Word Association Wednesday: Hop to It!

For today's WAW, from Sunday’s Cotton Tail, it’s a short hop to a bunny — and an even shorter hop to The Bunny Hop!

🐇 Hoppin' In

Let’s start with co-songwriter Ray Anthony’s big Capitol hit from late 1952, featuring vocalists Tommy Mercer and Marcie Miller:

A lot of fun — pure early‑’50s party energy!

Capitol knew they had something, so in early 1953 Ray cut an instrumental version:

Also fun — and to me, that’s the definitive version. I knew the instrumental for years and didn’t even realize there had been a vocal take until it popped up on a Ray Anthony CD compilation in the early 1990s.

🎹 Duke … Doing What Now?

Capitol wasn’t done hopping. In 1954, they had Duke Ellington — of all people — record — of all things — Bunny Hop Mambo:

I can totally understand Capitol’s A&R folks thinking it’d be clever to combine two crazes of the moment — Mambo and The Bunny Hop — but I still can’t wrap my head around why they handed it to Duke Ellington.

Still, it’s a fun record, played with absolute precision by the band. Only Ellington could make a novelty‑mambo hybrid sound like a fully professional chart.

But it's like two of my worlds colliding!

🤠 Hepcats Hop In

If you look closely at the fine print on the EP cover at the top, you’ll see Capitol had another Bunny Hop up their sleeve: a 1953 version by Cliffie Stone and his Hometown Hepcats:

That one’s also a blast — a Western Swing vibe filtered through Capitol’s pop‑novelty lens.

📺 Bonus Hop: Ray on TV

For a little extra fun, here’s Ray Anthony performing the tune on his TV show:

So much fun — and wow, Ray could really hop!

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

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!

Word Association Wednesday: Sweet Voices

For today’s Word Association Wednesday spinning off from I Let a Song Go Out of My Heart, the last two words nudged me toward “My Heart…” — which, in my universe, leads straight to My Heart at Thy Sweet Voice, the famous aria from Camille Saint‑Saëns’s Samson and Delilah.

Clinton’s Classical Conjuring

And more specifically, it leads to Larry Clinton’s adaptation, recorded for Victor in 1938 with the ever‑radiant Bea Wain:

Larry had a real knack for turning classical themes into swing‑era charmers, and hearing my favorite canary float over that arrangement never gets old.

Savitt’s Showcase

From there, the melody takes a stylish detour to Jan Savitt, who recorded an instrumental version for Decca in 1940:

A beautifully tailored arrangement by Billy Moore, and what a terrific trombone solo from Al Leopold — warm, confident, and right in the pocket.

D’Artega’s Delicate Detour

Jumping ahead to 1947, we find a more classically oriented take by D’Artega and his Orchestra on the Sonora label:

The label helpfully notes that one‑time bandleader Will Bradley handles the wonderful trombone solo, with Charlie Margulis stepping forward on trumpet. A nice bit of personnel transparency you don’t always get on mid‑’40s releases on small labels.

Bostic’s Bold Breakout

To show just how versatile a great tune can be, here’s Earl Bostic’s 1954 recording for King:

Always a pleasure to hear Earl's alto — that unmistakable, laser‑bright tone cutting right through the arrangement.

Jackie’s Journey

When I first heard the Larry Clinton record back in the day, the melody felt familiar, but I couldn’t quite place it. Then it hit me: Night, the Jackie Wilson song! Sure enough, Night is based on the same Saint‑Saëns aria.

So let’s spin Jackie’s 1960 Brunswick record:

A deservedly huge hit. Jackie gets to show off his own sweet voice — soaring, operatic, and absolutely electrifying.

Conniff’s Choral Counterpoint Coda

We’ll close out with another track from 1960. This one is titled An Improvisation on My Heart at Thy Sweet Voice and it appears on Ray Conniff’s Columbia album Concert in Rhythm, Volume II:

I’ve always preferred the Conniff tracks where the male and female choruses provide wordless counterpoint rather than singing actual lyrics — those floating syllables give the arrangement a kind of shimmering, weightless lift.

And I do wonder how many people in 1960 dropped the needle on this LP and thought, “Hey, Ray Conniff is covering Jackie Wilson… but why is he using a different title?” A perfectly reasonable conclusion if your reference point was the Brunswick hit rather than Saint‑Saëns.

