Why the Chimes Rang

"Why the Chimes Rang" is a 1909 children's book by Raymond MacDonald Alden, here adapted for a 1947 release on the RCA Victor label. It tells the story of mystical church chimes that had not rung for many years, and the sacrifice of a young boy on Christmas Eve that awakened the bells.

The RCA release features radio personality Ted Malone, whose specialty was reciting poetry and telling stories. Malone's soothing tones were reputedly the inspiration for the Ernie Kovacs character Percy Dovetonsils (a reference that no doubt will be meaningless to anyone but Americans of a certain age). Malone's talents are well suited to this material, as are the skills of organist Dick Leibert, who makes the Radio City Music Hall's mighty Wurlitzer stand in for a cathedral organ.

Ted Malone

I have included a PDF of the original book in the download. It is interesting to note the differences between the book and the adaptation. The story hinges on a boy named Pedro and his little brother finding an old woman in the snow. In the original, the boy tells his brother to go on ahead to the church but then to come back with help. That latter part is left off the records, leaving you to wonder if Pedro was planning to drag the poor old lady to shelter. Also, at the end of the story on the records, an angel appears to provide a moral to the story, which is left implicit in the book.

In all, a nice production. My copy is a bit worn, but the sound is still reasonably good. The download includes full scans, including two excellent illustrations found on the gatefold cover of this two-record set of 78s.

A Christmas Carillon

St. Joseph's Oratory on Mount Royal is Canada's largest church, and also has a large carillon. Here we have a record of two familiar Christmas hymns, probably issued soon after the carillon was installed in 1954. The church says it was originally designed for the Eiffel Tower, but doesn't explain how it ended up on a hillside in Montreal.

The record, a 78 with the cardboard cover at right, was probably offered as a souvenir of the church. Émile Vendette, carillonist of the Oratory in 1955-56, performs "Angels We Have Heard on High" and "Silent Night".

Carillons, which are collections of brass bells - in this case 56 of them weighing 12 tons - make an mighty noise, and this is a well recorded example. But they are unwieldy devices, played by striking paddles with fists, and are better suited to solemn music like "Silent Night" than such fare as "Angels We Have Heard on High". The sound of a carillon is not for those squeamish about intonation - not helped in this example by a warped pressing.

Despite that, I am sure you will be impressed by the sound of this magnificent instrument. Quite a contrast to the music box record I posted on my other blog today!

Our Christmas Waltz

I have to admit that I picked up this record primarily because of its Christmas coloring, but fortunately it's worth hearing as well as seeing.

This is a green vinyl promo copy of a 78 from 1949. That year, RCA Victor had begun issuing 45s, initially color coding the vinyl to signify genre - red for classical, yellow for children's records, etc. This 78 is pressed on the watery green vinyl that RCA used for its country 45s. And although "Our Christmas Waltz" started off as a country song, this is decidedly not a hillbilly record.

Larry Green

Larry Green was actually a society bandleader, located in Boston. He plays the piano heard here, in the style of Eddy Duchin.

Ray Dorey

"Our Christmas Waltz," a simple but attractive song, was a hit for Red Foley and Judy Martin on the country charts. It is coupled here with a new Hoagy Carmichael-Paul Francis Webster tune with the strange title "Follow the Swallow to Hide-A-Way Hollow". The Carmichael song is also a good one, with a lyric in the manner of "I'll Buy That Dream". Both are very well sung by the sonorous Ray Dorey. The baritone had been with Benny Goodman and made several singles for the Majestic label. He later became a Boston radio-television personality.

Honey Dreamers Christmas Single

How about starting the Christmas shares off with another Honey Dreamers record? This one is a kiddie record from 1956 celebrating the latest helper of Santa, one Rootie Tootie Tootie, who is also identified as a "kewtee bear". He is the fellow at the right in the picture sleeve. Just so there is no mistake, his beanie denotes him as "Santa's Helper". It's not clear why he has belt and suspenders, having no trousers to hold up.

The back story of this scene is that Santa has been loading up with cookies and has become too fat to get down the chimney. So Rootie has become the designated toy dispenser. Unfortunately, Santa and Rootie did not discuss their respective roles before getting to this house, and the appropriately porcine-looking Santa has become stuck, to Rootie's amusement.

