Sundays with Duke #30: No Lament At All

We remain in 1940 with Duke Ellington as we come across another true classic — Don’t Get Around Much Anymore.

It’s so well‑known by that title, and there have been so many vocal versions, that it’s easy to forget the tune began life as an instrumental under a different name. But aficionados know the band first recorded and released it as Never No Lament.

Let’s spin that 1940 Victor recording:

That’s one of those sides where everything locks in: the catchy tune, the tight ensemble work, and the brilliant solos by Johnny Hodges on alto, Cootie Williams on trumpet, and Lawrence Brown on trombone.

This was one of the earliest Ellington records I ever bumped into — it showed up on a couple of various‑artists compilations — and it went a long way toward making me realize just how great a band this was.

🖋️ A New Name, A New Life

As with Concerto for Cootie, after the original release, Bob Russell added lyrics and the title was changed to the familiar Don’t Get Around Much Anymore.

Unlike Concerto for Cootie / Do Nothin’ Till You Hear from Me, the original title Never No Lament faded into the mist. I get it — I can’t “un‑hear” the lyrics anymore, even when listening to an instrumental version.

Victor reissued Duke’s 1940 recording under the new title during the recording ban, and just like the Do Nothin’ reissue, it became a huge hit.

🎤 Hibbler Sings It

Despite the popularity of the vocal version, Duke seldom performed it with a singer, though the instrumental stayed in heavy rotation from then on.

He did record a studio vocal version for Columbia with Al Hibbler in 1947:

Al leans way more into his vocal eccentricities here than he did on Do Nothin’ Till You Hear from Me (recorded during the same timeframe), and he can’t quite get the words straight!

🎺The Ellington Alumni Parade Begins

From here, we’ve got a parade of Ellington‑adjacent versions. If you’ve been following along, you’ll know the artists by their first names: Ben, Rex, Ella, Cat, Cootie, Johnny and Louis!

🎷Ben's Velvet Tenor (1954)

Ben Webster lends his tenor to the tune on his 1954 Norgran album The Consummate Artistry of Ben Webster:

A lofty album title — but they’re not wrong!

🎺 Rex Rolls In (1955)

Next up, Rex Stewart with his 1955 take for Elite:

Great to hear Lawrence Brown alongside Rex.

🎙️ Ella Reimagines the Lyric (1957)

Ella Fitzgerald returns with this cut from her 1957 Duke Ellington Songbook album on Verve:

Ella takes even more liberties with the lyrics than Al Hibbler!

🎺 Cat Hits the Stratosphere (1959)

We move to 1959 for Cat Anderson’s version from his wonderfully titled Mercury album Cat on a Hot Tin Horn:

Those high notes — pure Cat!

🎺 Cootie Circles Back (1960)

Cootie Williams, the trumpet star from the original 1940 recording, returns with another track from his 1960 Warwick album Do Nothing Till You Hear from Cootie:

It’s fascinating to compare the styles of Cootie, Cat, and Rex.

🎷 Johnny Brings It Home (1962)

Johnny Hodges brings his alto back to the tune for his 1962 Verve album Johnny Hodges with Billy Strayhorn and the Orchestra:

Awkward title — great record. In addition to Billy Strayhorn, Cat, Lawrence and Harry Carney are among the Ellingtonians on the album!

🎺 Duke & Satchmo Share the Spotlight (1963)

Duke himself returns as he joins Louis Armstrong and his All‑Stars on their Roulette album The Great Reunion:

Trummy Young on trombone and old pal Barney Bigard on clarinet give great support to Satch (who sings the lyrics pretty straight) and Duke.

The track was actually recorded in 1961 during the sessions for Duke and Louis’ earlier album — they cut so many sides that there was enough for another release a couple of years later. So, not exactly a reunion!

🎶 A Snappy Reprise (1965)

Finally, Duke and the band deliver this crisp instrumental take from the 1965 Reprise album Will Big Bands Ever Return?:

It was recorded in late 1962, with Johnny, Cootie, and Lawrence all back in the fold — so at least that band returned.