Aria’s Amazing Afterlife

A fascinating journey for a 19th‑century aria, winding its way through swing bands, classical pops, R&B sax showcases, easy listening improvisations and ultimately into the hands of one of the great voices of the 20th century.

Which treatment is your favorite?

Monday Side-Session: Caravan Across the Century

Yesterday, we heard several versions of Juan Tizol’s classic Caravan as played by various Duke Ellington groups. For today’s side‑session, we’ll wander a little farther into the dunes and check out how other bands and artists have handled this ever‑mysterious tune.

“Caravan” might be the most recorded number in the entire Ellington band book, and from the very beginning it inspired wildly different interpretations. We’ll do a little decade‑hopping and hit some highlights.

1937: The First Wave of Covers

We start with Bunny Berigan on Victor, recorded just a couple of months after Duke’s own version:

A sharp arrangement by pianist Joe Lippman, and Bunny’s growl trumpet is absolutely convincing. He could do anything he wanted with that horn!

Next up, pianist Edgar Hayes and his band for Decca, also in 1937:

I think I say all the time that Edgar Hayes had an underrated band. I stand by that statement!

And the tune even crossed the Atlantic that same year, where Ambrose recorded it for British Decca:

Three takes from 1937, each bringing its own flavor to the journey.

1946–1949: New Rhythms, New Ideas

This caravan moves fast, so let’s hop off in 1946 to catch Charlie Barnet on the Apollo label:

Charlie could never resist an Ellington‑related number.

Then in 1948, pioneer electric guitarist Les Paul gives the tune a then‑modern facelift on this multitrack gem for Capitol:

Possibly the first guitar‑centric Caravan — but far from the last.

Next, tenor sax star Flip Phillips teams up with Latin legend Machito for this 1949 Mercury side:

I’m sure Juan Tizol approved!

1952–1953: A Curious Case of Influence

We enter the 1950s with a fascinating take by The Esquire Boys for the small Rainbow label in 1952:

A very cool reworking featuring guitarist Danny Cedrone, who would soon play the iconic solo on Bill Haley’s Rock Around the Clock.

Then comes the intrigue: Ralph Marterie’s hit version for Mercury in 1953.

Ralph’s record is clearly based on the Esquire Boys’ arrangement from the year before. Was it authorized? Hmmm…

Late ’50s: Stereo, Steel and Swing

Next stop: New Orleans, 1958, where Al Hirt includes an extended version on his Swingin’ Dixie! album for Audio Fidelity:

Lots of fun in early stereo!

The guitars return with Santo & Johnny, whose steel‑guitar take was recorded in 1959 and released as a single in 1960 on the Canadian-American label:

I’m a big fan of Santo & Johnny — Sleepwalk is one of my all‑time favorites.

1960s: Big Signatures from Big Names

I’m also a big fan of Pérez Prado, who cut this version for RCA Victor in 1964:

Sounds great!

Then in 1967, Bert Kaempfert records his own unmistakable take, released in the U.S. on Decca:

You could do a blindfold test and spot both Prado and Kaempfert instantly!

1976: Disco in the Dunes

A quick stop in 1976 for — of all things — a disco version of “Caravan” by Rhythm Heritage on ABC:

I was a young big‑band fan in 1976 and don’t remember hearing this one. I’m sure I would’ve been horrified, but now it’s a fun artifact of the era.

2000: A Rockabilly Blast

We end our trek as a new century dawns with Brian Setzer’s roaring take with his orchestra from the 2000 album Vavoom!:

A long ride — but worth every mile! But how do we get the sand out of all those guitar amps?

Word Association Wednesday: A Nocturnal Stroll

For today’s Word Association Wednesday, it didn’t take long for me to wander from Duke Ellington’s Echoes of Harlem to another Harlem‑themed classic: Earl Hagen’s Harlem Nocturne.

The tune has inspired so many covers and reinventions since its 1940 debut that its origin story can feel a bit lost in the fog. But the tale goes like this:

Earl Hagen — then a trombonist and arranger for Ray Noble’s band — attended a Duke Ellington performance with his bandmate, alto saxist Jack Dumont. They were knocked out by Johnny Hodges’ alto sound, so Hagen wrote “Harlem Nocturne” in an Ellington mood, with a featured part for Jack.