I gather that the children of 1956 found this tale appealing, although I was a child in good standing at the time and have no recollection of it. (I like to think I would have rejected it out of hand, but that's probably just me imputing my fabulous adult taste to my preferences as a six-year-old.) There was a children's book, two different records, and a toy bear. Unfortunately for the promoters, Rootie did not become as popular as Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer.

If you can handle kiddie records, you will find this to be is a good example of the genre, with a catchy melody well presented by the versatile Honey Dreamers. The flip side is "The Little Bell," a simple you-can-do-it anthem for the junior set. I have included the "Story of Santa's Kewtee Bear" in the download, for those who want the full experience. I haven't listened, myself, but I believe it features Alan Reed (the voice of Fred Flintstone) and May Questel (the voice of Betty Boop). It would have been more interesting if Santa had taken Fred and Betty along with him and left the bear at home.

The Honey Dreamers on the Beach

This is a companion post to one on my other blog devoted to the Honey Dreamers, a fine 50s group that's now forgotten.

The back of the EP (below) indicates that this group includes lead singer Patty McGovern, which would date the recordings as being made before 1955. However, this particular release must date from several years later, because it's on SESAC Repertory Recordings, which didn't come into existence until 1958.

To clear up any mystery, SESAC was and is the smallest of the performing rights organizations (the others are ASCAP and BMI). I believe that SESAC had a transcription service to showcase works by its composers. The Honey Dreamers must have made some recordings for them, later issued on this and one or two other EPs.

Here they are accompanied by the excellent Richard Maltby band, and the tunes, while not deathless are enjoyable and characteristic of the time; the wordless "A Peach on a Beach" includes wolf whistles, etc. The performances are, if anything, better than on the Gershwin album on the Big 10-Inch Record site.

The sound is lathered with reverb, but otherwise fine.

Gospel Boogie

Today we have one of the great hits of Southern gospel music; also one of its most controversial records. It's also a song that I've loved since I was a young fellow.

This particular record has two titles: "Gospel Boogie" and "(Everybody's Gonna Have) A Wonderful Time Up There". I got to know the song from Pat Boone's 1958 version, but this is the original, from 1947.

The tune originated with Lee Roy Abernathy, who brought it with him when he joined the leading gospel group the Homeland Harmony Quartet in 1947. Issued on White Church Records (and later picked up by King), it sold quite well. "Gospel Boogie" is a "talking blues," a form that was being popularized in country music by Tex Williams, whose "Smoke! Smoke! Smoke! That Cigarette" was a big hit that same year. The "talking blues" date back to Chris Bouchillon's 1926 record of that name.

The controversy was not in the singing (or "talking") so much as the song's strong boogie rhythm, which was decidedly secular and a real novelty in the field. In that it was well ahead of its time and looked forward to the work of such groups as the Statesmen (whose Hovie Lister had passed through the Homeland quartet in 1943). On this record, the quartet (actually a quintet with Abernathy) makes sounds that both look forward to the vocal backing you might hear on rock 'n' roll records 10 years later, and at the same time reflect what the singers might have heard on the radio from such black pop/gospel groups as the Charioteers.

The flip side - "You Can't Believe Everything You Hear" - is hardly less successful, so this is a really superior record, strong both in lyrics and in musical presentation.

Lee Roy Abernathy was only in the group for a short time, but went on to a long career in gospel music as singer and songwriter. Pictured above is the ensemble that I believe appears on this record. Abernathy is seated. Standing from left are Connor Hall, Shorty Bradford, James McCoy and A.D. Soward.

The record has now (June 2023) been remastered in ambient stereo and has much better sound.

Day, Dawn and Dusk

I enjoy doing research into the histories of more obscure artists, with the thought that the ordinary is more illuminating of its time that the extraordinary. I hope you won't think I am damning the singing group Day, Dawn and Dusk by calling them ordinary - they were talented people who seem to have had a good career, as careers go in the high-risk musical field. But they never had a real breakthrough and I think you will agree after experiencing their work that they were enjoyable without being (as they say on American television) "amazing!!"

Day, Dawn and Dusk were (as you have surmised) a trio. The two constants in the group were arranger and tenor Eddie Coleman and pianist and bass Bob Carver. The baritone (and chief comic) of the group was at first Gus Simmons (or Simons), succeeded by Mack Smith. The first evidence of the group's existence is a 1942 mention in Billboard. The trio began making records in 1944, and appeared on a succession of small labels periodically until 1956, the last mention I can find of them.