📀 A Tune with a Thousand Lives

These recordings barely scratch the surface of the zillions of versions of Don’t Get Around Much Anymore, but what a scratch we scratched!

Monday Side-Session: The Sidemen Shine in '39

Following yesterday’s look at Something to Live For, which introduced us to composer/arranger/pianist Billy Strayhorn and vocalist Jean Eldridge, today’s side-session keeps both of them in the spotlight. We’re dipping into a handful of 1939 small‑unit sides recorded for the Vocalion label — little pockets of Ellingtonia where the sidemen stretch out and the textures get wonderfully intimate.

Johnny & Jean

We start with a Johnny Hodges–led date from February, featuring Jean on vocal. Here’s Like a Ship in the Night:

Flip the disc and you get the instrumental Swingin’ on the Campus:

Jean returns for Mississippi Dream Boat:

And here’s that record’s instrumental flipside, Dooji Wooji:

You can really hear Ivie Anderson’s influence in Jean's phrasing, which makes sense given that her main role was as a relief vocalist when Ivie’s asthma kept her off the bandstand.

It’s nice that Jean got a couple of studio moments with members of the band; she’s a small but distinctive part of the Ellington story, and these sides give her a little corner of the warehouse shelf.

Billy Sits In

The next few numbers feature Billy Strayhorn sitting in on piano and contributing arrangements — early glimpses of the voice that would soon become inseparable from Duke’s.

From June, here’s the Cootie Williams–led “Blues A Poppin’”:

Billy’s piano solo is a gem, and Cootie on trumpet with Johnny on alto is always a guaranteed good time.

Cootie and Billy return for September’s Johnny Hodges–led The Rabbit’s Jump:

“The Rabbit” was one of Johnny’s nicknames — and yes, he could jump!

Next up is October’s Tired Socks, also from the Hodges unit:

I’ve always wondered about that title. Is it just a bit of whimsical nonsense, or was someone in the band making a sly comment about life on the road?

November: A New Sound Arrives

We hit November as Barney Bigard leads his unit — with Strayhorn at the piano — on Minuet in Blues:

It’s a lovely showcase for Barney’s clarinet, with Rex Stewart adding his unmistakable cornet color.

And here’s the historical kicker: Duke’s new bassist, Jimmy Blanton, had joined the band by this point and plays on this side. Duke recognized immediately that Blanton was something extraordinary, and at the same session he recorded a pair of duets with him for Columbia.

Here’s the simply titled Blues:

And the flipside, Plucked Again:

With Billy Strayhorn and Jimmy Blanton arriving in 1939 — and Ben Webster soon to join in January 1940 — the Ellington orchestra was on the brink of one of its most astonishing periods. You can feel the ground shifting under these small‑group sides.

Warehouse Whispers

Back-room bulletin from the label files

1939 wasn’t just a musical turning point — it was a business one. Duke severed his long-running relationship with Irving Mills that year, reshaping the machinery behind the band just as the music itself was evolving. A pivotal year on every front!

Sundays with Duke #28: Billy’s Bow

Opening the Door to 1939

As we step into 1939 with Duke Ellington, we immediately meet a milestone: (I Want) Something to Live For, the very first collaboration between Duke and a young Billy Strayhorn. The tune was essentially part of Billy’s job interview — one of the pieces he brought to Duke when he was auditioning his way into what would become one of the most fruitful partnerships in American music.

Jean with Duke

The Ellington band recorded the song for Brunswick with vocalist Jean Eldridge:

Duke handled the arrangement, but Billy sits in on piano — a lovely symbolic passing of the torch. Jean, usually a “relief vocalist” for Ivie Anderson for personal appearances, rarely got called for studio dates, making this session a small gem in the catalog.

The record didn’t make much noise at the time, but Duke kept the tune in the band book.

Here it is resurfacing in a 1945 aircheck featuring Marie Ellington with Billy at the piano:

A rare solo spotlight for Marie — no relation to Duke, but later married to Nat King Cole.

