Threaded Thursday: How They Hypnotize

From yesterday’s detour into the 1938 Mercer/Warren tune that felt like it should’ve been in a Warner Bros. picture (Something Tells Me), we follow the thread to a 1938 Mercer/Warren song that actually was in a Warner Bros. movie: Jeepers Creepers, introduced in Going Places.

The song wasn’t just a hit — it was a big hit, Academy Award–nominated and instantly absorbed into the bloodstream of American pop.

We'll be spinning versions from its 1938–39 moment of peak popularity, let’s drop the needle...

Satchmo Starts the Spell

Louis Armstrong introduced the tune in the film and then cut his Decca version in January 1939:

It’s hard not to treat this as the definitive reading — the one that sets the hypnotic pattern.

Ethel Enters

But Satch wasn’t first in the studio. That honor goes to the wonderful Ethel Waters, who recorded it for Bluebird in November 1938:

I don’t usually slot Ethel into the novelty lane, but she handles the material with real ease.

Ford's Focus

Ford

Victor handed the tune to Larry Clinton, with Ford Leary on the vocal:

Ford was also a trombonist, so he’s similar to the Tex Beneke/Sully Mason side character, but not from the sax section and Ford was his middle name, not a nickname.

Pops' Swing Wing

Jack

Then there’s the king of the singer/trombonists, Jack Teagarden, singing with The Four Modernaires and Paul Whiteman’s Swing Wing for Decca:

Always fascinating to hear the Modernaires before their Miller years.

And yes — this is the version used in the 2001 horror film Jeepers Creepers. Not my beat either.

Paula's Peepers

Future Modernaires partner Paula Kelly sings it with Al Donahue’s band on Vocalion:

I’ll say it again: Paula was an underrated canary.

Leo Leaps In

Leo on left, Gene on right

The wonderfully unpredictable Leo Watson gives a relatively “straight” vocal with Gene Krupa on Brunswick:

“Straight” being a very relative term in Leo‑land! Hear more Leo here.

The Mills Make Eyes

A terrific Mills Brothers version — issued by Brunswick only in England at the time:

It sounds exactly like what the Mills Brothers singing Jeepers Creepers in 1939 should sound like!

Ambrose & Evelyn Abroad

While we’re in England, here's Ambrose and his Orchestra with Evelyn Dall on British Decca:

A sharp, stylish arrangement — very Ambrose.

Hot Club Creeping

Then to France for the Quintette of the Hot Club of France:

Django and Grappelly never miss!

A Four‑Vocalist Free‑for‑All

We close with a Benny Goodman Camel Caravan aircheck from January 17, 1939 — four vocalists, each taking a turn. I won't spoil who they are, Johnny Mercer will let you know:

You can probably guess who I think walked away with it.

And One More Cartoon Thread

Before we leave the hypnotic spell of this tune: I have to mention that there was a 1939 Looney Tune titled Jeepers Creepers. A fun watch — and another place where the song’s DNA seeped into the culture.

And yet, after all this spinning…we're still no closer to knowing where those peepers came from!

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?

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?

Bonus Song - "(There Ought To Be A) Moonlight Saving Time" (1931)

                                                   

As we're now fully into Daylight Saving Time, I'm reminded of a popular song from 1931 that puts a fun spin on the concept: "(There Ought To Be A) Moonlight Saving Time."

There were a zillion versions of the song when it was published in 1931, but the most popular was by Guy Lombardo and his Royal Canadians on Columbia Records with brother Carmen on the vocal:

It seems like Guy Lombardo's always in the mix when we're listening to early to mid-1930s songs!

Hal Kemp recorded another popular version of the song for Brunswick Records with a vocal by Skinnay Ennis and some snappy trumpet from Jack Purvis:

Such a song really suits the Kemp/Ennis combination, or is it the other way around?

Before leaving 1931, we'll jump over to England for this version by Ambrose and his Orchestra with vocalist Sam Browne on the His Master's Voice label:

That's a great arrangement! I like those Ambrose records a lot!

There were several other contemporary recordings of "Moonlight Saving Time," but I don't think that co-writer Harry Richman recorded it, despite having other records out around that time.

Then I don't think anyone recorded the song at all in the 1940s, but it made something of a comeback in the 1950s.

I like this one from Ray Anthony from 1952 with Marcie Miller and the Skyliners on Capitol:

We'll sneak in one more version, this one from Jackie Gleason's 1956 album "Music for Lovers Only," also on Capitol:

Gorgeous trumpet from Bobby Hackett on that one!

I would definitely vote to replace Daylight Saving Time with Moonlight Saving Time!

"Winter Wonderland" - Part 2 - The British (Records) Are Coming!

We listened to a number of 1934 recordings of the then-new "Winter Wonderland" and today we continue to 1935, where we find ourselves in merry old England!

There were several outstanding dance bands in England in the mid-1930s and a couple of them recorded "Winter Wonderland" during the initial 1934/1935 period.

We start with Ambrose and his Orchestra on Decca Records:

I think the vocal on that record is by Sam Browne, who worked a lot with Bert Ambrose.

Ambrose's records were also popular in the U.S. but he resisted offers to relocate, enjoying a long, successful career in England.

Another popular British band was led by pianist Lew Stone, who recorded his version of "Winter Wonderland" for the Regal Zonophone label:

The vocal on this one is apparently by Alan Kane, Stone's regular vocalist of the time.

Much less well-known (and not popular enough to get his picture on a cigarette card!) than Ambrose or Lew Stone was saxophonist Harry Leader, although he enjoyed a long career as well. His version of "Winter Wonderland" was on the low-budget Eclipse label:

As I understand it, the Eclipse records were only eight inches (as opposed to the usual ten) and sold at Woolworth stores in England, making them British cousins of the Perfect line!

The shorter running time has the Leader band playing at a quick tempo and the vocal with the group makes for a really fun record! The lower price didn't mean a lower quality performance!

The vocalists may be Sam Browne (moonlighting from Ambrose) and the Carlyle Cousins (who also worked with Ambrose).

Interestingly, the Cousins did get a cigarette card:

These are all the British versions of "Winter Wonderland" from the initial period of the song's popularity that I was able to unearth.

The most famous British bandleader of all was Ray Noble, who moved his operations to the U.S. in 1934, but I don't think he ever recorded the song in question.

While we're over in England anyway, we shall jump ahead to 1948 with this recording by the Squadronaires on London Records:

That's another fun version by the offshoot of the Royal Air Force Dance Orchestra, as led by Jimmy Miller.

Good work by these British bands who compare quite favorably to their American counterparts!