Coleman, Carver and Simmons in 1944

Smith, Coleman and Carver in the 50s

The record under examination today was made in 1954 for Herald, an R&B and gospel label. Nonetheless, on the basis of these sides, Day, Dawn and Dusk (called the Day, Dawn, Dusk Trio by Herald) was decidedly a pop ensemble, sounding more like the Ames Brothers than an R&B group. "All Through the Years," is typical pop of the time. The other side, "The Kiss (That Broke My Heart)", sounds like it could be accompanied by slap-dancing fellows in lederhosen.

The early ad at left above describes the group as "comedy singing stars" - and a few videos survive from the 1940s showing them doing their specialties. I have included these (I think they were Soundies) in the download. Even though the video quality is execrable, you can see the talent they possessed, but you can also see they were not inspired performers.

The group that appears on the Herald record is likely the unit at right. The sound is very good.

Betty Garrett Rhumbas with Humphrey Bogart

Betty Garrett was at the height of her screen popularity in 1949, when she made this record for M-G-M's captive record company. That year, she appeared in the fine musicals On the Town and Take Me Out to the Ball Game, both with Frank Sinatra.

The attraction here is a novelty called "The Humphrey Bogart Rhumba," which is a catalogue song calling out many if not most of the then stars of Hollywood, including Garrett's husband Larry Parks and Betty herself. Strange that M-G-M chose Bogie to honor - he was a Warner Bros. contractee. Bogart does make an appearance on the record, by the way.

The South American influence was strong in music at the time, and Garrett had even introduced a song that parodied the whole craze three years earlier - "South America, Take It Away" in Harold Rome's show Call Me Mister. (The original cast LP is available on my other blog, Big 10-Inch Record, here.)

Garrett hawks cold cream

Through a good part of the song, Garrett affects a flat, sardonic tone reminiscent of Virginia O'Brien (another M-G-M player). Not in the least my favorite approach to any song, but I guess it works well enough here.

The flip side is "Johnny Get Your Girl," an advice-to-the-lovelorn song similar to the almost exactly contemporary tune "Don't Cry, Joe (Let Her Go, Let Her Go, Let Her Go)". The music here is by Vic Mizzy, whose greatest hits were the themes to Green Acres and The Addams Family. Mizzy's melodies tended to be simple to the point of childish - this one may remind you of "A Tisket, A Tasket". It's still an attractive recording - as was the competing version by Dean Martin.

The sound is quite good, as are the arrangements by Harold Mooney.

Vic Damone

A lovelorn Vic Damone for you today, calling up Mrs. Jones only to find that her lovely daughter has chosen another. A sad tale, and all too frequent - particularly in 20th century pop songs.

Yes, "Hello Mrs. Jones, Is Mary There?" may have a trite lyric, but that doesn't keep Damone from giving the song his considerable best, and the result is completely convincing.

The record dates from early 1955 - my copy is old store stock and comes complete with an inventory tag telling me they received it on February 25. As far as I can determine, it was not a big seller.

Billboard ad

The flip side is a lesser song, "Foolishly," also done well by Damone, whose output was consistently excellent.

"Hello Mrs. J" also was recorded in the UK by Dickie Valentine, then at the height of his popularity. He had many songs on the charts that year - this not among them.

Conductor on this date was Hugo Peretti, then near the beginning of his career. He went on to much success as a songwriter and producer in the company of his cousin Luigi Creatore ("Hugo & Luigi", who even had their own logo). That said, the arrangements here really aren't very good.

This one is by request of a good friend and longtime supporter of my blogs. There is much more Vic over at my other blog, some of which is still available - Big 10-Inch Record.

Tony Martin

Today, another memorial to a fine singer, Tony Martin, who died July 25 at age 98. We have two singles for you, one from very early in his career, the other when he was achieving some success as a recording artist.

The latter first: it is a version of "Body and Soul" released by Mercury in 1947 to coincide with the John Garfield boxing noir of the same name. It came encased in the beautiful 78 picture sleeve at right. The flip is "As Time Goes By," and the backing is by Earle Hagen, who later scored many American television shows.

Martin made a couple dozen records for Mercury in 1946 and 1947 before moving on. Earlier, he had worked for Decca and before that Brunswick, where he recorded a few sides in late 1936 and early 1938. Thankfully, Martin's mannerism of using a sudden pianissimo on high or climactic notes had not yet taken hold on these earlier recordings. They were made in Los Angeles, where Martin had begun to appear in films, marrying fellow singing actor Alice Faye in 1937.

