Word Association Wednesday — Jumpin’ and Jivin’

Following Sunday’s Jump for Joy, we make a quick jump back to 1939 for Cab Calloway’s great hit The Jumpin’ Jive.

Let’s spin Cab’s 1939 Vocalion record:

That’s just a blast — a perfect little nugget where everything snaps together. One of those records so alive, so self‑contained, that the contemporary cover versions never quite do it for me. It’s Cab’s song, full stop.

Here’s Cab again, singing The Jumpin’ Jive in the 1943 Twentieth Century‑Fox picture Stormy Weather, joined by the incomparable Nicholas Brothers:

That’s a tremendous amount of talent in one frame — Cab in full command, the band cooking, and the brothers defying gravity like it’s a parlor trick.

JJ's Jive

If we jump all the way to the 1980s, there is one version I love: Joe Jackson’s take from his 1981 A&M album Jumpin’ Jive:

Joe doesn’t just copy the style — he inhabits it. He treats the song like a living thing rather than a museum piece, and it shows.

And here’s Joe again, live on his 1986 tour:

Tom Teeley’s guitar gives the whole thing a rockabilly edge, and I dig it. It’s a different kind of jump, but still true to the spirit.

Warehouse Whispers

Time is a funny creature. When Joe Jackson’s version came out in 1981, 1939 felt like ancient history — a sepia‑toned world far, far away. But now more time has passed between Joe’s version (45 years) and today than had passed between Joe’s version and Cab’s original (42 years). Yet 1981 doesn’t feel distant at all.

I don’t know what to make of that!

Sundays with Duke #38: Everyone’s Jumping

Last Sunday, while we were digging into Duke Ellington’s I Got It Bad (And That Ain’t Good), I mentioned that the tune first appeared in Duke’s 1941 musical revue Jump for Joy. So this week, let’s jump straight to the title song itself.

Herb's Hurdle

Duke and the band recorded Jump for Joy for Victor in July 1941, with Herb Jeffries handling the vocal:

It really is joyous. Herb sounds terrific, but for me, Tricky Sam Nanton quietly steals the spotlight — his trombone practically sings the lyrics. It’s one of those moments where the Ellington band blurs the line between voice and instrument.

Ivie's Impetus

I’d known Herb’s version for years before stumbling across an alternate take from the same session on a later compilation. When I first heard it, I thought, “Hmmm… something’s a little different.” Then after Tricky Sam’s solo, the arrangement shifts — and suddenly Ivie Anderson comes in instead of Herb Jeffries.

It’s such a treat to hear the band try the tune with each vocalist. Herb’s take will always feel like the “official” one to me, but Ivie brings her own sparkle.

Ray's Romp

Duke kept Jump for Joy active in the band’s book, and after Herb left, it became a Ray Nance specialty. The band cut this version for Capitol Transcriptions in 1947, with Ray on the vocal:

This one sticks close to the original arrangement, with Tyree Glenn stepping into the trombone role. Tyree had taken over after Tricky Sam’s passing the year before — and while Tyree was a fine player, no one could truly replace Tricky Sam’s voice‑like magic.

Jimmy's Jump

Ray continued singing the tune for years, but let’s close with something different: an intriguing small‑group instrumental from 1956 featuring Jimmy Hamilton on clarinet:

This unreleased‑at‑the‑time performance is just Jimmy backed by Duke on piano, Jimmy Woode on bass, and Sam Woodyard on drums — a tight little rhythm section giving Hamilton plenty of room to dance, with a cameo from just the band's trombone section only!

So… Who Jumped the Best?

Plenty of jumping goin on — Herb, Ivie, Ray, Jimmy, Tricky Sam, Tyree. Each brings a different kind of lift.

Who jumped highest for you?

Warehouse Whispers

Was this the first song to rhyme groovy with movie? It seems so 1960s!

