Sundays with Duke #32: The Mellow Tone

We’re still parked in 1940 with Duke Ellington, and we’ve hit another classic: In a Mellotone.

Let’s spin the original Victor recording:

Johnny Hodges and Cootie Williams are in peak form — Cootie even slips in a sly quote from Never No Lament at the tail end of his solo — but it’s Jimmie Blanton’s bass that steals the spotlight. His lines practically glow.

From Mellotone to Mellow Tone

Duke kept the tune in the band’s book throughout the 1940s, but the song found a second life in the 1950s when producer Milt Gabler added lyrics and nudged the title toward the now-familiar In a Mellow Tone.

Milt had The Mills Brothers record it for Decca in 1955 with Sy Oliver arranging:

It’s a delight — how can you beat the Mills/Oliver combination?

Funny that it took fifteen years for someone to add lyrics — the melody practically chants “in a mellow tone” on its own.

Ella Steps In

Once lyrics existed, Ella Fitzgerald naturally grabbed the tune for her 1957 Duke Ellington Songbook album — one of my favorite playgrounds:

Ella stretches out beautifully here, weaving between the written lyrics and her trademark scat. And yes, Ben Webster is still along for the ride, adding that warm velvet to the edges.

Duke Revisits the Instrumental

Duke circled back to the tune in 1960 for his Columbia album Blues in Orbit, keeping it strictly instrumental:

By this point, the “Mellow Tone” title had fully overtaken the original “Mellotone” spelling — the mellow won.

Louis Joins the Party

Duke recorded another instrumental version in 1961 with Louis Armstrong on Recording Together for the First Time — another favorite playground:

It’s interesting that Louis doesn’t sing the lyrics — even though they existed by then — yet he scats on Cotton Tail, which didn’t have lyrics. Satchmo gonna Satchmo.

And just to keep us on our toes, the label lists the tune as In a Mellowtone!

Here's a link to Duke and Louis performing the song in 1961 on The Ed Sullivan Show:

It's great that so many Sullivan shows were preserved so we can enjoy seeing these wonderful artists!

Betty's Baby

As far as I can tell, Duke never recorded a version using Milt Gabler’s lyrics. But things get wonderfully twisty when we get to Betty Roché, whose specialty with the Ellington band featured a totally different set of lyrics.

Here’s a 1953 live recording of Betty singing the Baby, You and Me variant:

The announcer mentions the lyrics and title change at the beginning and says it's "soon to be released" at the end — but I can't figure out what release he's referring to!

As far as I can tell, Duke never cut a studio version of that variation, but Betty did — for Bethlehem in 1956:

And here’s the fun part: Bethlehem kept the title In a Mellow Tone and even credited Milt Gabler, despite the lyrics being completely different. I’m guessing Milt didn’t write both sets… but you know we love a little label intrigue!

Billy Brings the Moves

We close out with a wonderfully wacky take on the tune, as Billy May turns it into a cha‑cha for his 1960 Capitol album Cha Cha!:

Billy was well‑known for his sense of humor, and it absolutely shows here — the arrangement is playful, brassy, and just a little mischievous. And what a good sport he was to pose for the album cover in that get‑up. The man committed to the bit!

Whatever the Title…

Whether it’s Mellotone, Mellow Tone, Mellowtone or even Baby, You and Me, one thing stays constant — the tone is mellow!

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!

Tuesday Tidbit: The Singers Join the Caravan

Yesterday we roamed through a whole caravan of instrumental versions of the Juan Tizol/Duke Ellington classic Caravan. There are so many instrumental takes that you can almost forget the tune even has lyrics. So today, we let the singers climb aboard.

Mills Magic in the Mirage

We’ll warm up with a “vocal” version that doesn’t actually feature the lyrics at all — the fabulous Mills Brothers and their patented instrument imitations on this 1938 Decca recording:

They often imitated instruments on their 1930s records, but this is the only one I know where they skip sung lyrics entirely. Pretty cool!

Also cool: this 1942 Soundie of the Mills performing Caravan:

I’m not sure why they’re dressed like that, but they sound terrific — and the dancing is snazzy.

