Milestone Recordings in American Music


The Marriage of Hot and Sweet (1938)

From the very beginning, jazz fans described the music as being either “hot” (with lots of improvisation and variation) or “sweet” (with highly arranged structure and a focus on the main melody). Of course, these terms are not mutually exclusive; both can be found in the same recording, and the rise of big band swing made it increasingly possible to blend the two approaches, taking a tight, basically “sweet” arrangement and adding fiery solos or other exciting “hot” touches. As the following selections show, some bands did this very, very well.

Benny Goodman and His Orchestra
Don’t Be That Way(Victor 25792, 1938)

Forget Benny Goodman’s legendary concert at Carnegie Hall: his greatest legacy from 1938 is this flawless recording. The song had been written by Chick Webb’s alto sax player Edgar Sampson, and Webb had a hit with it in 1935 (Decca 483). That version is phenomenal, but Goodman’s is immortal. Where Webb and company played the song fast and razor-sharp, Goodman’s band set a somewhat slower pace that allowed them to polish it into a rounder, fuller sound. The entire band is in top form, and every instrument sounds simultaneously spicy and sweet. Goodman himself leads the way with one of his best performances on clarinet, three separate solos that lure listeners in with soft tones then hook them with pointed playing that is no less rich. Solos by Harry James on trumpet and Vernon Brown on trombone are also quite good, as is the playing of Jess Stacy on piano and Gene Krupa on drums. This record is more than just a series of individual performances, though, as the ensemble playing is also extremely tight and enjoyable. Just listen to the opening section with the woodwinds playing the same melody octaves apart while the brass instruments add short, staccato accents. Or the way the entire band repeats the theme over and over again at the end, softer and softer until Krupa brings the volume back up with a machine-gun burst of drumming. Classic.

~ You may also like: Benny Goodman and His Orchestra featuring Peggy Lee, “Let’s Do It (Let’s Fall in Love)” (Okeh 6474, 1941)

Artie Shaw and His Orchestra
Begin the Beguine(Bluebird B-7746, 1938)

The great Artie Shaw was perhaps the only clarinetist of the big band era that could come close to Benny Goodman’s pure, sweet tone. Shaw’s band certainly challenged Goodman’s in popularity as well, and while they tended to have a very polished, sweeter style, they were also very talented and not afraid to experiment. Their rendition of Cole Porter’s “Begin the Beguine” was their first big hit, and it remains one of the most recognizable and delightful gems from the period. (For the record, a “beguine” is a kind of Caribbean dance and is pronounced the same as “begin.”) It is highly arranged, and the solos by Shaw and saxophonist Tony Pastor do little more than express the main melody, but there are just enough “hot” elements to keep it swinging. Most of that is thanks to Shaw himself who adds wonderful, improvised touches in all the right places, including a sliding crescendo that ends the song on a high note.

~ You may also like: Artie Shaw and His Gramercy Five, “Summit Ridge Drive” (Victor 26763, 1940)

Artie Shaw and His Orchestra featuring Billie Holiday
Any Old Time(Bluebird B-7759, 1938)

In 1938, Billie Holiday joined Artie Shaw, becoming one of the first African American singers to be featured in a white band. It was a match made in heaven, but unfortunately the extreme racism she faced while touring the South soon made her leave the group. “Any Old Time” was the only recording she made with Shaw, giving us only a hint of what could have been. The band plays beautifully, and Tony Pastor’s solo on tenor sax, while not adventurous, is notable for its marvelously rich tone. But, of course, it is Holiday who steals the show with a performance that rides effortlessly on the gorgeous melody, and yet reaches beyond it thanks to her multidimensional voice. Given Holiday’s incredible versatility, it is revelatory to hear her sing something so straightforward and so joyously pure.

~ You may also like: Teddy Wilson and His Orchestra featuring Billie Holiday, “These Foolish Things” (Brunswick 7699, 1936)

Red Norvo and His Orchestra featuring Mildred Bailey

Please Be Kind (Brunswick 8088, 1938)

Vibraphonist Red Norvo led a compotent, popular big band and had several hit records. He is most known for his excellent work with his wife, singer Mildred Bailey, which earned the couple the nickname “Mr. and Mrs. Jazz.” Bailey was a large woman, but she had a voice that floated as if it had angel wings. She was one of the most popular singers of her day, and her voice remains one of the loveliest in pop music history.

