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?

Monday Side-Session: A Date with Johnny

Since we heard a couple of sides yesterday featuring Johnny Hodges leading a small group of Ellingtonians, I thought it’d be fun to make today’s Monday Side‑Session a literal session — the four titles recorded at a Johnny Hodges date.

This particular outing took place on May 14, 1937, in New York City. In addition to Johnny on alto, the lineup is a dreamlike slice of the Ellington reed world: Barney Bigard (clarinet and tenor), Otto Hardwick (alto), and Harry Carney (baritone). Cootie Williams and his trumpet are all alone in the brass section and the rhythm section is pure Ellington: Duke at the piano, Fred Guy on guitar, Hayes Alvis on bass, and Sonny Greer on drums.

There’s also a surprise guest — a young Buddy Clark, not yet a star and not even credited on the label. No idea how he wandered into this date, but he fits like he was born in the bandroom.

The group recorded four songs (with multiple takes), and Buddy sings on the first three.

Let’s start spinning...

Foolin’ Myself

A lovely, slow, unhurried groove — the kind of tempo where Hodges can stretch out and the reeds breathe in unison.

A Sailboat in the Moonlight

This really shouldn’t work — a Guy Lombardo hit reframed by Ellingtonians — but it’s awesome! No surprise it became the most popular side from the session.

You’ll Never Go to Heaven (If You Break My Heart)

A neat structural twist here: Buddy starts right away, vocalizing over the introduction, and then disappears entirely after the vocal chorus. Most 1937 band records don’t front‑load the vocal like that, so this one stands out.

Peckin’

Buddy sits out, but we get a vocal from Cootie Williams and the band. The feel is a little odd — almost like the floor tilts under the beat — and the track wasn’t issued until the late 1960s. Strange, but intriguing.

We had heard Ozzie Nelson's version of Peckin' back here and I stand by my statement that the Ben Pollack/Harry James tune works better as an instrumental!

Release Shuffle

Foolin’ Myself and You’ll Never Go to Heaven were paired on a 78, which left A Sailboat in the Moonlight without a partner since Peckin’ stayed in the vault.

So what wound up on the flipside of Sailboat?

Manhattan Jam by Edgar Hayes

A solid, swinging companion.

Bonus Spin: Lombardo’s Original Hit

To round things out, here’s Guy Lombardo’s Victor recording of “A Sailboat in the Moonlight,” with brother Carmen Lombardo — the song’s co‑writer — on the vocal.

Always fun to hear how differently a tune can live depending on who’s steering the boat!

Warehouse Whispers

Irving Mills kept his release options wide open, so these sides appeared on both Variety and Vocalion. And it’s interesting that Johnny’s discs were issued as Johnny Hodges and His Orchestra, in contrast to the more colorful branding of his colleagues: Cootie Williams and His Rug Cutters, Barney Bigard and His Jazzopaters, Rex Stewart and His 52nd Street Stompers. Mills loved a good sub‑label ecosystem — and a wacky band name even more!

Sundays with Duke #24 – Two Lost and Found

As we continue with Duke Ellington in 1938, we land on a pair of songs written and recorded around the same time as I Let a Song Go Out of My Heart, yet neither one found the same level of popularity. Both had promising starts, both slipped into obscurity, and both were unexpectedly revived in the 1950s — little musical time capsules waiting to be reopened.

A Cotton Club Companion

The first tune, If You Were in My Place (What Would You Do), was featured in the same Cotton Club Parade as I Let a Song Go Out of My Heart. Duke recorded it for Brunswick with Ivie Anderson on the vocal:

Johnny Hodges also cut the tune at the same small‑group session that produced his version of I Let a Song Go Out of My Heart, again featuring Mary McHugh:

I’d probably give the nod to Johnny’s small‑group take - the slower, steadier tempo feels more natural for the song’s mood.

