Showing posts with label Andy Kirk. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Andy Kirk. Show all posts

Wednesday, August 12, 2026

Word Association Wednesday – Very Mellow


For today’s Word Association Wednesday, we take the “mellow” from
In a Mellow Tone and let it drift us over to Billie Holiday’s Fine and Mellow — a song that wears its title perfectly.

Billie Sets the Mood (1939)


Billie first recorded it in 1939 for the Commodore label:



Billie wrote the tune herself, and it appeared as the flipside of her searing, history‑making recording of Strange Fruit. Even with that kind of company, Fine and Mellow holds its own — a blues that feels lived‑in, unhurried, and unmistakably Billie.

Erskine Hawkins & Dolores Brown (1939)


A couple of bands picked it up after Billie’s version hit. Here’s Erskine Hawkins with vocalist Dolores Brown on Bluebird from late 1939:



I like this one a lot. Dolores Brown isn’t Billie — nobody is — but she brings a nice, steady presence. The real star for me, though, is pianist Avery Parrish. His playing here already hints at the mood and touch of his big hit After Hours, which he’d record just a few months later.

Andy Kirk & June Richmond (1940)


Andy Kirk took a swing at the tune in 1940 with June Richmond:



June’s vocal is terrific. She’s not trying to imitate Billie; she’s got her own thing going, and it works beautifully. And Mary Lou Williams on piano? Always a treat — she lifts every record she touches.

Nellie Lutcher and Her Rhythm (1947)


The pianists keep rolling as we jump ahead to 1947 for one more version. This time it’s Nellie Lutcher, playing and singing for Capitol:




Nellie always makes a song sound like it was written for her. She reshapes the tune just enough to make it feel like a Nellie Lutcher original.

Billie in Full Bloom — The Sound of Jazz (1957)

Before we wrap up, let’s watch Billie herself performing Fine and Mellow on the 1957 television special The Sound of Jazz, surrounded by a stellar group of musicians:


Billie really seems to savor those instrumental solos between her vocal choruses — listening, reacting, almost conducting with her eyes.

So yes… fine and mellow indeed.

Thursday, July 2, 2026

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!

Thursday, May 7, 2026

Threaded Thursday: Floyd Plays the Blues


Following Charlie Christian and Benny Goodman yesterday, we stay on the thread of pioneering electric guitarists working inside big‑band settings — and today we meet up with Floyd Smith, who recorded his signature number Floyd’s Guitar Blues with Andy Kirk and His Clouds of Joy for Decca in 1939.

Let’s spin it:

That’s a remarkable display of technique from Floyd. It doesn’t sound like anything else from 1939 — it’s almost like someone slipped a post‑war guitar solo into a pre‑war session!

I’ve always said Andy Kirk’s band was underrated, and one reason I enjoy it so much is the roster of fascinating musicians he nurtured, especially Floyd Smith and Mary Lou Williams. They gave that band a personality all its own.

Indies to the Rescue

Floyd revisited his tune a couple more times, including this small‑combo version from 1947 on the independent Hy‑Tone label:

The rise of independent labels after WWII gave players like Floyd the chance to record material the majors wouldn’t touch — and we’re lucky they did. These sides are little windows into what musicians actually wanted to play.

Krazy King-Sized Blues

One of the most successful of those independents was King Records, and Floyd turned up again in 1957 on a King remake of Floyd’s Guitar Blues, credited to the pickup group Krazy Kris and the Swinging Gentlemen:


It’s a fun, updated take, though I’m not convinced the tune changed enough from Floyd’s original to justify co‑writer credit for Chris Columbo and John Weigland. But that’s the record business for you.

El Rey de la Guitarra


We sneak into the 1960s with one more version — this time without Floyd himself. It’s a stereo remake by Glen Gray and the Casa Loma Orchestra from their 1962 Capitol album They All Swung the Blues, featuring guest guitarist Alvino Rey:


Alvino Rey was the public face of the electric guitar in the 1940s, so bringing him into a Hollywood studio for a session that needed a guitar master was a no‑brainer. I like how he gives a bit of his own twist while staying pretty faithful to the original. I'm a huge fan!

And there you have it — Floyd’s guitar resonating across four decades, from a 1939 Decca side to a 1962 Capitol stereo remake. A single tune tracing the evolution of the electric guitar in American popular music.

But who in 1939 — besides Floyd Smith, Charlie Christian and Alvino Rey — could have imagined that within 20 years, the electric guitar would be the predominant instrument in popular music?