“Please be Kind” is a great example. It is a light record, with superbly sweet playing that keeps the song enjoyable without calling too much attention to itself. That leaves more of the spotlight for Bailey, who doesn’t disappoint. With a voice so pure that it embodies innocence, she sings: “This is my first affair / So please be kind / Handle my heart with care / Oh, please be kind!” The record was a major hit, and while it may not be the most technically impressive thing Bailey ever sang, it is so lovely that you can’t help being dazzled by it.

~ You may also like: Mildred Bailey and Her Orchestra, “Rockin’ Chair” (Vocalion 3553, 1937)

Larry Clinton and His Orchestra featuring Bea Wain
My Reverie(Victor 26006, 1938)

Larry Clinton enjoyed much success on the charts, both as a bandleader and as an arranger for others, but his greatest accomplishments came during the two-year tenure of vocalist Bea Wain. “My Reverie” was Clinton’s first #1 under his own name and beautifully displays what has made Wain a favorite among big band-era singers. The first half of the song is a lovely instrumental, a pop adaptation of the classical piano piece “Rêvierie” by Claude Debussy. It is pleasant, pure pop, far removed from “hot” jazz.

Wain’s voice, however, is a multidimensional wonder that works on a purely pop level while providing the kind of expressive depth and fluid sense of swing that characterized the best jazz singers. From the moment she begins to sing, everything else is all but irrelevant and her enchanting voice becomes the song. Listen to the ground she covers in just one line: “Without you, life will never begin to be.” Such power in “without” and “begin,” yet such restraint in “you” and “be.” She is behind the beat in the beginning and yet races ahead of it in the end, only to slow down and find her place again. And throughout it all, the timbre of her voice shimmers and evolves, moving from weighty to light-as-a-feather.

Unlike Billie holiday or Frank Sinatra, Wain’s career did not extend beyond World War II into the era when singers became more well-known than band leaders, so she is not as well known today. But for those who appreciate pure, perfect singing, she is one to look for.

~ You may also like: Larry Clinton and His Orchestra featuring Bea Wain, “Heart and Soul” (Victor 26046, 1938)

Count Basie and His Orchestra
Blue and Sentimental(Decca 1965, 1938)

This is a great example of how a record can sound soft and “sweet” and yet still feel unpredictably “hot” and exciting. While Lester Young is the better known of the band’s two star tenor sax players, this record is a showcase for Herschel Evans. Evans sets the tone early playing a slow, bluesy solo that fits the song’s title to a T. Other band members then contribute their own bluesy solos: Basie on piano, Ed Lewis on muted trumpet and Lester Young playing clarinet. All of the solos are highly enjoyable, and when the full band enters during the end of Young’s clarinet solo, it adds an almost overwhelming sense of depth and power. Evans then returns on sax while the band continues to play, and as they fade back into the background, Evans’ tender touch brings the record to a beautiful close. Unfortunately, Evans’ greatest moment would be one of his last, as he would die from a heart problem early the next year, just one month shy of his 30th birthday.

~ You may also like: Count Basie and His Orchestra featuring Helen Humes, “If I Could Be with You One Hour Tonight” (Vocalion 4748, 1939)


Other Swing (1938)

While the dance-floor sound of big bands like those of Benny Goodman and Chick Webb was rapidly becoming the standard for swing music, there was still a great deal of flexibility in the form. The following selections show some of the interesting variety that one could find in jazz in 1938, featuring everything from Gypsy strings to 1920s-style small group jazz.

Le Quintette du Hot Club de France
Minor Swing (Swing 23, 1938)

Here is another amazing record from Europe’s top jazz band, featuring the incomparable Django Reinhardt on guitar and Stéphane Grappelli on violin. Songs played in a minor key tend to generate dramatic tension – an increased sense of seriousness or somberness. This one, played in the A-minor harmonic key, is no different, but rather than creating an uneasy mood, the band channels that tension into a feeling of exotic uncertainty. The talented musicians keep things upbeat and swinging even while they leave the listener wondering what’s next. From the opening bars, the record plays with our expectations. Grappelli plays a brief intro that is followed by a single note from the bass that seems to be going somewhere, but instead simply fades to nothing. Where we would expect the full band to enter, we instead find ourselves back at the beginning. Grappelli repeats his intro and then we are finally off and running.