The tune didn’t really go anywhere, and Duke never returned to it in the studio… except for one curious exception. For reasons lost to time, it resurfaced on the 1956 Blue Rose album on Columbia, with Rosemary Clooney overdubbing her vocal onto a backing track recorded by Duke and the band:

Not a bad song by any means, but this seems to be the end of the trail for it in Duke’s discography.

A Song With Two Names and a Few Lives

The second tune, Lost in Meditation, has a more tangled path.

This collaboration between Juan Tizol and Duke began life as an instrumental titled Have a Heart, recorded by Cootie Williams and his Rug Cutters for Vocalion in January 1938:

The lineup is a dream: Cootie on trumpet, Tricky Sam Nanton on trombone, and a sax section of Johnny Hodges, Barney Bigard, and Harry Carney, with usual suspects Duke, Fred Guy, Billy Taylor and Sonny Greer in the rhythm section.

Pretty cool record!

The following month, Duke and the full band recorded the same tune for Brunswick - slower, more reflective, and now titled Lost in Meditation.

I’m presuming the title change happened when the song acquired lyrics, although the earlier Have a Heart label already lists Louis Singer and Irving Mills as co‑writers. A little mystery there!

Although Duke’s studio version was instrumental, he did feature a vocal arrangement with Ivie Anderson on radio broadcasts, and we’re lucky to have an aircheck:

A proper studio vocal finally arrived in June 1938 at another Johnny Hodges small‑group session, again with Mary McHugh:

The personnel mirrors Cootie’s Rug Cutters lineup, but with Lawrence Brown subbing for Tricky Sam on trombone.

Just as with If You Were in My Place, Duke didn’t revisit Lost in Meditation again until the mid‑1950s, when it was picked up by a guest female vocalist.

This time it was Ella Fitzgerald, who recorded it with Duke and the band in 1957 for her Duke Ellington Songbook album on Verve:

It’s a terrific version, but the song seems to have disappeared from Duke’s repertoire after that.

Why These Two? Why Then?

I do wonder what led to Rosie and Ella reviving these two 1938 songs after they’d been “lost” for more than a decade.

We’ll probably never know - label logic, producer whims, personal taste, or just the right tune at the right moment.

But I’m glad they were found!

What's your take? Should either have become at least a semi-standard?

Sunday with Duke #23: A Song from the Heart

Moving into 1938 with Duke Ellington, we land on another of his classic compositions that became a standard in the Great American Songbook: I Let a Song Go Out of My Heart.

Duke's First Word

Ellington first recorded the tune as an instrumental on March 3, 1938 for Brunswick, and it quickly became a major hit - one of those three‑minute gems where the band’s personality shines through every bar.

Let’s spin it:

That’s just a tremendous record. The interplay between Johnny Hodges on alto sax and Harry Carney on baritone is pure Ellington magic - two voices that know exactly how to lean into and away from each other. Lawrence Brown (trombone) and Barney Bigard (clarinet) also turn in beautifully shaped solos.

The song was written for The 4th Cotton Club Parade, and lyrics by Henry Nemo followed almost immediately.

Johnny Floats It In

Later that same month - March 28, 1938 - Duke participated in a vocal recording of the tune with a Johnny Hodges–fronted small group featuring vocalist Mary McHugh, issued on Vocalion.

Let’s hear that one:

This little unit is a delight: Otto Hardwick and Harry Carney join Johnny in the sax section, with Lawrence Brown and Cootie Williams rounding out the brass. The rhythm section is classic Ellington - Duke on piano, Fred Guy on guitar, Billy Taylor on bass, and Sonny Greer on drums.

I don’t know much about Mary McHugh beyond her handful of appearances with the Hodges small groups, but I like her! She brings a light, unaffected charm to the lyric.

And as for Johnny himself - these 1938 sides show him at his most effortless. There’s something about his playing that just floats: ethereal, singing, and yet delivered with that famously dour, deadpan expression. Truly one of a kind!