The 1940s: A Slow Burn

The First Whisper: Ray Noble (1940)

Naturally, the first recording was by Ray Noble and his Orchestra, featuring Jack Dumont, on Columbia in 1940:

Such an atmospheric record — it sets the whole template.

Interestingly, despite its later status as a standard, Harlem Nocturne didn’t spark a wave of immediate recordings. It was a slow burn, just like the tune itself.

A Rare Early Echo: Shep's Reeds (Early 1940s)

The only other early‑’40s version I can find is this radio transcription by Shep Fields and his New Music:

That’s Shep’s all‑reed band — and it sounds great.

A Shift Toward R&B: Johnny Otis (1945)

The next commercial release seems to be by Johnny Otis in 1945 for the Excelsior label, featuring René Block on sax:

This one nudges the tune toward rhythm and blues — and René Block could really hold a note.

A Popular Turn: Randy Brooks (1945)

Also in late 1945, trumpeter/bandleader Randy Brooks recorded a popular version for Decca. Despite Randy’s virtuosity on trumpet, the spotlight goes to saxist Eddie Caine:

Across the Pond: Ted Heath (1948)

In 1948, British bandleader Ted Heath recorded a fine version for British Decca with alto saxist Leslie Gilbert:

A lovely reading.

The 1950s: The Tune Finds Its Crowd

Dick Jurgens Invites Us to Dance (1950)

Veteran bandleader Dick Jurgens recorded a nice version for his 1950 Columbia album Your Dance Date With Dick Jurgens:

It kind of seems like Harlem Nocturne is being treated as something of a standard with its inclusion on this album of mostly familiar songs.

Ray’s Trumpet Glows (1950)

Ray Anthony cut his version for Capitol in 1950 — and breaks tradition by featuring his own trumpet instead of sax:

I’ve always been partial to this one — the trumpet really works! And those Miller‑esque reeds make sense — you may recall that Ray had played with Glenn Miller as a teenager in the early 1940s.

Stan's Sketch (1953)

Also for Capitol, Stan Kenton recorded this striking 1953 version:

Kenton loved to experiment, so of course he features his piano against that big, brassy sound — and no alto sax solo.

Herbie Brings Back the Sax (1953)

Later in 1953, sax star Herbie Fields recorded a popular version for the Parrot label:

The Big One: The Viscounts (1959)

From here, there are zillions of versions — but we have to stop at the most famous: The Viscounts from 1959 on Madison:

It hit the Top 40 twice — in 1959 and again in 1965 (on the Amy label) — and it’s unforgettable.

1960: Space‑Age and a Vocal Turn

Esquivel’s RCA Victor Magic (1960)

In 1960, the always‑fascinating Esquivel included a version on his RCA Victor album Infinity in Sound:

I really dig Esquivel — no one else ever sounded quite like him!

His version features vocalese and has just one word, “Nocturne, sung at the endwhich makes it seem like the tune never had lyrics. But it did — written by Dick Rogers — though they’re rarely heard.

A Fascinating Vocal: Ernestine Anderson (1960)

One vintage vocal version does exist: Ernestine Anderson, on her Mercury album The Fascinating Ernestine:

Fascinating indeed. And awesome!

The Plot Thickens

Caterina's Blues (1957)

Now for some intrigue: there’s also a rival set of lyrics by Sid Robin, retitling the tune Nocturne for the Blues. The first recording was by Caterina Valente on Decca:

I’m not sure how I feel about Caterina’s vocal, but Sy Oliver’s backing is terrific!

The Velvet Fog Rolls In (1965)

And here’s a moody 1965 take from Mel Tormé, on his very literally titled Atlantic album Mel Tormé Sings “Sunday in New York” and Other Songs About New York:

Smooth as smooth can be. And how about the little nod to the original title at the end?

A Slow, Steady Stroll

I suspected when I stepped onto the Harlem Nocturne path that we’d end up hearing a lot of versions, and her we are 25 years down the road! Hopefully you enjoyed the stroll!

Drop a comment and tell me your favorite — even if it’s one I missed.