Reinhardt takes the first solo, a dexterous, unpredictable turn that starts with some melodic, single-string slide playing and ends abruptly on a discordant note. At that point, Grappelli returns for his own solo (with Reinhardt continuing to add little touches in the background). Where Reinhardt's Gypsy-style guitar had been mysterious and withdrawn, Grappelli soars with forceful purpose. Someone shouts, “Come on!” in the middle, and Grappelli responds by becoming even more animated. The record ends with a little coda that features some great interaction between Grappelli and bassist Louis Vola, and then someone cries what we’ve all been thinking: “Oh yeah!”

~ You may also like one of the fastest things Reinhardt ever recorded: Le Quintette du Hot Club de France, “Limehouse Blues” (HMV K-7706, 1936)

Louis Armstrong and His Orchestra
When the Saints Go Marching In (Decca 2230, 1938)

In the tradition of New Orleans funeral processions, Armstrong recorded this gospel song set to jazz. It proved immensely popular and has been covered so often that today it is the first song that comes to most listeners’ minds when they think of New Orleans jazz. Like much of Louis Armstrong’s 1930s output, “When the Saints Go Marching In” is more a showcase for his butter-on-burnt-toast vocals that for his trumpet playing, but he does end the song with a rousing solo that reminds us of his talent on that instrument. The other solos are taken by J.C. Higginbotham on trombone (twice) and Charlie Holmes on alto sax, and they have a distinctly Dixieland feel, as opposed to the swinging big band tone of the rest of the record. The lyrics are very simple, but Armstrong’s distinct voice is enjoyable to listen to, as are his spoken asides (“Blow, brother Holmes!”) and the backup singers’ responses (“Marching in!”). This is joyous music, plain and simple. It may not be deep, but it is perfect for singing along.

~ You may also like: Louis Armstrong and His Orchestra, “I Double Dare You” (Decca 1636, 1938)

Eddie Condon and His Windy City Seven
Ja-Da(Commodore 500, 1938)

Eddie Condon was a seminal figure in the Chicago jazz scene in the 1920s, playing with the likes of Bix Beiderbecke, Gene Krupa, Jack Teagarden and Frank Teschemacher. He was a solid but not remarkable banjoist and guitarist, but his true gift was organizing top notch players into exceptional ensembles. After moving to New York in 1928, Condon broke down barriers by organizing interracial recording sessions with some of the top African-American artists of the day, including Henry “Red” Allen, Louis Armstrong and Fats Waller. In the late ‘30s he assembled just such an interracial band that included some of New York’s finest musicians, and they would produce the best work of Condon’s career, including the lovely “Ja-Da.”

Although the swing era was already in full swing, Condon didn’t forget the older style of jazz he had played in the ‘20s in Chicago, and blended elements of it into swing to create his own unique sound. “Ja-Da” begins with some slow, old-style polyphony, with Bobby Hackett’s cornet carrying the lazy main melody while George Brunies and Pee Wee Russell add countermelodies on trombone and clarinet, respectively. Jess Stacy’s piano punctuates this and the rest of the song with spare, percussive notes that create a delicious contrast to the otherwise languid pace. After the opening section, Bud Freeman takes a long, mellow solo on tenor sax then Hackett returns to do the same on cornet. Mid-way through his solo, the accompaniment drops away and Hackett’s playing becomes much more forceful and staccato for a few bars before sliding back into mellow, dreamy territory. A brief solo by Russell on clarinet and a moment of soaring polyphony by the entire band bring the song to a close. This was the closest ting to Louis Armstrong’s groundbreaking Hot Five and Hot Seven sessions being made in 1938.