Joya "Crushes" It

As with many of Duke’s popular songs, I Let a Song Go Out of My Heart became a staple of his repertoire, though he didn’t revisit it often in the studio - perhaps because it leans more toward the pop side of his songbook than the jazz side.

He did return to it in 1945, when he recorded new versions of earlier hits for Victor. This one features a vocal by my retro‑crush Joya Sherrill:

It’s great to have this full band vocal version alongside the original instrumental - a reminder of how adaptable the tune is.

Rosie in Full Bloom

Jumping ahead to 1956, Duke recorded a backing track for Rosemary Clooney, who overdubbed her vocal for the Blue Rose album on Columbia.

We previously heard Rosie’s take on Sophisticated Lady from the same album, and this one has that same mix of poise and warmth.

Taking it to the Pops

And speaking of Sophisticated Lady, we also heard Duke revisit it on his 1966 RCA album The Duke at Tanglewood with Arthur Fiedler and the Boston Pops. That album includes a lovely instrumental version of I Let a Song Go Out of My Heart, so let’s spin that too:

A graceful, late‑career reading - polished, affectionate, and unmistakably Duke!

So there you have it: a handful of wonderful versions of the song Duke let out of his heart.

Threaded Thursday – Johnny’s Flame

Today we pick up the word‑association thread and move from My Old Flame to Johnny Hodges’ You Blew Out the Flame (In My Heart) from 1951.

Hodges on His Own - and on Fire

Johnny was leading his own band during a break from Duke Ellington’s orchestra when he recorded the tune for Mercury:

It sounds terrific - but with Johnny on alto plus Ellingtonians Al Sears (tenor), Lawrence Brown (trombone), and Sonny Greer (drums), how could it not?

The tune actually began life as Rabbit’s Blues - “Rabbit” being one of Hodges’ nicknames - but the publisher quickly realized it had potential. Add lyrics, and suddenly it became You Blew Out the Flame (In My Heart).

This is one of those lyrically retrofitted pieces I can’t imagine without lyrics, because I knew the vocal version for years before I ever learned the backstory.

Ray and Tommy Light the Fuse

The version I always knew was Ray Anthony’s Capitol recording featuring vocalist Tommy Mercer:

I’m a big fan of the Anthony band and its sleek postwar sound, and Tommy Mercer is probably my favorite male band singer to establish himself after WWII.

Tex Steps Out

Ray Anthony had played trumpet with Glenn Miller’s band, but the star of the Miller outfit was tenor saxist/vocalist Tex Beneke, who took over the Miller band after the war. By 1951 he was leading his own group when he cut his version for MGM:

That one has a fresh, modern feel. Tex reportedly split with the Miller estate because he didn’t want to be confined to the Miller style - and you can hear that independence here.

TD Keeps It Swinging

Veteran bandleader Tommy Dorsey also took a crack at the tune for Decca:

This shows how TD could update his band’s sound to keep up with the times while still keeping that swingy undercurrent. Canary Frances Irvin definitely sounds early‑1950s to me.

Harrys Fans the Embers

Meanwhile, Harry James, still recording for Columbia in 1951, added his own version with the Skylarks vocal group:

It’s nice that so many bands were still sounding great in 1951 - but the times were changing, and the singers were increasingly the stars.

A Kiwi Flame Flickers in Auckland

Before we leave 1951, we have one more version of You Blew Out the Flame, and for this one we travel down under. Here’s New Zealand pianist Don Grant and his Rhythm with vocalist Esme Stephens on the Zodiac label:

How cool is it that the tune found its way to Auckland? Esme has a lovely style - but is she a kiwi rather than a canary? Do kiwis actually sing?

Full Circle: Johnny Rekindles the Flame

Now let’s sneak ahead to 1962, where we come full circle with this lush, late‑period update from Johnny Hodges on his Verve album The Eleventh Hour:

I don’t know about you, but Johnny’s alto sax will always keep the flame in my heart!