Sundays with Duke #43: We Didn't Know

📀 July ’42: Victor’s Last Pre‑Ban Spin

Still in 1942 with Duke Ellington, we land on July 28 for his last Victor session before the recording ban started.

That session yielded the lovely Ellington composition Sentimental Lady.

Let’s spin it:

Another showcase for the gorgeous alto of Johnny Hodges. Rex Stewart adds a nice little cornet solo as well.

📈 Hit Parade Surprise

Due to the recording ban, Victor delayed the release of the record until August 1943, which was a smart move — it topped the (then‑titled) Harlem Hit Parade!

✏️ We Didn't Know This Title

As with many popular melodies written by Duke, this one acquired lyrics (by Don George) and became the pop standard I Didn’t Know About You.

I’ve always thought it interesting that the title was changed — Sentimental Lady feels like such a quintessential Ellington name.

🎙️ 1944: Joya Steps to the Mic

Once Victor settled with the musicians’ union in late 1944, Duke and the band recorded the new vocal version on their first session.

Let’s spin that record featuring Joya Sherrill:

A lovely record — from Joya’s debut recording session with the band — and yes, I’ll admit it again: I have a retro‑crush on Joya!

Duke’s band didn’t undergo as many personnel changes as most bands during the recording gap, but Ben Webster, Rex Stewart, Juan Tizol and Ivie Anderson had all left, with Joya, Cat Anderson, Taft Jordan and Al Sears among the new members.

📻 Lena & Duke for the Troops

An interesting version of I Didn’t Know About You comes from a January 1945 episode of the AFRS radio series Jubilee.

Host Ernie “Bubbles” Whitman will explain:

Lena Horne + Duke for the troops — that’s the kind of morale boost you can hear in the air!

But did Ernie call Lena Butterball? Did that used to be a compliment?

🎤 Ella Gives It Wings

Duke continued to feature the song for a while, but seems to have moved away from it after Joya left the band.

But it got a huge boost in 1957 when Ella Fitzgerald joined Duke and the band for this cut from the Duke Ellington Songbook on Verve:

Those sessions are truly a treasure. And how wonderful to hear Johnny’s alto kick off the track!

🎼 Back to Instrumental Roots

Moving to 1959, Duke brought the tune back to its instrumental roots for this version from the sessions for the Columbia album Blues in Orbit:

This was unreleased at the time, but later showed up as a bonus track in the 1980s. Good thing — it’s a wonderful reunion for Johnny and the melody.

🌹 A Lady Revealed

If we didn’t know about the sentimental lady, we sure do now — Joya, Lena and Ella are all very convincing!

Monday Side‑Session: Hoppin’ to the River

You may have noticed from the label above that the V‑Disc featuring Duke Ellington’s Main Stem leads off with another Ellington number — Hop, Skip, Jump.

Jumpin' with Johnny

That tune was recorded in November 1943. Let’s spin it:

A nice mid‑tempo feature for Johnny Hodges’ alto sax, the band played it on radio and in live appearances, but never got the chance to record a studio version for Victor because of the recording ban.

Same Tune, New Locality

Things take an interesting turn in 1946, when Duke finally gets the chance to record the tune — but now it has a new name: Rockabye River.

As far as I can tell, this recording was only issued in the U.S. as the lead side in the Victor album Esquire’s All American Hot Jazz Volume 2 in 1947. Let’s spin it:

The tune gets a bit of a makeover, but it still functions as a showcase for Johnny — who gets label credit — while adding some wonderfully brassy growl trumpet from Cat Anderson.

Another Day, Another Arrangement

But wait, there’s more: Duke and the band recorded another version of the tune — still under the Rockabye River title — for the Capitol Transcription service just a couple of days after the 1946 Victor session.

Let’s spin that one:

A shorter arrangement, still centered on Johnny’s alto, with perhaps even more of Cat’s growl trumpet cutting through.

The tune seems to fade into the sunset by 1948 after a handful of additional live performances, but we’re left with these three distinct recordings — each one a slightly different angle on the same Ellington gem.

Warehouse Whispers

I’m presuming Victor didn’t release Rockabye River in 1946 for whatever internal reason, but eventually decided it would be a strong selling point to include a “new” Ellington side in the Esquire set.

It also shows the embarrassment of riches in the Ellington catalog. A recording that would be a highlight for virtually any other band was just another day at the office for Duke!