~ You may also like an earlier side featuring Condon on banjo and vocals, Frank Teschemacher on clarinet and a young Gene Krupa on drums: Eddie Condon Quartet, “(Back Home Again In) Indiana” (Parlophone R-2932, 1928)


Letting It All Out (1938)

The following selections cover a wide variety of styles (jazz, blues, country) and moods (playful, impassioned, sinister, melancholy), but they share an emphasis on spare arrangements with deeply relatable vocals. These records foreshadow the coming shift to the singer-centric recordings that would take over popular music after World War II, and they lay the groundwork for the fundamental changes that would create all new styles like honky tonk and rock and roll.

Slim & Slam
The Flat Foot Floogee (Vocalion 4021, 1938)

As this record comes to an end, Bulee “Slim” Gaillard and Leroy “Slam” Stewart can be heard commenting on what they’ve just performed and one of them remarks, “That’s a killer!” A better review could not be found. “The Flat Foot Floogee” (originally titled “The Flat Fleet Floogee”) is a remarkably swinging record, and yet freely breaks from the usual trappings of swing music. The duo’s singing is firmly rooted in the “jive” style exemplified by Cab Calloway, and like Calloway they pepper the record with seemingly nonsensical phrases that actually have meaning to them. (“Floogee” was supposed to stand for “floozy,” and “floy floy” was slang for “venereal disease.”) The song is perfectly enjoyable – maybe even more so – without knowing this, however, and indeed much of the singing really is nonsensical scatting.

Unlike Calloway, Gaillard and Stewart’s style is much more laid back in its delivery. Adding to the relaxed feel is the small-group accompaniment – guitar, bass, piano and drums – which is mostly just used to provide a steady rhythm during the first minute of the song. The instruments occasionally pipe up to add emphasis during this part, but most of the work is done by the vocalists, with one of the duo singing and the other either singing along or behaving like an instrument by scatting in the background.

The second part of the song features two outstanding solos. The first is by Stewart, who was a master of the bowed bass. What makes the performance even more remarkable is the way he hums along, voicing the same melody an octave apart from his playing. The second solo is by Gaillard, whose main instrument was the guitar, but played many instruments. Here he plays the vibes, and both vocalists freely comment throughout: “Solid, man!” Both solos retain the laid-back feel of the rest of the song, something that would not be as easy to do in a larger ensemble. While that mellowness and the hipster lyrics make some people dismiss Slim and Slam’s work as novelty or fluff, to do so is a mistake. This is a unique and well-played record that just happens to be immensely entertaining, and it was an influential step on the road to creating jump blues and eventually R&B and rock and roll.

~ You may also like: The Spirits of Rhythm, “My Old Man” (Brunswick 6728, 1933)

Sonny Boy Williamson
Whiskey Head Blues (Bluebird B-7707, 1938)

Part of what I love about Sonny Boy Williamson’s music is the passion of his performances. There is loads of talent there, but his musical ability always takes a backseat to the sheer power of his delivery. “Whiskey Head Blues” is a particularly enjoyable example of this. Guitar and mandolin bounce along sloppily underneath, while Williamson gives a soulful, spellbinding performance. At times, it sounds like he’s not even trying to make a record, he’s just wailing (with his harmonica as well as his voice) and lamenting his lover’s drunken ways: “Well, now every time I see you, you’s at some whiskey joint / Standin’ at the back door, askin’ for another half a pint.” Of course, Williamson’s genius is that he pushes the boundaries just far enough, keeping the music jagged around the edges but never so sharp as to be off-putting. In fact, for blues fans, this is just the opposite: an utterly riveting, essential record.

~ You may also like: Sonny Boy Williamson, “Decoration Blues” (Bluebird B-7665, 1938)

Robert Johnson
Me and the Devil Blues” (take 2) (Vocalion 04108, 1938)

(Note that there were two takes of this song recorded in 1937, and both were released as Vocalion 04108 in 1938. They are very similar, but the second take is the definitive one.)

This song has the most evocative imagery of any in Johnson’s catalog, packing a punch whether they are taken literally or figuratively. The narrator sings of “walking side by side” with the devil and unrepentantly blames his wicked behavior (“I’m gonna beat my woman until I get satisfied”) on “that old evil spirit.” Johnson’s guitar work and voice are as strong as ever, making the lyrics that much more compelling. At the end, he sings: “You may bury my body down by the highway side / So my old evil spirit can get a Greyhound bus and ride.”

