announcer about the tunes title — I wonder if it's true!

A Tenor‑less Twist: Billy Strayhorn Trio (1951)

One of the most unusual versions is this 1951 Mercer label recording by the Billy Strayhorn Trio — no tenor sax at all:

Just Duke and Billy sharing piano duties, with Wendell Marshall on bass. A completely different texture.

Ben After Duke: King of the Tenors

Of course, Ben kept “Cotton Tail” in his book long after leaving Ellington. Here’s a great 1954 take from his Norgran LP The Consummate Artistry of Ben Webster (reissued as King of the Tenors on Verve in 1957):

He really was King of the Tenors!

Ella’s Scat‑Driven Spin

The tune doesn’t naturally lend itself to lyrics, but that didn’t stop Ella Fitzgerald from recording a mostly‑scat version for her 1957 Duke Ellington Songbook album on Verve:

That’s Ben on tenor, name‑checked by Ella, with Stuff Smith on violin and Barney Kessel on guitar adding tasty solos.

Ella at Duke’s Place

Ella returned to the tune in 1966 for this great take with Duke and the band from the Verve album Ella at Duke’s Place:

Totally different vibe — Ella becomes a featured “instrument,” with the band swirling around her. Paul Gonsalves gets a brief tenor moment, and Cat Anderson fires off those trademark high‑note blasts from the trumpet section.

Here's a great video of Ella with Duke and the band also from 1966:

Paul Gonsalves gets a nice "duet" with Ella and everyone seems to be having a blast — I think Johnny Hodges even cracked a smile!

Louis Armstrong & Duke

Let’s sneak back to 1961 for a similar vocal approach by Louis Armstrong with his All Stars and Duke, from their Roulette album Recording Together for the First Time:

Satch and Duke are in fine form, and Trummy Young on trombone and Barney Bigard on clarinet are awesome!

Lambert, Hendricks & Ross

We close with a full vocal version — Lambert, Hendricks & Ross from their 1960 Columbia album Sing Ellington:

This track is notable as I think it's the only version of the song with full lyrics. It’s clever and interesting, though maybe a little too cutesy for my taste. As always, your mileage may vary.

Stamped, carted and shelved — and as Ella says, "That’s Cot-ton Tail!"

Sixties Saturday: Boom Boom!

I saw the sad news that Freddy Cannon passed away this past week at age 89.

Freddy’s records were a staple of the oldies shows I used to listen to back in the day. The DJs always made a point of saying he was from Revere, Mass., and they always called him Freddy “Boom Boom” Cannon — like it was part of his birth certificate.

1959 — The Blast Begins

Freddy burst onto the scene in 1959 with Tallahassee Lassie on the Swan label:

That’s literally a blast — all snare cracks, handclaps, and teenage rocket fuel.

I remember Freddy saying that Elvis told him he had a copy of Tallahassee Lassie in his home jukebox. How cool is that?

1962 — Summer at the Park

Freddy’s biggest hit — the one everyone remembers — is Palisades Park from 1962:

That sounds like Summer itself: neon lights, roller coasters, cotton candy, and transistor radios turned up too loud!

It used to be a fun trivia nugget that Chuck Barris wrote Palisades Park, but explaining who Chuck Barris was now feels like a whole separate documentary!

1964 — Back‑to‑School Beat

For one more, let’s jump to 1964 with “Abigail Beecher” on Warner Bros:

That’s one of my favorites — pure pep‑rally energy — and it’s been on my Back‑to‑School playlist for ages!

Rest in peace, Freddy. Thanks for all the Boom Boom

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.

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!

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.