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.
For today’s side-session let’s hop back aboard with Billy Strayhorn
as we Take the “A” Trainfor 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.
It was a pretty short trip on my train of thought from Duke’s “Old Man Blues” to the 1932 song “The Old Man of the Mountain.” Once that title popped into my head, the rest of today’s playlist practically assembled itself.
The Straight Shoot: Cab Calloway (1932)
Let’s start off with Cab Calloway’s budget-label recording. Cab sings the vocal relatively straight here - almost restrained by Cab standards - which lets his great band stretch out and show off those crisp early-’30s choruses. Even on a bargain imprint, they sound like a million bucks.
The Harmony: The Mills Brothers (1932)
Next up are The Mills Brothers, who bring their signature early-1930s blend of vocal harmony and uncanny instrument imitations.
We're fortunate that The Mills Brothers were captured on film singing "The Old Man of the Mountain" as featured in the 1933 Paramount short "The Little Broadcast":
That's pretty awesome! The emcee is Roy Atwell, perhaps the preeminent exponent of spoonerisms prior to Doodles Weaver!
The Studio Oddity: Victor Young, The Boswells & The Mills Brothers
Things get even more interesting with this next record. It brings back The Mills Brothers, but also includes Connee Boswell and The Boswell Sisters, plus Fran Frey, all backed by Victor Young (who co-wrote the song). It’s a true crossover before crossovers existed. The “Lucky” designation likely ties it to the Lucky Strike radio shows. If anyone has the deep discographical scoop on this one, I’m all ears!
I like how Connee (still "Connie" at this point) gets a solo chorus and solo billing but also gets a hot chorus with sisters Martha and Vet! (I put this sentence in Helvetica font as a little wink to Helvetia Boswell!)
The Curveball: Fred Waring and His Pennsylvanians
Now for a fun one: Fred Waring on Victor, with session singer Chick Bullock and drummer Poley McClintock chiming in as the Old Man himself.
Waring made some wonderfully oddball novelty sides in this era - playful, tightly arranged, and just a little unhinged. It's hard to believe this is the same Fred Waring who, after a decade-long break from recording, would reemerge as the patron saint of square respectability in the 1940s!
The Visual: Betty Boop & Fleischer Surrealism
Of course, no discussion of The Old Man of the Mountain is complete without the Betty Boop cartoon. This is where the song goes full pre-Code surrealism. Through rotoscoping, Cab becomes the Old Man—slinky, supernatural, and just a little dangerous. It’s fascinating how the character shifts from a harmless hermit in the song to something far more sinister on screen.
So that’s today’s trek - from budget labels to animated cliffside shimmies. Does the Old Man feel like a friendly neighbor to you, or does that Fleischer rotoscoping make him a little too "Mountain King" for comfort?
Last Sunday, we were doing the "lazy gait" to
Duke’s The Mooche. Naturally, that word leads me to only one
place: the "low-down hoochy-coocher" herself, Minnie the Moocher!
The 1931 Kickoff
If Duke was the sophisticated soul of the Cotton Club, Cab
Calloway was its high-voltage engine. In 1931, he and his great orchestra
recorded this for Brunswick, and the "Hi-De-Ho"
call-and-response became an instant cultural phenomenon.
You can still feel the heat of this track 95 years later!
Minnie Goes to Hollywood (via Animation)
As a connoisseur of vintage animation, I have to
highlight the 1932 Fleischer Studios masterpiece. This cartoon is
legendary because the animators used rotoscoping to trace Cab’s actual
dance moves, turning him into a ghostly, swaying walrus. It is surreal,
slightly spooky, and brilliant.
Here’s a link:
That's just wild! I appreciate the live-action footage at the beginning of these cartoons, as it's a rare chance to see the performers in action!
The Wedding of the Century
Minnie’s story didn't end with her "kickin' the gong
around." Cab gave her a proper sequel in 1932 with Minnie the
Moocher's Wedding Day.It’s a high-energy celebration that
proves even a "moocher" can have her day in the sun—and the band is
absolutely smoking on this track!
That was easily the event of the 1932 social season!
But Cab wasn't the only one celebrating; his Brunswick
label-mates The Boswell Sisters cut their own incredible version of the
tune.
The Boswell Sisters and the Dorsey Brothers—how can
you beat that combo? I love how their tight harmonies give the song a
completely different kind of swing.
Between the "Mooche" (the gait) and the
"Moocher" (the girl), which one makes you want to get up and move
more?