Unfortunately, this would be the last of Johnson’s recordings released in his lifetime. In August of 1938, he would be poisoned, apparently by the jealous husband of a woman he flirted with, and would die a few days later at the age of only 27.

~ You may also like: Robert Johnson, “I’m a Steady Rollin’ Man” (Vocalion 03723, 1937)

Cliff Bruner’s Texas Wanderers
It Makes No Difference Now (Decca 5604, 1938)

Cliff Bruner was a fiddle player in Milton Brown’s pioneering western swing band until Brown’s untimely death in 1936. Afterwards, Bruner formed his own group, the Texas Wanderers, and experienced a good deal of success on his own. “It Makes No Difference Now” (written by Floyd Tillman) was his biggest hit, and listening to it you will understand why. While it is clearly rooted in western swing, this record reflects a sparer, more intimate style that would directly influence the “honky tonk” music that would come to dominate country music. This is not lively music to dance to, but something to feel in your gut. To use a country music cliché, it was music to cry in your beer to.

The background instrumentation features a crazy swirl of steel guitar (by Bob Dunn) and piano (by Aubrey “Moon” Mullican), but the emphasis is placed firmly on Dickie McBride’s melancholy, baritone vocals and Leo Raley’s striking electric mandolin. Both of these are slow and deliberate, making the listener pay attention to the narrator’s tale of a recently ended love affair: “Now that we have really parted, I can’t believe we’re through / I don’t blame myself, and I’m sure I can’t blame you.” It is a simple, direct and flawlessly executed performance, and one that every honky-tonk fan should know.

~ You may also like one of pianist Moon Mullican’s turn on vocals: Cliff Bruner’s Texas Wanderers, “Truck Driver’s Blues” (Decca 5725, 1939)


Epic Swing (1937-1938)

Benny Goodman’s monumental recording of “Sing, Sing, Sing” was a watershed moment in American popular music, one that redefined the scope of jazz and further cemented swing as the sound of the nation. But Goodman weas not alone, as artists like Chick Webb and Raymond Scott were also pushing boundaries and making big band music that was every bit as ground breaking and compelling.

The Raymond Scott Quintette
Twilight in Turkey(Master MA 108, 1937)

Raymond Scott’s off-beat recordings are familiar to most people from the soundtracks of many classic 1940s Looney Tunes cartoons, where their frenetic energy and unexpected sounds fit in perfectly with the on-screen zaniness. His records were not originally made for that medium, however, and they are just as enjoyable on their own. “Twilight in Turkey,” for example, is a kinetic masterpiece with an uptempo beat that is carried by a variety of different percussion instruments, including at one point some finger cymbals. Meanwhile, the orchestra plays just as fast, their playing punctuated by frequent whining growls from a muted trumpet and several bizarre interludes – everything from an exotic-sounding Oriental dance to a dizzy saxophone solo to a confused, discordant clarinet. Somehow it all works and the end result stands as some of the most inventive jazz of its time.

~ You may also like: The Raymond Scott Quintette, “Powerhouse” (Master MA 111, 1937)

Jimmie Lunceford and His Orchestra
For Dancers Only(Decca 1340, 1937)

At his best, such as on “For Dancers Only,” Jimmie Lunceford created swinging records that rival the best work of better-remembered bandleaders like Goodman, Ellington and Basie. The genius of Lunceford’s band was the way it moved seamlessly as if a single entity, while still sounding loose and fresh. Except for two noteworthy solos, the instruments here stick close to the main melodic theme, but they make the most of that framework with colorful tone and a phenomenal arrangement by Sy Oliver. The two solos are highly creative and memorable: a spare turn on tenor sax by Joe Thomas that ends with “laughing” tremolo and a high, rallying cry of a trumpet solo by Tommy Stevenson that must have driven dancers crazy with excitement. This record should be on any swing music fan’s short list.

~ You may also like: Jimmie Lunceford and His Orchestra, “Lunceford Special” (Columbia 38338, 1939)

Benny Goodman and His Orchestra
Sing, Sing, Sing (With a Swing)(Victor 36205, 1937)

While limited to just over three minutes per side on a standard, 10-inch 78 RPM record, many jazz bands would stretch songs out much longer in live performances. In 1937, Goodman and his band recreated this in the studio, creating an epic eight-and-a-half minute recording that filled both sides of a 12-inch record (the split coming in the middle of an extended drum solo), a format usually reserved for classical music. That recording of Louis Prima’s “Sing, Sing, Sing” was a game-changer and has continued to be one of the most recognized jazz records in history.