This particular Brunswick single was issued under the name of English bandleader Ray Noble, who came to the US in 1935 to form a new band, and, like Martin, to seek Hollywood fame. Noble and Martin both appeared in Astaire-Rogers films, although not the same one. Martin was in 1936's "Follow the Fleet" and Noble was in "A Damsel in Distress" the next year. To make the circle complete, the latter film featured Burns and Allen, and Martin was the vocalist on their radio show.

The main attraction here is the first recording of one of Noble's best songs, "I Hadn't Anyone 'Till You," which sold very well. The flip is "The Moon of Manakoora," a movie song by Frank Loesser and Alfred Newman that also achieved some popularity.

The record is a good chance to hear Noble's American band. The sound is typically elegant, but must have seemed very dated even 10 years later. I haven't been able to locate the personnel for this particular date but he recorded a few days later with the following line-up: Jim Davison, George Connell, Frank Barnard (tp) George Guerette, Jack Madden (tb) Herb Mason (cl,bcl,as,fl) Ted Davison, Howard Campbell (cl,ts) Vern Kahanen (as) Johnny Burt (p) Red McGarvey (g) Cliff Timms, Cliff Cadman, Jack Neilson (vln) Joe Niosi (b) Bill Harty (d) Reefe McGarvey (tymp).

Although he is not celebrated as an important vocalist, Martin's virile yet romantic approach was ahead of its time and he ought to be seen as an influence on better remembered singers such as Dean Martin and the many other straightforward baritones who appeared in the postwar era.

FYI - My other blog  (Big 10-Inch Record) has two Tony Martin posts. I have newly reuploaded his Mercury LP, "Dreamland Rendezvous", and he also appears with Kathryn Grayson in a recording of "The Desert Song".

Johnny Prophet

This is a memorial post for the fine but almost unknown singer Johnny Prophet (given name Profeta), who died last week at age 87.

Writer and record producer Bill Reed has written several times about the singer, and recently said, "I feel there is a case for deeming Prophet the most underrated of all the purveyors of the Great American Songbook." You can read Prophet's obituary on Bill's blog, People vs.Dr. Chilledair.

Prophet made a few records dating back to the early 50s, but his big break was when Frank Sinatra's label, Reprise, signed him in the early 60s, on the strength of an LP he had made for a small label. But Reprise was sold not long thereafter, and the big break did not lead to big stardom. Nonetheless, Prophet had a long career singing in Nevada saloons and night clubs near his California home, and issued at least five albums (two of which I have, somewhere).

Here is an early record, one of two singles Prophet recorded for Coral in 1953. Johnny might have had some kind of connection with songwriter Ralph Freed, because both of the songs here are from Freed's pen, and the sheet music at left (of a song not on this record) also was Freed's work.

"Come Back Little Sheba" must have been written in conjunction with the film of the William Inge play, which came out the same year. However, as far as I know the song was not used in the film. On the record Sheba is a women; in the play she is a dog.

The flip side is a waltz called "Ask Her While You're Dancing". Both songs are entirely conventional if not unattractive, and both are graced by characteristic Nelson Riddle arrangements. The waltz is distinctly reminiscent of an arrangement that Riddle would soon do for Frank Sinatra at Capitol (which I can't place at the moment). Prophet sounds quite at home, smooth, confident and in excellent voice. He was a true talent.

Buddy Clark

This is the 100th anniversary of the birth of the great vocalist Buddy Clark. (Thanks to Will Friedwald for that intelligence.) To mark the occasion, I've uploaded one of his 1948 singles, which I recently acquired.

On one side, Buddy takes on Leon René's "Gloria", a song that later became a doo-wop favorite. I have to say I prefer Ronnie Deauville's hypersensitive interpretation, but this is a good one, too. The flip is Harold Rome's "The Money Song", from the show That's the Ticket. The one was also recorded by Martin and Lewis, and Clark's rendition is to be preferred to that raucous affair.

Buddy Clark

On both sides, Clark has the backing of two notable singing groups, the well-known Modernaires, and the Skylarks, who also recorded with Bing Crosby, Tommy Dorsey and others, and were often on American television.

Clark died in a 1949 plane crash, at the peak of his popularity. It's a shame he isn't better remembered.

The sound on these sides is good. I think this may be the only green-label Columbia promo 78 I own (the rest of them are white). Love the crew cut DJ on these labels.