Tuesday Tidbit: Smoke Rings

Still thinking about Duke Ellington’s I Got It Bad (And That Ain’t Good), I’m reminded of how I first encountered that record. It goes all the way back to my early big‑band‑fan days — young, curious, collecting anything I could get my hands on, absorbing the era one 78 at a time.

One of the most enlightening finds from that period was the Smoke Rings album of Victor 78s from 1944. Eight discs, eight bands, each with a hit from 1936–43. It felt like a curated crash course in the pop landscape of the time. Duke’s side was in there, of course — and hearing it in that lineup made a lasting impression.

So today, I thought it would be fun to revisit all eight sides and add the impressions I had back then.

Side 1: These Foolish Things Remind Me of You — Benny Goodman

At the time, I mainly knew Benny Goodman as the King of Swing — Sing, Sing, Sing, Don’t Be That Way, all the up‑tempo instrumentals. So hearing his band play a ballad was a surprise. Helen Ward’s fragile, wistful vocal style fits the song perfectly, like tissue paper around a keepsake. It was my first glimpse of BG’s softer palette.

Side 2: Once in a While — Tommy Dorsey

A lovely record from the cold‑open trombone solo straight through the quartet vocal. I already knew Tommy Dorsey’s trombone sound, so that felt familiar. Jack Leonard I recognized from Marie, and later — once I’d heard more TD sides — I realized Edythe Wright was tucked into the vocal ensemble even though the label claimed it was a male quartet.

Side 3: My Reverie — Larry Clinton

My favorite of the set. Larry Clinton wasn’t as famous as Goodman, Dorsey, or Miller, so this felt like a real discovery. A star arranger leading a band rather than a star instrumentalist — that intrigued me. And Bea Wain’s vocal is just gorgeous. I raved about this one in this earlier post.

Side 4: Moon Love — Sammy Kaye

A wild card. Sammy Kaye sits firmly in the sweet‑band category, and sweet bands don’t get much respect now (or then), but they were an important part of the era’s musical tapestry. Same basic instrumentation as the swing bands — trumpets, trombones, saxes, rhythm — yet completely different results. That's always been fascinating to me.

The sweet bands heavily featured vocalists, such as Clyde Burke here. I liked this side then, and I still do — singing song title and all!

Side 5: All the Things You Are — Artie Shaw

This one’s the goods — wonderful song, wonderful band, wonderful singer. Artie Shaw’s clarinet is every bit as brilliant as Goodman’s, just in a different way. And Helen Forrest is one of the great canaries of the period.

Side 6: Intermezzo — Freddy Martin

Another sweet band, but Freddy Martin always stood apart. His tenor sax tone gave the reed section a rich, unmistakable sound. And his fondness for classical‑leaning material makes Intermezzo a perfect fit. I still occasionally mix up Clyde Rogers and Clyde Burke, though!

Side 7: I Got It Bad and That Ain’t Good — Duke Ellington

Here’s the seismic shift. At the time, I think I only really had heard the fabulous Take the “A” Train as far as Duke Ellington records. But this record was something else entirely. Ivie Anderson’s vocal, the band’s texture, and that brief Johnny Hodges alto solo between her choruses — that solo alone sent me down a rabbit hole.

And it wasn’t lost on me that Duke was the only Black bandleader included in the set. In 1944, that was a statement.

Side 8: That Old Black Magic — Glenn Miller

A fitting closer. Glenn Miller was the band I knew best back then — LP compilations of his records were readily available. But this was my first time hearing Skip Nelson instead of Ray Eberle, which felt different, but Skip fit in well during his brief stint before Glenn entered the service.

When this album was released, Miller was in the AAF, and no one could have imagined he’d be lost later that year. It’s bittersweet in retrospect.

I look back on Smoke Rings as a key piece of my big‑band education — a curated sampler that opened doors, raised questions, and helped set me on the path I’m still walking today.

Thanks for strolling down memory lane with me.

Warehouse Whispers

Because it’s my job to wonder about such things, I’ve always been intrigued by the billing of the bandleaders on the album cover. It’s not in chronological order, but it’s not quite alphabetical either.