Valaida's Vocal Venture

The first version to actually feature the lyrics came from Valaida, the singer/trumpeter, on this Swedish recording from 1939:

I’m not sure whether it was released in the U.S. at the time. Valaida Snow was American, but like several other Black artists of the era, she found greater popularity in Europe.

Mr. B Meets the Mirage

We have to jump all the way to 1949 for the first version with lyrics on a major American label. That honor goes to Billy Eckstine on MGM:

Billy’s voice fits the mysterious mood of the song beautifully, and Hugo Winterhalter’s accompaniment wraps around him like desert night air.

Nat Navigates the Night Sky

Next stop: 1957, for something of an “authorized” version from Nat King Cole. I say that because Juan Tizol himself brings his valve trombone to the session for Nat’s Capitol album After Midnight:

It sounds wonderful — Nat’s trio is joined by Jack Costanza on bongos to deepen the atmosphere. An awesome album, by the way!

Even better, Nat performed the tune on his TV show with Juan right there beside him:

So cool to see them in action!

Bobby Brings the Breeze

We skip ahead to 1960 for one more vocal Caravan, this time from Bobby Darin on his Atco album This Is Darin:

You just can’t beat Bobby singing a standard. That's an awesome album as well!

And here’s Bobby again, performing the same arrangement on TV in 1973:

He looks and sounds so good that it’s hard to believe he’d be gone within a year.

So, the vocal caravan may not be as long as the instrumental one, but there are some real gems in these dunes!

Warehouse Whispers

One last wandering thought as our caravan heads home: I’ve always been curious about Irving Mills’ credits on these songs. Did he actually ever make any contributions? He’s listed as the sole lyricist for Caravan, but did he actually write them? Did he hire a ghostwriter? Did a passing sandstorm blow the paperwork into his lap? And while Duke shares composer credit with Juan Tizol, most folks agree Juan brought in that hypnotic melody, with Duke adding his usual Ellington sparkle. The publishing world back then was its own little oasis of mysteries!

Drop a comment with your thoughts.

Monday Side‑Session: Eleven More Strolls

Following along with Duke Ellington’s classic composition Solitude, here are eleven versions by eleven different artists from the 1930s. So let’s get strolling!

Eddie DeLange’s lyrics to Duke’s tune were clearly well‑received — most of the 1930s covers were vocal versions, and they came fast.

Mills Thrills and Red Riffs

We start off hot on the heels of Duke’s original with The Mills Blue Rhythm Band, featuring vocalist Chuck Richards:

As you might guess from the group’s name, the band was managed by the ubiquitous Irving Mills. It was led by Lucky Millinder and included top musicians like trumpeter Henry “Red” Allen, who contributes a tasty solo on this side.

Lunceford’s Lonesome Lilt

Another 1934 vocal version came from Jimmie Lunceford, with trombonist Henry Wells handling the vocal:

I say it all the time, but you really can’t go wrong with the Lunceford band covering an Ellington tune!

Goodman Goes Generic (But Great)

Moving into 1935, we get a couple of intriguing instrumental takes. First up is a budget‑label release by The Modernists — but don’t let the generic name fool you. It’s pre‑fame Benny Goodman and his band:

A really nice version from not too long before BG would become the King of Swing.

A Stone's Throw Across the Pond

Next we hop over to the U.K. for a snappy version by British bandleader Lew Stone on Regal Zonophone:

I really like the guitar work on this one — a lovely touch.

Bowlly's Bow

The most popular British bandleader of the era, Ray Noble, had already relocated to the States by 1935, fronting a great band assembled by Glenn Miller. Ray brought vocalist Al Bowlly with him, and Al sings Solitude on this radio aircheck:

Ray never made a studio recording of the tune, so we’re extra lucky to have this wonderful version.

Dorseys’ Deluxe Disc Detour

Tommy and Jimmy are on either side of canary Kay, Glenn Miller is to Jimmy's left and Ray McKinley is kneeling in front of Glenn.