A Quiet Tune Wanders Out Into the World

The next studio recording seems to come from an unexpected corner: sixteen‑year‑old piano prodigy André Previn, who included it on his 1946 Sunset album Andre Previn Plays Duke Ellington:

Barry Ulanov’s liner notes mention that André didn’t know the tune before the session — a sign of how under‑the‑radar it still was.

And it's just André on that cut, not the trio.

Only one other 1940s studio version appears to exist: Lena Horne’s 1947 MGM recording, verse and all:

It was apparently released only in England at the time. Lena, a close friend of Strayhorn, likely knew the song through him rather than through its modest public life.

The 1950s: Dormant No More

As with many of the songs we’ve been dusting off in the Warehouse lately, the LP era of the 1950s brought a renewed appetite for deep‑cut Ellingtonia. Let's listen to a couple of Ellington-adjacent versions...

First up, Betty Roché from her 1956 Bethlehem album Take the A Train:

Betty crossed paths with Duke more than once — and yes, the album title is a spoiler for a future stop on our journey!

Then comes Eugenie Baird on her 1959 Design LP with the gloriously clunky title Eugenie Baird Sings – Duke’s Boys Play Duke Ellington:

Mercer Ellington — literally Duke’s boy — directs the band, and the wide stereo separation lets Ben Webster’s tenor loom large behind Eugenie's vocal.

Duke Returns to the Tune

In 1960, Duke recorded an unreleased-at-the-time instrumental version for Columbia:

It stayed in the vault until the late 1970s, but it’s a beauty.

We jump to 1962 for an Ellington‑adjacent take by Johnny Hodges, who included the tune on his Verve album The Eleventh Hour:

A brisker tempo than usual — and it works like a charm.

Duke reenters the picture in 1963 with Swedish singer Alice Babs on the Reprise album Serenade to Sweden:

Recorded in ’63, released in ’66 — a light Nordic breeze with Billy once again manning the piano bench for his song.

Also in 1966 came Ella at Duke’s Place, reuniting Ella Fitzgerald with Duke and giving us another radiant reading of the song:

Jimmy Jones, Ella's musical director at the time, sits in on piano for this one.

Full Circle: Strayhorn at the Piano

To close the loop, we return to Billy Strayhorn himself, who recorded a solo piano version in 1963 for his United Artists album The Peaceful Side:

It’s a gentle, introspective reading — the composer alone with his own melody, years after that first audition for Duke. Peaceful indeed.

A Foundation Stone

It may not have been obvious in 1939, but (I Want) Something to Live For was the first brick in a new foundation for the Ellington orchestra — the moment when Strayhorn’s voice began to intertwine with Duke’s, reshaping the band’s sound for decades to come.

Monday Side-Session: A Passel of Preludes

For today’s side‑session, we’re spinning a dozen memorable versions of Duke Ellington’s Prelude to a Kiss.

There have been zillions of recordings over the years, but I’ve distilled a playlist of twelve that carry particular historical or musical interest — to me anyway!

Himber Hits It First

Although Duke’s and Johnny Hodges’ 1938 recordings were popular, there seems to have been only one contemporary cover: Richard Himber and his Rhythmic Pyramids Orchestra, with vocalist Stuart Allen, on Victor in 1938:

The tune adapts well to a more “dance band” style, but oddly enough, no other bands or labels picked it up at the time.

A Novachord Nicety

The next version is more of a novelty. Ted Steele and his Novatones recorded it using the early Novachord synthesizer for the 1940 Decca album Mood Indigo, which featured Ted’s interpretations of Ellington songs:

Very intriguing! Kind of ethereal, if you will. And an early "concept" album!

Brown's Brief Blast

After that, “Prelude to a Kiss” went dormant for a few years — but by the mid‑1940s, sparks began to fly again. Les Brown recorded a V‑Disc version in 1944:

It’s a nice reading, but since it wasn’t commercially issued, it didn’t make much of a dent.