My take: the artists who were still under contract to Victor at the time — including Glenn Miller — are listed alphabetically first, with Larry Clinton and Benny Goodman appearing afterward. Clinton had left the music business to serve as a flight instructor for the AAF during WWII, and Goodman was recording for rival Columbia by then, so Victor didn’t have much incentive to promote them too heavily.

Look at me thinking like a 1940s record‑label exec!

Monday Side‑Session: We Got It Good

For today’s side‑session, we follow up on Duke Ellington’s “I Got It Bad (And That Ain’t Good)” with ten contemporary covers from the 1941–42 period — a little cross‑section of how the tune moved through popular music right when it was new.

So, let's start spinning...

We start with Dinah Shore on Bluebird:

The tune fits early‑Dinah perfectly — that clean, youthful phrasing she had in the early ’40s.

Next up is Ella Fitzgerald for Decca:

Quite lovely. This comes from the period when Ella was still fronting the Chick Webb band after Chick’s passing, and you can hear that blend of band-singer polish and her emerging solo personality.

Then we have The Charioteers on Okeh:

A warm group sound with Billy Williams leading the way.

A number of bands also picked up the tune, usually with a canary handling the vocal. Here’s Benny Goodman with Peggy Lee on Columbia:

Typically solid work from Benny and Peggy — clean, poised, and right in their wheelhouse.

Jimmy Dorsey recorded his version for Decca with his star vocalist Helen O’Connell:

I think this type of song fits Helen better than the novelties she sometimes performed. JD’s alto is solid as usual.

Les Brown and Betty Bonney cut the song for Okeh:

Betty tends to be overshadowed by Doris Day in the Les Brown story, but she was excellent too — and this track shows it.

Bunny Berigan recorded his version with Lynne Richards for the small Elite label:

These relatively late records by Bunny are always intriguing — you can hear both the brilliance and the strain of those final years.

Next up is Vaughn Monroe, who had Marilyn Duke sing the vocal for Bluebird:

This is from the period when Vaughn was more of a bandleader who sang, rather than a singer who lead a band, as I like to say, as he didn't sing on every record and also recorded instrumentals.

We get a rare male vocalist as Eddy Howard takes the vocal himself on his Columbia side:

Eddy, like Vaughn, had his greatest success post-WWII, as they were able to directly compete with the singers in away most bandleaders could not.

The most intriguing contemporary cover to me is this version by Earl Hines on Bluebird:

What I find fascinating is the vocal arrangement: Madeleine Greene and the Three Varieties sing in the third person, while Billy Eckstine sings about himself having it bad. And that is good!

There have been countless remakes of “I Got It Bad” in the decades since, but these contemporary covers give us a snapshot of how the tune lived in its own moment — across labels, across styles, across the early‑’40s pop landscape.

We got it good!

Monday Side-Session: Sittin' and Singin'

Following yesterday’s look at Duke Ellington and Billy Strayhorn’s Just a‑Settin’ and a‑Rockin’, today we slide over to the covers, remakes and lyrical detours that kept the tune alive through the mid‑’40s and beyond.

As I mentioned, once Lee Gaines of The Delta Rhythm Boys introduced lyrics, the tune’s title shifted from settin’ to sittin’ — and the song suddenly had a whole new life.

Let's start with some versions from 1945...

🎙️ The Delta Rhythm Boys Get It Rolling

First, let's spin The Delta Rhythm Boys’ popular 1945 Decca record:

This one has that easy, confident glide the group specialized in — tight harmonies, a relaxed beat, and a groove that feels like it’s leaning back in a chair. You can hear why this version helped the lyrical “sittin’” catch on.

For further illustration, here's a video clip Lee and the fellows:

Nice!

🌟 Thelma Steps In

Here’s a terrific version by Thelma Carpenter on the Majestic label:

Thelma gives the tune a buoyant lift — her phrasing is crisp, her tone warm, and she swings the melody without ever pushing it too hard. It’s one of those versions where the band and singer feel perfectly matched.