Sundays with Duke #42: Mainly Riffin’

 

We’re still in 1942 as we land on another classic Duke Ellington recording — Main Stem.

The "Main" Event

Let’s spin Duke’s Victor recording from June 26, 1942:

That’s quite a parade of soloists: Rex Stewart, Johnny Hodges, Ray Nance, Barney Bigard, Tricky Sam Nanton, Ben Webster, and Lawrence Brown — all riding tight, deceptively simple riffs. It’s one of those sides where the band’s internal chemistry feels almost unfair.

This particular record had an interesting journey. It was cut close to the deadline imposed by the looming musicians’ strike, and Victor was already stockpiling material to ration during the recording freeze. Main Stem wasn’t released until 1944, but when it finally saw daylight, it became a huge hit!

V-Disc Special

In the meantime, Duke recorded a separate version in 1943 for V‑Disc:

Another terrific performance — this time with Jimmie Hamilton taking the clarinet solo, as Barney Bigard had left the band shortly after the earlier Victor session.

Classic, But Not a Standard

Duke and the band kept Main Stem in regular rotation throughout the 1940s, but other bands didn’t pick up on it. The recording ban certainly didn’t help, but more likely, it’s because this is a riff piece built to showcase soloists — and what other band could possibly roll out a lineup like this? Spoiler: none.

Rex Riffs Abroad

We do have one Ellington‑adjacent version, though: a 1948 Danish recording featuring Rex Stewart backed by French pianist Claude Bolling:

That’s pretty cool — a little continental detour with Rex still sounding unmistakably Rex.

A Return Visit

I think the only time Duke returned to Main Stem in the studio was in 1960 for his Piano in the Background album on Columbia:

It’s like meeting an old friend you haven’t seen in years — the same, but different, familiar yet reframed.

Warehouse Whispers

I feel Main Stem was unintentionally helped by the recording ban. The delayed release reduced competition, and we ended up with a separate V‑Disc version.

You just never know!

Sunday with Duke #41: Jam Session

We stay with Duke Ellington in the Victor studio on January 21, at the same session that produced Perdido, for another classic: The "C" Jam Blues.

Let’s spin that recording:

What a blast! The deceptively simple framework gives each soloist room to shine — Ray Nance on violin, Rex Stewart on cornet, Ben Webster on tenor sax, Tricky Sam Nanton on trombone, and Barney Bigard on clarinet. It’s one of those sides where the band’s personality comes through in every chorus.

Interestingly, the tune had already been recorded the previous September as “C” Blues, by a small unit under Barney Bigard’s name.

Let’s spin that Bluebird side:

Same melody, obviously, but a different feel. This lineup — Barney on clarinet, Juan Tizol on valve trombone, Harry Carney on baritone sax, and Ray Nance this time on trumpet — is the only horn section, with Duke on piano, Sonny Greer on drums, and Jimmy Blanton on bass.

Hearing Blanton on this side reminds you just how much was lost when he left the band between this and the Victor recording, and, soon after, passed away. His presence changes the whole texture.

Things take another interesting turn with the Soundie titled Jam Session, in which Duke and the guys play what we now know as The C Jam Blues. The twist? It was filmed in late December 1941 — a few weeks before the Victor session.

Let’s watch:

I love that we have this visual record of Duke and the soloists doing their thing. Watching Tricky Sam work that plunger mute is a treat, and Sonny Greer gets a drum solo that doesn’t appear on the record — he looks like he’s having the time of his life.

A fun little journey to a classic record!

Warehouse Whispers

Just between us, as much fun as the jam session seemed to be, I absolutely don’t blame Duke for slipping away to join those three lovely distractions!

Sundays with Duke #39: Billy’s Bridge

We stay in 1941 with Duke Ellington for one more session — this one giving us another classic from Billy Strayhorn: Chelsea Bridge.

The First Crossing

Let’s spin the Victor disc recorded in December 1941:

A lovely record, with Ben Webster’s tenor and Juan Tizol’s valve trombone floating through the mist.

In addition to composing and arranging the number, Billy plays piano and directs the band — a clear sign of how much trust Duke already placed in him.

The Lost Bass Line

Interestingly, the band had recorded an earlier version for the Standard Transcription service the previous January, with Duke at the piano:

What really jumps out here are the delightful bass passages from Jimmie Blanton.