Carter’s Capitol Caress

The next commercial release seems to be Benny Carter’s 1947 Capitol recording:

A gorgeous showcase for Benny’s alto.

Getz Goes Nordic

By the early 1950s, the floodgates opened. Here’s a 1951 Swedish side by American tenor star Stan Getz:

Very cool!

Teddi Takes the Torch

We finally get another vocal version in 1953, when Teddi King included it on her Storyville album ’Round Midnight:

The simple piano accompaniment by Beryl Booker lets the lyrics shine.

Sassy Sarah Swoons

A flurry of vocal versions followed, including this one from Sarah Vaughan on her 1954 EmArcy album Images:

The song fits The Divine One like a glove.

Eckstine Enters Elegantly

And it’s a Warehouse law that I include any performance of an Ellington number by Billy Eckstine, so here he is on MGM, also from 1954:

The album that track comes from — I Let a Song Go Out of My Heart — is naturally awesome. Oh, and I think it's also mandatory that I say "Mr. B" at least once!

Gleason Gets Misty

We shift gears with this lush 1957 version from Jackie Gleason’s Capitol album Music to Make You Misty:

The alto solo is by Toots Mondello — a name that sounds like something Jackie might invent (I believe "Toots Mondello" founded the fictional Raccoon Lodge on The Honeymooners), but Toots (born Nunzio) was a respected big‑band veteran.

Vic's Velvet Version

The lushness continues with Vic Damone’s 1958 Columbia album Closer Than a Kiss:

Lovely backing from Frank DeVol to support Vic’s great voice.

Joya's Jewel-Box Gem

Jumping ahead to 1965, we meet up with my favorite Ellington singer, Joya Sherrill, who included the tune on her 20th Century Fox album Joya Sherrill Sings Duke:

Johnny Hodges and Cootie Williams back Joya on this track — just awesome!

Hodges' Homecoming

And speaking of Mr. Hodges, we’ll sneak back to 1962 for our closing selection: Johnny’s version from his Verve album The Eleventh Hour:

A gorgeous way to bring us full circle to 1938.

Do you have a favorite version — maybe one I didn’t include? Let me know in the comments!

Sundays with Duke #26: Prelude to a Standard

Still in 1938 with Duke Ellington, we arrive at another classic - Prelude to a Kiss. It didn't catch on right away, however, and it had a long, yes, prelude before becoming a standard!

An Instrumental Kiss

Like many of Duke’s songs, this one was first recorded as an instrumental before acquiring lyrics.

Here’s the original Brunswick recording from August 1938:

Very lovely record which was reasonably popular at the time.

Johnny and Mary One More Time

Following the trend of the last few songs we’ve covered, Johnny Hodges recorded it a couple of weeks later with a small unit drawn from the main band. And since the tune now had lyrics, vocalist Mary McHugh was back:

This was the fourth and final session to feature Mary with Johnny. As I’ve mentioned before, I don’t know anything else about her - it’s as if she appeared just long enough to record these sides and then vanished. But I’ll keep digging!

This version was also popular upon its original release.

The lyrics are credited to Irving Mills and Irving Gordon, the same pair who appeared on the labels for “Pyramid,” which didn’t seem to have a vocal version. Gordon is most famous for later writing the Nat King Cole hit Unforgettable, and I remember him making the rounds when Natalie Cole successfully revived the song in the 1990s.

A Sleeper Hit Waiting for Its Moment

As with some of the other songs from this period, Prelude to a Kiss didn’t get much traction at the time. But unlike those others, it eventually made a spectacular comeback and became something of a standard.

It hadn’t been played much up to that point, but Duke selected it for his 1945 Victor sessions revisiting several of his most popular songs:

It kind of sounds like it had been waiting for Ray Nance’s violin all this time!

Prelude Finds Its Second Life

Duke still didn’t feature the song much for the rest of the 1940s, but he began including it in concerts in the early 1950s and recorded it a few more times.