🎤 June & Stan Swing the Verse

Next up: Stan Kenton on Capitol with June Christy:

June Christy sounds terrific here — bright, playful, and rhythmically sharp — and she gets to sing the rarely heard verse, which is a treat in itself. Kenton’s band gives the tune a bit more punch, but June keeps it cool and stylish.

Here's a video of clip pf June with the Kenton band:

Retro-crush mode fully engaged!

🎷 Georgie’s Webster‑Warm Tenor

For one more 1945 version, here’s tenor sax star Georgie Auld with vocalist Lynne Stevens on the Musicraft label:

Georgie brings a warm, slightly breathy tenor sound that nods toward Ben Webster’s feel on the Ellington original. And Lynne is definitely an underrated canary. Together they make a version that feels both relaxed and musically alert.

🎶 The Pied Pipers Blend It Beautifully

Moving to 1946, here’s a non-commercial transcription recording from The Pied Pipers:

A smooth, well‑balanced group performance with June Hutton leading. The Pipers give the tune a lighter, more polished sheen — almost a radio‑friendly gloss — but they keep the rhythmic bounce intact.

🎺 Delta Rhythm Boys Return

                                                  

While in 1946, we also encounter The Delta Rhythm Boys again, as they sing another version of Just a‑Sittin’ and a‑Rockin’ for Decca, this time backed by Charlie Barnet and his Orchestra:

Not sure why Decca had the group return to the tune so soon, but the more relaxed pace and big band backing give this version a totally different vibe.

🌫️ June's Recollection

Let’s jump ahead to 1959 for three more versions, starting with June Christy’s remake for her Capitol album Recalls Those Kenton Days:

Always great to hear Misty Miss Christy with that wonderful Capitol Records sound!

🇸🇪 Alice's Swedish Sparkle

Next up is Swedish singing star Alice Babs with this cut from her Decca album Alice and Wonderland:

I think she’s absolutely delightful but it's not just the charming accent - she has serious music chops as well.

Word is that Duke Ellington was impressed with this recording, which prompted him to want to work with Alice, resulting in some wonderful joint projects!

And we're fortunate enough to also have a video clip of Alice in action:

Total retro-crush mode!

🎹 Shirley Rocks the Keyboards

Let’s close out with an instrumental version – Shirley Scott with this single taken from her Prestige album Scottie Plays the Duke:

"Scottie" gives the tune a stylish instrumental reading, moving between piano and organ with her usual soulful touch. She keeps the melody intact but adds subtle harmonic twists that make the track feel fresh and modern.

Hope you enjoyed sittin’ and rockin’ with me today!

Sundays with Duke #36: Settin’ and Sittin’

As we stay parked in 1941 with Duke Ellington, we hit upon another classic Ellington–Strayhorn collaboration: Just a‑Settin’ and a‑Rockin’.

📀 Swingin’ into Summer ’41

The band recorded it for Victor in June, with Ben Webster featured on tenor sax:

That just moves along at such a relaxed, swinging pace, as if the band really is just a-settin' and a rockin'!

The other soloists are Ray Nance on trumpet, Barney Bigard on clarinet, and the unmistakable Tricky Sam Nanton on trombone.

📝 Lyric Lift & Title Twist

The tune was reasonably popular and stayed in the band’s book — but with a twist. Lee Gaines of The Delta Rhythm Boys added lyrics, the title shifted to Just a‑Sittin’ and a‑Rockin’, and unlike most of Duke’s retro‑fitted vocal numbers, he actually usually performed this one with the lyrics.

📻 Nance Nudges It Along

Although the band didn’t cut a vocal studio version at the time, it turned up frequently on radio broadcasts with Ray Nance handling the vocal. This 1946 aircheck with an extended arrangement is a great example:

It fits Ray beautifully, which likely explains why Duke kept it in rotation.

🎙 Capitol Curiosities

Studio recordings after that were sporadic. Duke and Ray revisited the tune for Capitol in December 1953 in a quartet setting:

An interesting take — unissued at the time.