Monday, March 9, 2026

Monday Side-Session: She Swings the Band!


Among the versions of Ring Dem Bells we heard yesterday was one by Andy Kirk and his Clouds of Joy, as arranged by the great Mary Lou Williams - The Lady Who Swings the Band. So for today's side-session, let's turn the spotlight on Mary Lou and see what she and Andy were up to in 1930, the year Duke Ellington first recorded Ring Dem Bells!

The Idea (1930)

By 1930, Mary Lou Williams had established herself as a composer, arranger and pianist with Andy Kirk and his Twelve Clouds of Joy. It's almost impossible to comprehend the level of talent as well as determination it took for a 20-year-old Black woman to succeed in the music business almost 100 years ago!

Here's a 1930 Brunswick recording by the Kirk band of Mary Lou's composition Mary's Idea:

That's pretty advanced for 1930. If Duke was leading the way towards more modern sounds, Mary Lou wasn't far behind. She had ideas all right!

The New Idea (1939)

In 1939, Mary Lou was still working with Andy Kirk (now with a non-specified number of Clouds of Joy), though not exclusively, as other bandleaders such as Benny Goodman were now contracting her for arrangements. She and Andy revisited Mary's Idea for this Decca record, giving it a snappy, modernized arrangement that perfectly captures the peak of the Swing Era.

That amply demonstrates that Mary Lou and the Kirk band were keeping up with the times!

The Tribute: The Lady Who Swings the Band (1936)

For fun, let's jump back to 1936 for another Decca record - this one a direct tribute to Mary Lou herself. It’s The Lady Who Swings the Band!

That's just a blast! The uncredited vocal is by Harry Mills of the Mills Brothers. I don't know how he came to sing that number with The Clouds of Joy, but I think it's awesome!

It's also interesting to catch the legendary lyricist Sammy Cahn near the beginning of his long career. He and his early writing partner Saul Chaplin were creating a lot of specialty material at this time and someone had the great idea for them to salute Kansas City's Mary Lou! 


Drop a comment for which "Idea" do you prefer - the 1930 original or the 1939 update. Either way, she swung it!





Sunday, March 8, 2026

Sundays with Duke #10: Flippin' and Ringin'



We’re flipping over Duke Ellington’s record of Three Little Words to find a Duke original that also made its debut in the 1930 film Check and Double Check: Ring Dem Bells.

The Original: Duke Ellington (1930)

This Victor recording is famous for its high energy and the literal bells ringing out, but the real highlight is the scat vocal by trumpeter Cootie Williams. It shows a playful side of the band that worked perfectly for the silver screen.


The Reunion: Lionel Hampton (1939)



While the song didn't get many covers immediately, it picked up serious steam by the end of the decade. In 1939, Lionel Hampton recorded this burner for Victor. Hamp was with Benny Goodman at the time and was leading stellar "pick-up" groups for recording dates.

If you check the label, you'll see a powerhouse combo of Goodman and Ellington sidemen—and Cootie Williams is right there revisiting the tune! Keep an ear out for Hamp giving a shout-out to pianist Jess Stacy.



The Arrangement: Charlie Barnet (1940)


Charlie Barnet "helps" Billy May with an arrangement!

As I’ve mentioned before, Charlie Barnet was a massive Ellington and he had the good fortune to employ a young Billy May as arranger. For this 1940 Bluebird session, they turned Ring Dem Bells into a modern swing masterpiece.

Let's spin it:

The Clouds of Joy: Andy Kirk (1941)


Andy Kirk admires the arrangement by Mary Lou Williams!

Another legendary architect of the era was pianist and arranger Mary Lou Williams - The Lady Who Swings the Band! Here she is providing a sharp, driving arrangement for Andy Kirk and his Clouds of Joy on Decca. It’s a testament to the song’s durability that it sounded just as fresh in 1941 as it did in 1930.



If you listen closely to the brass figures behind the solos, you can hear the same sophisticated DNA that Mary Lou would later bring to her arrangements for Duke himself. She was one of the few who could speak Duke’s musical language fluently and still add her own Kansas City grit to it.


The Solo Stamp: Fats Waller (1941)



Finally, we see the song move from the big bands to the solo piano. The incomparable Fats Waller put his own unmistakable stamp on the tune for the Victor album Hot Piano. Without the bells or the brass, Fats proves that the "swing" was built into the melody all along.



With so many legends taking a swing at this one, which version rings your bell? Are you a fan of Cootie’s original scatting or Fats’ solo piano stride?



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