Meanwhile, Tommy and Jimmy Dorsey were still co‑leading The Dorsey Brothers Orchestra when they cut their own outstanding version on a 12‑inch Decca disc with vocalist Kay Weber:

Not sure what prompted Decca to go with a 12‑inch pressing instead of the usual 10‑inch, but we’re glad they did. And perhaps Glenn Miller arranged it!

Prima Turns Up the Heat

For one more 1935 entry, we check in with Louis Prima and His New Orleans Gang, whose Brunswick recording gets the tune swinging:

Louis always sounds like he’s having a blast!

Satchmo’s Solitary Spotlight

The other singing trumpeter named Louis — Mr. Armstrong — took his turn for Decca in 1936:

Great to hear Satchmo’s solo version, recorded 25 years before his later take with Duke.

The Mills Brothers Multiply the Mood

Decca wasn’t shy about doubling (or tripling or quadrupling) up on a good thing, so in addition to Lunceford, Armstrong and the Dorseys, they also had The Mills Brothers record Solitude in 1936:

Another terrific example of the early Mills sound with John Jr. on guitar and bass vocals.

The Club Stays Hot

We head back to Europe for a 1937 instrumental version by The Quintette of the Hot Club of France on British HMV:

That’s the usual suspects — Django Reinhardt on guitar and Stéphane Grappelly on violin.

Adelaide Abroad

And we stay overseas for one more, a 1939 British Decca recording by Adelaide Hall, whom we last heard way back on Duke’s 1927 “Creole Love Call”:

Let’s spin Adelaide’s Solitude:

A nice version, and the organ accompaniment is by Fela Sowande, a pioneering Nigerian musician — a very cool detail.

There are a zillion other versions of “Solitude,” but these eleven sides from the 1930s show how the tune began its solitudinous stroll toward becoming a standard.

Monday Side-Session; More Things That Swing

We follow up on Duke Ellington’s classic It Don’t Mean a Thing (If It Ain’t Got That Swing) with a handful of covers and remakes - and there have been a zillion.

We start right in 1932, hot on the heels of Duke’s original, with three versions from the same year...

🎙️ The Mills Brothers (Brunswick, 1932)

I really dig those early‑’30s Mills Brothers records where they imitate musical instruments and John Jr. handles the bass notes and the guitar. They make the whole thing feel like a pocket orchestra.

🎶 The Boswell Sisters (Brunswick, 1932)

The Boswell Sisters’ records just don’t sound like anything else — they’re their own little universe of harmony, rhythm, and mischief.

With Duke’s original, that makes three Brunswick versions in 1932. Not bad for a tune that had barely cooled on the bandstand!

RWK was on the cover of Time in 1927 at age 19!

🎺 Roger Wolfe Kahn & His Orchestra (Columbia, 1932)

A full‑blown early‑’30s dance‑band treatment with a croony vocal trio with ocarinas - and, if the discographers are right, a young Artie Shaw on clarinet! It’s fascinating to hear the song refracted through that pre‑Swing‑Era lens.

As with many hit songs of the 1930s, after the initial flurry of recordings, the tune went quiet for a while. Labels didn’t really remake older songs yet. But by 1939, a couple of intriguing revivals pop up...

🥁 Lionel Hampton (Victor, 1939)

Hamp was always digging up older tunes for the pickup groups he led on his Victor side-hustle while moonlighting from the Benny Goodman band. He always sounds great - pure energy.

🤠 The Tune Wranglers (Bluebird, 1939)

A Duke Ellington song played by a 1930s cowboy band? You know I'm in! It’s a blast, but vocalist Red Brown sings, “If you haven’t got that swing.” Wouldn’t you expect a cowboy to say ain’t?

Jumping ahead to the 1950s, we get three more gems...

🎤 Al Hibbler (Chess, 1951)

Former Ellington vocalist Al Hibbler sounds terrific here, and that Tricky Sam Nanton‑inspired trombone solo - maybe Matthew Gee - is a knockout!

🎙️ Mel Tormé (Coral, 1954)

This tune sits right in Mel’s wheelhouse. His version also features some Tricky Sam‑style trombone, likely courtesy of big‑band veteran Murray McEachern.