He cut a version for his 1954 Capitol album The Duke Plays Ellington, a trio date with bassist Wendell Marshall and drummer Butch Ballard:

Next came this 1956 recording that wasn’t issued until 1987:

I don’t know the circumstances of this session or why it remained unreleased for so long, but Johnny Hodges’ alto is fabulous as always.

A Standard at Last

The next version is from Duke’s 1958 Columbia album Ellington Indigos:

The early stereo sounds great on this extended arrangement, with another terrific solo from Johnny.

By this time, Prelude to a Kiss had become a popular standard, and Duke continued to feature it from that point on.

But it was quite a long prelude!

Sundays with Duke #25: Six Steps to the Pyramid

As we hang around 1938 with Duke Ellington, we come across another collaboration between Duke and his valve trombonist Juan Tizol - Pyramid.

It never became nearly as popular as Juan’s earlier composition Caravan, but it’s a moody, atmospheric piece, and the recordings it inspired make for a wonderfully twisty little journey.

Step 1: Tom-Toms and Hand Drums

Duke and the band first recorded “Pyramid” for Brunswick in June 1938:

The haunting pulse comes from Sonny Greer on tom‑toms and Duke playing a hand drum fashioned from a tambourine. There’s no piano from Duke on this one, and the instrumentation is unusual in another way: Harry Carney’s baritone sax is the only saxophone on the record!

It’s a sparse, hypnotic sound world, with Juan's valve trombone leading the way.

Step 2: Johnny's Small‑Group Detour

Just a couple of weeks later, at a Johnny Hodges small‑band session for Vocalion - the same date that produced Lost in Meditation - Pyramid took on a completely different character, with Duke back at the piano and Lawrence Brown on trombone rather than Juan Tizol:

Comparing the small‑unit versions with the “official” band takes is always a treat, and this one is no exception.

A Brief Pause for Label Intrigue

As usual, the songwriting credits give us something to chew on...

The Brunswick label lists Irving Mills as co‑writer with Duke and Juan - no surprise there.

But the Vocalion label lists Irving Gordon instead of Mills. Not sure what the story is, but the implication is that the tune has lyrics. If a vocal version was ever recorded, I haven’t come across it.

Step 3: Artie Shaw Picks It Up

Pyramid didn’t seem to get much traction at the time, but it resurfaced in late 1940 when Artie Shaw recorded it for Victor:

Nick Fatool - maybe the most underrated drummer of the era - drives the beat, with strong solos from Artie on clarinet and Billy Butterfield on trumpet. The larger Shaw band with strings gives it a bit of a Frenesi-era vibe to me.

What’s unusual is that this might be the only Ellington‑associated number Artie recorded back in the day. He tended to favor swing arrangements of show tunes and standards rather than jazz pieces by other composers. He did have an arrangement of Pyramid with his earlier band, but never made a studio recording of it.

The little sting to end this record reminds me of the sound of Artie’s Gramercy Five.

The Gramercy Six

Which brings us to the next version - a snappy stereo take by what seems to be an unofficial Artie Shaw spin‑off/tribute group, The Gramercy Six, recorded for Edison International in 1959:

Nick Fatool returns on drums, joined by bassist Jud Denaut and guitarist Al Hendrickson, both veterans of Shaw’s 1940 version, which is pretty cool! Rounding out the sextet are Shorty Sherock on trumpet, Al Sherman on harpsichord, and Eddie Rosa on clarinet.

It’s a lively, modernized spin.

Duke Returns to the Pyramid

Duke himself revisited “Pyramid” in 1962 for his Reprise album Afro‑Bossa:

That's a terrific version and it seems to have rekindled Duke’s interest in he tune, as he began performing it more frequently in concerts afterward.

Johnny Steps into the ’60s

Johnny Hodges picked the tune up again in the 1960s, teaming with with organist Wild Bill Davis for this version on the 1966 Verve album Blue Pyramid:

That one definitely sounds like 1966 - in the best way!

From tom‑toms to harpsichords, the six steps through the life of Pyramid each brings something distinctive to the table.

Do you have a favorite - or does it depend on the mood of the day?