Right from the start, Gene Krupa’s drums command the listener’s attention with a propulsive intro. As the rest of the band joins in, it turns into an enjoyable, fairly straight-forward swing number with excellent arrangement by Jimmy Mundy and a hot clarinet solo by Goodman. But Krupa’s drums never go away; underneath the melody, he’s still banging out that rhythm like a man possessed, and when all of the other instruments suddenly disappear just before the two-minute mark, you realize that this is not going to be your average swing number after all.

Those drums are unstoppable, and every time the orchestra stops, Krupa bangs and bangs until he summons them back, sometimes en masse and sometimes one instrument at a time. Some of the best moments are the free form solos taken by Vido Musso on tenor sax and Goodman on clarinet against just that drum beat. Especially thrilling, though, are the full-orchestra moments in the second half, where the band seems to be rushing recklessly forward, barely able to control itself, pushed forward by that incessant drum beat. When the song finally comes to a sudden end, if you’ve been paying attention, you should find yourself out of breath!

~ You may also like any of the music from Goodman’s legendary 1938 Carnegie Hall concert, which featured an even longer version of “Sing, Sing, Singas well as this superb performance: Benny Goodman and His Orchestra, “One O’Clock Jump” (live: January 16, 1938; The Famous 1938 Carnegie Hall Jazz Concert, Columbia SL 160, 1950)

1938 Headlines … Great Depression continues … Superman debuts in Action Comics #1 … Orson Welles’ “War of the Worlds” radio hoax causes panic through eastern U.S. … Holocaust begins in Germany

Chick Webb and His Orchestra
Harlem Congo (Decca 1681, 1938)

One cannot say enough about how talented Chick Webb’s band was. Before their leader’s untimely death in 1939, no other band in new York could touch them. “Harlem Congo” is a perfect example of their prowess, a performance as fast-paced and lively as the city it represents. The whole band is phenomenal, but special attention goes to Taft Jordan’s show-stopping work on trumpet and Chauncey Haughton’s solo on clarinet, which starts ridiculously high and fast before taking a whirling plummet downward. And lest anyone forget who the best drummer in the business is, Webb settles the argument with a final drum solo that pulls out all the stops. When he is finished, the rest of the band returns for a slow, sweet coda as if taking a well-deserved bow after such a dazzling performance.

~ You may also like another display of Webb’s tremendous talent on drums: Chick Webb and His Orchestra, “Liza (All the Clouds’ll Roll Away)” (Decca 1840, 1938)

Chick Webb and His Orchestra featuring Ella Fitzgerald
A-Tisket A-Tasket(Decca 1840, 1938)

As if his band wasn’t already talented enough, Webb had the good fortune to discover a talented teenage singer named Ella Fitzgerald in 1935, and she was soon accompanying the band on performances and in the studio. Although she was an awkward “diamond in the rough” at first, as Webb put it, she would go on to establish herself as one of the all-time premier singers in jazz and popular song.

“A-Tisket A-Tasket” was her break-through hit with the band, with lyrics updated by Fitzgerald from a popular nursery rhyme. Those lyrics would be forgettable in lesser hands, but Fitzgerald’s vocal control and innate sense of swing allows her to transcend their silliness and turn in a thoroughly riveting performance. She delivers the lines sincerely and yet not without a playful wink, especially when she banters back and forth with the band: “(Was it green?) No, no, no, no / (Was it blue?) No, no, no, no / (Was it red?) No, no, no, no / Just a little yellow basket!” The band’s playing is highly arranged to provide the perfect background for the vocalist, but the lack of their usual “hot” soloing does not turn out to be a disadvantage. Try to listen to this song once paying attention only to the instruments, and you will hear a flawless blend of heavenly sweetness and lively energy that is as impressive as anything in their catalog.

“A-Tisket A-Tasket” proved such a monstrous hit that it helped propel the band to a new level of fame. Unfortunately, Webb himself would die the following year at age 34 following a lifetime of health problems, and it would be up to Fitzgerald to carry on as bandleader.