🌙 June Christy (Capitol, 1958)

The Misty Miss Christy included this on her album June’s Got Rhythm, and yes - June’s got rhythm all right!

This is really just the tip of the iceberg when it comes to versions of It Don’t Mean a Thing (If It Ain’t Got That Swing), but these are some of my favorites - and they all mean something.

Monday Side-Session: The Many Moods of Indigo

Yesterday, we basked in the original instrumental glory of Duke Ellington's Mood Indigo. Today, we’re flipping the script to listen to how the vocalists took over!

The song acquired lyrics almost immediately. They were ostensibly written by Irving Mills, Duke’s manager, though I always wonder how much actual lyric‑writing he did. My hunch is that he sometimes subcontracted the words while still sharing composing credit with Duke (and in this case, Barney Bigard).

We have a bunch of vocal versions, so let's get started!

The Early Pioneers (1931–1933)

The first vocal version appeared in 1931, when Lee Morse and her Blue Grass Boys recorded it for Columbia:

That's great! And of course, “Blue Grass” didn’t mean “Bluegrass” in 1931 - no fiddles or banjos!

Next came Gene Austin (of “My Blue Heaven” fame), who recorded the song for Victor:

Is that perhaps the first time a Duke Ellington number was recorded as an out‑and‑out pop song?

Also in 1932, The Three Keys cut “Mood Indigo” for Columbia:

The label notes that “Bon Bon” is one of the group members - that’s the great George Tunnell, later featured with Jan Savitt’s band, and an early example of a Black singer starring with a white band.

It’s no surprise that the jazz‑leaning Boswell Sisters got their hands on an Ellington tune, and indeed they recorded “Mood Indigo” for Brunswick in 1933:

The Bozzies always sound great and how can you beat having the Dorsey Brothers for backup?

The Duke & The Divas (1940–1941)

As we move to 1940, we come to Duke Ellington himself, who recorded a vocal version with Ivie Anderson for Columbia:

I believe that’s Duke’s first session with the brilliant Jimmy Blanton on bass and Ben Webster on tenor sax. We’ll be hearing plenty from the Blanton/Webster band as we go forward.

Moving to 1941, we have a terrific version by Dinah Shore, from a Victor album tied to the radio show NBC’s Chamber Music Society of Lower Basin Street.

This was early in Dinah's long and successful career, but she already had the goods!

The Mid-Century Moderns (1950s)

Now we hit the 1950s with The Four Blazes on the small United label in 1952:

So nice and smooth!

Next comes another independent label entry: The Norman Petty Trio on Nor‑Va‑Jak in 1954.

RCA Victor’s subsidiary Vik picked up that recording for national distribution, and it became a hit. Norman Petty is, of course, better known as a producer - especially for Buddy Holly and the Crickets.

Also in 1954, The Modernaires teamed with fellow big band vet Georgie Auld for this version on Coral Records:

The Mods’ doo‑wops and Georgie’s tenor sax give it a distinctly mid‑’50s flavor!

Also in 1954, Billy Eckstine (himself a big band veteran) recorded the song for MGM:

It fits Mr. B like a glove!

Then perhaps the most famous big‑band alumnus of all, Frank Sinatra, included a terrific version on his 1955 Capitol album In the Wee Small Hours:

Frank and arranger/conductor Nelson Riddle are an unbeatable combination!

The Mills Brothers finally got around to "Mood Indigo" in 1958, recording it for their album Mmmm... on Dot Records:

That really does make you go Mmmm...

Next up in 1959 is the incomparable Nat "King" Cole. who included the song on his Welcome to the Club album for Capitol:

Just great! I understand that Dave Cavanaugh is conducting the Count Basie band there!

Also in 1959, Perry Como included the song in his RCA Victor album Como Swings:

I know I've said it before, but Perry was a sneaky-hip square!

Another long-time popular singing star, Doris Day, included the tune on her 1960 album What Every Girl Should Know for Columbia:

I think Doris is underrated as a vocalist these days, since she’s best remembered as a movie star - but at least she’s remembered.

We've really only scratched the surface of this song's life. Do you prefer the early, torchy 1930s takes, or the "Wee Small Hours" sophistication of the 1950s?