It’s not clear why Duke waited almost a year to make a commercial recording — a rejected version was attempted in September — but by the time he did, Blanton had contracted tuberculosis and left the band shortly before the December session. Jimmie passed away the next July at just 23 years old — a heartbreaking loss for the music world.

Billy’s revised arrangement for the Victor recording has him playing piano in place of the bass solos, rather than giving them to new bassist Junior Raglin.

A Tune Ahead of Its Time

Chelsea Bridge was something of a slow burner — not a big splash at first, perhaps because listeners didn’t quite know what to make of its dreamy harmonic world. But it eventually became a standard and has been frequently recorded.

Bothwell's Signature Sound

The earliest cover seems to be alto saxist Johnny Bothwell’s 1945 recording for Signature:

Bothwell played a lovely alto — clearly influenced by Johnny Hodges — and his “Swingtet” for this session includes Harry Carney and Ray Nance!

LP Era Bloom — 1950s

Like so many slow‑burning standards we've visited, Chelsea Bridge blossomed in the LP era. Let's cross the bridge a few times with some highlights...

Big Ben Brings It

Ben Webster revisited it with this string-laden take from his 1954 Norgran album Music with Feeling:

Lots of feeling indeed — Ben’s tenor sound is pure velvet.

Marian's Magical Mood

Then in 1956, pianist Marian McPartland included it on her Capitol album After Dark:

Betty Glamann’s harp gives this one a celestial shimmer.

Pre-Peanuts Piano

Also from 1956 is this track from pianist Vince Guaraldi’s debut Fantasy album:

Vince is best remembered for his brilliant scores for the Peanuts TV specials, so it’s fun catching him with his trio a decade earlier.

Ella Strolls Across with Ben

Things always get intriguing when Ella Fitzgerald visits the Ellington songbook. She offers some lovely vocalese on this 1957 cut from her Verve sessions, with Billy sitting in on piano and Duke’s band behind her:

Nice to have Ben Webster back in the house for this one!

The Freshmen Go Latin

The vocal angle gets even more interesting in 1958, when The Four Freshmen recorded Chelsea Bridge with lyrics for their Capitol album Voices in Latin:

Apparently the lyrics were written by future Freshman Bill Comstock, who was a friend of current Freshman Ken Albers, specifically for this album. But since the lyrics weren't authorized by Billy Strayhorn or his publisher, only Billy got songwriter credit on the label.

I’m not sure why they went through all that trouble to include the non-Latin Chelsea Bridge on this album alongside Latin standards like Brazil and Frenesi, but, hey, it works!

Cat's Crossing

Back to instrumentals, Cat Anderson cut this very intriguing version for his 1959 album Ellingtonia on the Wynne label:

Ray Nance's violin lines adds a nice texture to the arrangement and Cat shows he didn't have to hit those stratospheric trumpet notes all the time!

A Peaceful Return

Billy brings the song back to its roots on his 1963 United Artists album The Peaceful Side:

I think I say this every time we visit that album, but it really is peaceful!

Duke's Island Crossing

We close in 1965 with Duke returning to the tune for his Reprise album Concert in the Virgin Islands:

Lovely as ever with Paul Gonsalves' gorgeous tenor sax!

That’s about 25 years of crossing Billy’s bridge — and it never gets old. Thanks for walking along with me!

Warehouse Whispers

There are a couple of different stories about where Billy Strayhorn found the title Chelsea Bridge. It seems certain that he was inspired by James McNeill Whistler’s painting Nocturne: Blue and Gold – Old Battersea Bridge.

One story says he mistakenly thought it depicted Chelsea Bridge.

Another says he knew it was Battersea Bridge but felt Chelsea Bridge simply sounded better for a song.

Billy was pretty smart — I vote for story number two.

Whistler's mother was unavailable for comment!

Sundays with Duke #38: Everyone’s Jumping

Last Sunday, while we were digging into Duke Ellington’s I Got It Bad (And That Ain’t Good), I mentioned that the tune first appeared in Duke’s 1941 musical revue Jump for Joy. So this week, let’s jump straight to the title song itself.

Herb's Hurdle

Duke and the band recorded Jump for Joy for Victor in July 1941, with Herb Jeffries handling the vocal:

It really is joyous. Herb sounds terrific, but for me, Tricky Sam Nanton quietly steals the spotlight — his trombone practically sings the lyrics. It’s one of those moments where the Ellington band blurs the line between voice and instrument.