~ You may also like: Chick Webb and His Orchestra featuring Ella Fitzgerald, “Undecided” (Decca 2323, 1939)


Loch Lomond (1937)

I added the following essential recording to the last entry:
Thanks to heartofglass for pointing out this omission!

Next: I wrap up 1937 and begin 1938...


Swing from the Heart (1937)

The tight arrangements and hot solos of swing made it popular as dance music, but as the following selections show, in the right hands it could move hearts as compellingly as it could feet.

Billie Holiday and Her Orchestra
Without Your Love (Vocalion 3593, 1937)

On this fine outing, Lady Day gives another outstanding performance, convincingly delivering some very clever lyrics: “Without your love, I’m like a plane without wings / A violin with no strings, without your love.” Lester Young does a marvelous job throughout, his feather-light tenor sax shadowing Holiday with playful subtlety at every turn. After the first verse, James Sherman takes a pleasant, relaxed solo on piano, and then Buck Clayton delivers a knock-out punch on trumpet with a forceful solo that soon softens and glides gracefully back into Holiday’s vocals and Young’s obbligato.

~ You may also like: Teddy Wilson and His Orchestra featuring Billie Holiday, “Easy Living” (Brunswick 7911, 1937)

Bunny Berigan and His Orchestra
I Can’t Get Started (Victor 36208, 1937)

Bunny Berigan was a sideman on many of the best recordings of the swing era, but he saved his best performance for this record under his own name. In my mind, “I Can’t Get Started” is the most underappreciated recording of the swing era. It’s seen its fair share of accolades from jazz lovers, to be sure, but the song is so good that everyone should know it and be able to identify it as readily as “Take the ‘A’ Train,” for example. It starts out with a trumpet solo of sublime beauty by Berigan that easily rivals the work of his idol, Louis Armstrong. From his rich, shimmering tone to his intuitive phrasing, that brief solo goes straight to the heart and tells as much of a story as the lyrics that follow.

Those lyrics, by Ira Gershwin, are pretty incredible as well: “I’ve flown around the world in a plane / I’ve settled revolutions in Spain / And the North Pole I have charted / Still I can't get started with you.” Berigan does a fine job singing them, but it is his return to trumpet that really seals this song as a classic. The narrator may not have been able to seduce the object of his affection, but I challenge anyone to resist the musical seduction of Berigan’s incredible trumpet.

Unfortunately, Berigan’s genius was too short lived. His incredible talent began suffering due to his battle with alcoholism, and in 1942 at the age of only 33, he lost the battle and died from cirrhosis of the liver.

~ You may also like one of Berigan’s first great performances: Gene Gifford and His Orchestra, “Nothin’ but the Blues” (Victor 25041, 1935)

Barney Bigard and His Jazzopators (Duke Ellington)
Caravan (Variety VA 515, 1937)

The melody for “Caravan,” one of Duke Ellington’s most enduring standards, started off as an improvisation by trombonist Juan Tizol. Ellington would have a big hit in 1937 with his second recording of the song, a full-orchestra arrangement (Master 131). To my ears, though, the song’s first recording at a small group session in December 1936, has yet to be surpassed. Recording under the name of Ellington’s clarinetist, Barney Bigard, the band plays with incredible unity, stating and repeating the exotic theme vividly throughout. The solos are crisp and exciting. Tizol goes first, giving a sultry performance that builds anticipation slowly then speeds things up even as it retains a cautious air of danger. Cootie Williams’ “jungle” style muted trumpet then interrupts with a growl, followed by Harry Carney’s fluid baritone sax and Bigard’s wailing clarinet. Bigard’s solo is the song’s emotional high-point, after which it recedes back into the main theme and quickly fades back into the night from which it came.