Later that same month, the full band recorded another version, again with Ray on vocal, also left unreleased:

Hard to say why those two takes stayed in the vault, but they’re both worth hearing. Ray clearly loves singing it!

🌹 Rosie’s Rendition

Another shelved item: this 1956 track with Rosemary Clooney overdubbing her vocal:

It comes from the sessions for the Columbia album Blue Rose, though it didn’t make the original release. That's Buck Clayton with the snazzy trumpet work.

🎤 Ella’s Echo

For a version that did come out contemporaneously, we jump to Ella Fitzgerald’s 1957 Ellington‑adjacent take for Verve:

This comes from Ella’s Duke Ellington Songbook sessions — a small‑group setting rather than Duke’s orchestra — but we do get a welcome cameo from Ben Webster!

🎹 Billy Brings It Back

For the final word on the tune, we once again turn to Billy Strayhorn’s 1963 Reprise album The Peaceful Side for this lovely rendition:

I’ll say it again — very peaceful.

So the recording history of this tune ends up being a little sideways: a hit in 1941, a lyric added later, and a surprising number of versions that spent years just sittin’ in the vault before they finally got to rockin’.

Monday Side-Session - Taking the Train

For today’s side-session let’s hop back aboard with Billy Strayhorn as we Take the “A” Train for a few more stops.

1941: Cab and Glenn Catch the Ride

We kick off in 1941 with two contemporary covers that prove just how fast Strayhorn’s tune spread across the map once the Duke Ellington version hit.

First stop: Cab Calloway on Okeh:

Cab never imitates Ellington — he just swings his own way. Chu Berry on tenor, Dizzy Gillespie on trumpet, and Cab’s band sounding sharp as ever. He didn’t cut many instrumentals, so this one feels like a little treasure.

Billy May

Then comes, to me, the most fascinating contemporary cover of any Ellington hit ever: Glenn Miller on Bluebird:

Billy May turns the tune into a ballad — a sly, cheeky move, but also gorgeous. That Miller band could float a melody like nobody else - those reeds, the muted brass, a sensuous Tex Beneke tenor solo.

May and Strayhorn were old Pittsburgh pals, so you know they probably had a chuckle together over this arrangement.

1950: Tito’s Latin Express Line

Jumping ahead to 1950, Tito Puente on RCA Victor takes the train onto Latin tracks:

The label may say Tren Expreso, but that’s our "A" Train under the hood — bright, percussive, and full of Puente’s spark.

1954: Tex Swings the Standard Out West

Next stop: the Western plains with Tex Williams on Decca in 1954:

I’m a complete sucker for a big‑band standard played by a Western Swing outfit! It’s like the tune put on cowboy boots and decided to two‑step.

And Dance-O-Rama? I am so in!

1957: Jackie’s Velvet Ride

Back to the city for Jackie Gleason’s take from Velvet Brass (Capitol, 1957):

Velvety indeed — lush, slow‑motion brass with Toots Mondello gliding on alto. It’s the "A" Train dipped in gold leaf.

How sweet it is — Ralph Kramden never drove a bus this nice!

1960: Esquivel Goes Off the Rails

Then everything goes gloriously sideways with Esquivel for RCA Victor's 1960 album Infinity in Sound:

All the wild Esquivel touches — sound effects, stereo ping‑pong, space‑age sparkle, and that unmistakable sense of fun. It’s a carnival ride disguised as a train.

Count me in as a Hi-Fanatic!

1967: Homer & Jethro Play It Straight

One last stop: Homer and Jethro from their 1967 RCA Victor album It Ain’t Necessarily Square.

Not square at all — they play it straight, and it’s fantastic! Jethro Burns’ mandolin is brilliant — clean, quick, and full of personality.

Their novelty records were funny, but the musicianship was always dead serious.

Final Stop

A wild ride across decades, genres, and detours — but we’ll Take the “A” Train anywhere it leads us.

Thanks for the ride, Billy!