Ivie's Impetus

I’d known Herb’s version for years before stumbling across an alternate take from the same session on a later compilation. When I first heard it, I thought, “Hmmm… something’s a little different.” Then after Tricky Sam’s solo, the arrangement shifts — and suddenly Ivie Anderson comes in instead of Herb Jeffries.

It’s such a treat to hear the band try the tune with each vocalist. Herb’s take will always feel like the “official” one to me, but Ivie brings her own sparkle.

Ray's Romp

Duke kept Jump for Joy active in the band’s book, and after Herb left, it became a Ray Nance specialty. The band cut this version for Capitol Transcriptions in 1947, with Ray on the vocal:

This one sticks close to the original arrangement, with Tyree Glenn stepping into the trombone role. Tyree had taken over after Tricky Sam’s passing the year before — and while Tyree was a fine player, no one could truly replace Tricky Sam’s voice‑like magic.

Jimmy's Jump

Ray continued singing the tune for years, but let’s close with something different: an intriguing small‑group instrumental from 1956 featuring Jimmy Hamilton on clarinet:

This unreleased‑at‑the‑time performance is just Jimmy backed by Duke on piano, Jimmy Woode on bass, and Sam Woodyard on drums — a tight little rhythm section giving Hamilton plenty of room to dance, with a cameo from just the band's trombone section only!

So… Who Jumped the Best?

Plenty of jumping goin on — Herb, Ivie, Ray, Jimmy, Tricky Sam, Tyree. Each brings a different kind of lift.

Who jumped highest for you?

Warehouse Whispers

Was this the first song to rhyme groovy with movie? It seems so 1960s!

Tuesday Tidbit: Smoke Rings

Still thinking about Duke Ellington’s I Got It Bad (And That Ain’t Good), I’m reminded of how I first encountered that record. It goes all the way back to my early big‑band‑fan days — young, curious, collecting anything I could get my hands on, absorbing the era one 78 at a time.

One of the most enlightening finds from that period was the Smoke Rings album of Victor 78s from 1944. Eight discs, eight bands, each with a hit from 1936–43. It felt like a curated crash course in the pop landscape of the time. Duke’s side was in there, of course — and hearing it in that lineup made a lasting impression.

So today, I thought it would be fun to revisit all eight sides and add the impressions I had back then.

Side 1: These Foolish Things Remind Me of You — Benny Goodman

At the time, I mainly knew Benny Goodman as the King of Swing — Sing, Sing, Sing, Don’t Be That Way, all the up‑tempo instrumentals. So hearing his band play a ballad was a surprise. Helen Ward’s fragile, wistful vocal style fits the song perfectly, like tissue paper around a keepsake. It was my first glimpse of BG’s softer palette.

Side 2: Once in a While — Tommy Dorsey

A lovely record from the cold‑open trombone solo straight through the quartet vocal. I already knew Tommy Dorsey’s trombone sound, so that felt familiar. Jack Leonard I recognized from Marie, and later — once I’d heard more TD sides — I realized Edythe Wright was tucked into the vocal ensemble even though the label claimed it was a male quartet.

Side 3: My Reverie — Larry Clinton

My favorite of the set. Larry Clinton wasn’t as famous as Goodman, Dorsey, or Miller, so this felt like a real discovery. A star arranger leading a band rather than a star instrumentalist — that intrigued me. And Bea Wain’s vocal is just gorgeous. I raved about this one in this earlier post.

Side 4: Moon Love — Sammy Kaye

A wild card. Sammy Kaye sits firmly in the sweet‑band category, and sweet bands don’t get much respect now (or then), but they were an important part of the era’s musical tapestry. Same basic instrumentation as the swing bands — trumpets, trombones, saxes, rhythm — yet completely different results. That's always been fascinating to me.

The sweet bands heavily featured vocalists, such as Clyde Burke here. I liked this side then, and I still do — singing song title and all!

Side 5: All the Things You Are — Artie Shaw

This one’s the goods — wonderful song, wonderful band, wonderful singer. Artie Shaw’s clarinet is every bit as brilliant as Goodman’s, just in a different way. And Helen Forrest is one of the great canaries of the period.

Side 6: Intermezzo — Freddy Martin

Another sweet band, but Freddy Martin always stood apart. His tenor sax tone gave the reed section a rich, unmistakable sound. And his fondness for classical‑leaning material makes Intermezzo a perfect fit. I still occasionally mix up Clyde Rogers and Clyde Burke, though!