~ You may also like: Duke Ellington and His Famous Orchestra, “Ko-Ko” (Victor 26577, 1940)

Bing Crosby with Lani McIntyre and His Hawaiians
Sweet Leilani(Decca 1175, 1937)

This lovely recording, from the movie Waikiki Wedding, opens with a duet between Hawaiian music legends Lani McIntyre and George Kainapau. McIntyre does not have the strongest voice, but there is a certain charm in his delicate delivery, and Kainapau’s falsetto backing vocals are dreamily delightful. After the first verse, Crosby takes over the lead, and his crooning baritone lifts the song to a new level of enchantment, with McIntyre and Kainapau continuing to provide backing vocals. Compared to the faster-paced swing music being made at the time, it might be easy to label this record as saccharine fluff, a Hollywood ode to the Hawaiian music craze. It should not be so quickly dismissed, though. It provided Crosby with a #1 hit for good reason: it is one of the best, and surprisingly most authentic, Hawaiian-themed hits of the era.

~ You may also like: King Nawahi’s Hawaiians, “Mauna Kea” (Columbia 40017-D¸ 1930)

Maxine Sullivan and Her Orchestra
Loch Lomond (Vocalion 3654, 1937)

Maxine Sullivan was a jazz singer with a particularly soft, smooth delivery that was nevertheless as swinging as any of her contemporaries. “Loch Lomond,” a swinging version of a traditional Scottish folk song recorded with Claude Thornhill and his band, was her biggest hit. It was so big, in fact, that it defined her for the rest of her career and she found herself recording mostly folk material from that point on. While that suited her style just fine, her magnificent renditions of jazz standards show that she was capable of much more. Still, “Loch Lomond” remains her finest moment.

Her voice seems to shimmer on this record, carrying the melody with perfect clarity, while adding a delicate extra dimension that makes the song truly swing. Listen to the way she modulates her voice, adding quick vibrato touches and controlling her timbre and timing with masterful precision as she sweetly draws out each word. The band behind her plays in a similar calm, slow-swinging style, but even without the relaxed trumpet and saxophone solos, this record would unmistakably be called jazz based purely on Sullivan’s remarkable vocal performance.

~ You may also like: Maxine Sullivan and Her Orchestra, “Nice Work If You Can Get It” (Vocalion 3848, 1937)

Tommy Dorsey and His Orchestra featuring Jack Leonard
Marie(Victor 25523, 1937)

Tommy Dorsey and His Orchestra
Song of India (Victor 25523, 1937)

Both sides of this single were breakout hits for Tommy Dorsey and they remain highlights of his catalog. “Marie” begins with a lovely, unassuming intro from Dorsey on trombone, and then heats up with some incredibly fun, layered singing. Jack Leonard provides the smooth lead part and his voice reverberates with a depth that belies his gentle delivery. Meanwhile, the spaces of that depth are filled by the band, half-singing half-shouting a different, more boisterous set of lyrics. While Leonard romantically sings, “Marie, you’ll soon be waking / To find our hearts are aching,” the band adds its own brand of rowdy enthusiasm: “Girl of my dreams! I want you! I need you! Have a little faith in me! Tra la la la la!”

The contrast of the two sets of superimposed vocals, simultaneously proclaiming love for Marie in their own way, is irresistible. As the lyrics end (with the band shouting “Mama!”), Bunny Berigan enters with a sizzling trumpet solo that ups the ante even more. His first note slides into a squeak that is like a jolt of electricity, and yet for all its energy his trumpet never loses its buttery tone. The rest of the solos are solid if not earth-shattering, but by then the record has already cemented its place as one of the finest pop songs of the swing era.

~ You may also like some great trumpet playing from Berigan with another band: Benny Goodman and His Orchestra, “Sometimes I’m Happy” (Victor 25090, 1935, 1935)

The other side of the single is nearly as good. “Song of India” is a jazz adaptation of an aria from the opera Sadko by Nikolai Rimsky-Korsakov. It is a remarkable arrangement that builds slowly around a soft theme first stated by Dorsey on muted trombone. The tension between that quiet theme and the energy of the full orchestra is ever-present, and the latter slowly builds in intensity until the final minute when Berigan bursts through with a trumpet solo that is the record’s finest moment. Although brief, it is another stunning display from Berigan, capturing both the energy and the spirit of the song while simultaneously breaking free from it. The full-band then returns for an amazing four-second transition that takes the song from its energetic peak back to the original, soft theme.

~ You may also like yet some more of Berigan’s best: Frankie Trumbauer and His Orchestra, “Troubled” (Victor 24834, 1935)

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