Side 7: I Got It Bad and That Ain’t Good — Duke Ellington

Here’s the seismic shift. At the time, I think I only really had heard the fabulous Take the “A” Train as far as Duke Ellington records. But this record was something else entirely. Ivie Anderson’s vocal, the band’s texture, and that brief Johnny Hodges alto solo between her choruses — that solo alone sent me down a rabbit hole.

And it wasn’t lost on me that Duke was the only Black bandleader included in the set. In 1944, that was a statement.

Side 8: That Old Black Magic — Glenn Miller

A fitting closer. Glenn Miller was the band I knew best back then — LP compilations of his records were readily available. But this was my first time hearing Skip Nelson instead of Ray Eberle, which felt different, but Skip fit in well during his brief stint before Glenn entered the service.

When this album was released, Miller was in the AAF, and no one could have imagined he’d be lost later that year. It’s bittersweet in retrospect.

I look back on Smoke Rings as a key piece of my big‑band education — a curated sampler that opened doors, raised questions, and helped set me on the path I’m still walking today.

Thanks for strolling down memory lane with me.

Warehouse Whispers

Because it’s my job to wonder about such things, I’ve always been intrigued by the billing of the bandleaders on the album cover. It’s not in chronological order, but it’s not quite alphabetical either.

My take: the artists who were still under contract to Victor at the time — including Glenn Miller — are listed alphabetically first, with Larry Clinton and Benny Goodman appearing afterward. Clinton had left the music business to serve as a flight instructor for the AAF during WWII, and Goodman was recording for rival Columbia by then, so Victor didn’t have much incentive to promote them too heavily.

Look at me thinking like a 1940s record‑label exec!

Sundays with Duke #36: Settin’ and Sittin’

As we stay parked in 1941 with Duke Ellington, we hit upon another classic Ellington–Strayhorn collaboration: Just a‑Settin’ and a‑Rockin’.

📀 Swingin’ into Summer ’41

The band recorded it for Victor in June, with Ben Webster featured on tenor sax:

That just moves along at such a relaxed, swinging pace, as if the band really is just a-settin' and a rockin'!

The other soloists are Ray Nance on trumpet, Barney Bigard on clarinet, and the unmistakable Tricky Sam Nanton on trombone.

📝 Lyric Lift & Title Twist

The tune was reasonably popular and stayed in the band’s book — but with a twist. Lee Gaines of The Delta Rhythm Boys added lyrics, the title shifted to Just a‑Sittin’ and a‑Rockin’, and unlike most of Duke’s retro‑fitted vocal numbers, he actually usually performed this one with the lyrics.

📻 Nance Nudges It Along

Although the band didn’t cut a vocal studio version at the time, it turned up frequently on radio broadcasts with Ray Nance handling the vocal. This 1946 aircheck with an extended arrangement is a great example:

It fits Ray beautifully, which likely explains why Duke kept it in rotation.

🎙 Capitol Curiosities

Studio recordings after that were sporadic. Duke and Ray revisited the tune for Capitol in December 1953 in a quartet setting:

An interesting take — unissued at the time.

Later that same month, the full band recorded another version, again with Ray on vocal, also left unreleased:

Hard to say why those two takes stayed in the vault, but they’re both worth hearing. Ray clearly loves singing it!

🌹 Rosie’s Rendition

Another shelved item: this 1956 track with Rosemary Clooney overdubbing her vocal:

It comes from the sessions for the Columbia album Blue Rose, though it didn’t make the original release. That's Buck Clayton with the snazzy trumpet work.

🎤 Ella’s Echo

For a version that did come out contemporaneously, we jump to Ella Fitzgerald’s 1957 Ellington‑adjacent take for Verve:

This comes from Ella’s Duke Ellington Songbook sessions — a small‑group setting rather than Duke’s orchestra — but we do get a welcome cameo from Ben Webster!

🎹 Billy Brings It Back

For the final word on the tune, we once again turn to Billy Strayhorn’s 1963 Reprise album The Peaceful Side for this lovely rendition:

I’ll say it again — very peaceful.

So the recording history of this tune ends up being a little sideways: a hit in 1941, a lyric added later, and a surprising number of versions that spent years just sittin’ in the vault before they finally got to rockin’.