Jeri Southern - What Do You See in Her

Another "orphaned" Jeri Southern track - by that I mean a song that didn't appear on LP and hasn't been reissued, to my knowledge (which can be faulty, admittedly).

It's a good one - "What Do You See in Her" - well suited to Southern's typical approach. It's on the flip side of "An Occasional Man," which if not a hit, at least made it into the Billboard Top 100 in 1955.

Composer Frank Weldon may be best known for "Christmas in Killarney." Lyricist Hal David worked with Burt Bacharach for many years.

Frank Merriweather directs the orchestra, and the Decca sound is good.

There are two collections of Jeri Southern singles on my other blog, Big 10-Inch Record. Another orphaned track, "Querida," appeared here recently.

Cоветская Mузыка (Soviet Music)

I have labelled this above "Soviet Music," and it did originate in the Soviet Union, but the music is still being heard today in Russia and other countries. What we have here is the Brass Band of the USSR Ministry of Defense playing the socialist hymn, "The Internationale," and the National Anthem of the Soviet Union, which now has been adopted as the National Anthem of Russia. (The words are different, but that's a moot point with this instrumental version.)

One wouldn't expect socialist hymns and national anthems to be turning up on 45s, but this one did, courtesy of Melodiya, the Soviet state record company. It has a nice picture sleeve with Karl Marx to the fore and Soviet artwork on the rear. I would guess this dates from around 1980. The Band, conducted by one N. Nazarov, recorded all the anthems from the Soviet republics.

This is an enjoyable record; the performances are splendid. The sound is typical Melodiya style - somewhat distant and resonant.

The Kirby Stone Four and Ed Sullivan, 'Boy Singer'

The Kirby Stone Four were a late 50s-early 60s pop group who often appeared on Ed Sullivan's televised variety show in the US. Sullivan, a former New York newspaper columnist, made a uniquely stiff MC. He would stand with arms folded, which at the end of an act would erupt into sweeping arm motions as he exhorted the audience, "C'mon, let's hear it for these boys, now!" This was one of the set of catchphrases that Sullivan employed on each show (this would have made for a great drinking game, come to think of it).

Sullivan's pronounced mannerisms made him a prime subject for impressionists - any number of which appeared on Sullivan's own show. "We've got a really big show for you tonight" was his top catchphrase, at least for the impressionists, who invariably pronounced "show" as "shew".

Ed Sullivan

Kirby Stone Four

In 1958, Sullivan got together with the Kirby Stone Four to do this novelty number, written by Stone and Mike Gardner, another member of the group. Sullivan is identified as "boy singer" on both sides of the record, even though he only appears on "It's a Really Big Show Tonight," and does not sing even there. The song pokes mild fun at Sullivan's mannerisms and his love for spectacle on his program ("We've got World War II with the original cast," as the lyrics have it).

On the other side of the record the group combines "Whispering" with "Groovin' High," the Dizzy Gillespie bop anthem that was based on the older song's chords. In this, they perhaps were inspired by Lambert, Hendricks and Ross, who had achieved some notice for vocal versions of jazz tunes beginning in 1957. The Kirby Stone group is much smoother (and blander) that LH&R, traits accentuated by Columbia's overuse of reverb on the vocals. This side (but not the Sullivan side) appears on the group's 1958 LP Baubles, Bangles and Beads.

Peggy Glanville-Hicks and 'Music Before Columbus'

This is one of the more high-class promotional records I have come across. It was issued in advance of an October 1957 exhibition of pre-Columbian musical instruments at New York's Andre Emmerich Gallery.

To mark that occasion, Emmerich put out this 7-inch, 33-rpm record in a gatefold sleeve. One side is an introduction to the exhibition (and the artworks) by CBS commentator Charles Collingwood, an art collector. The other contains music for the old instruments commissioned from Australian composer Peggy Glanville-Hicks. For some reason, they called the exhibition "Music Before Columbus," which would lead you to think you would hear ancient music - not something newly composed.

P. Glanville-Hicks

The Collingwood commentary is useful, although romanticized (the indigenous pre-Columbian peoples of Mexico are just like us? I think not). The brief Glanville-Hicks suite of a prelude and presto is attractive and well presented by a group including flutist Samuel Baron, who seemingly played on every other classical record made in New York in the 50s.

Charles Collingwood

Why Glanville-Hicks (whom Collingwood calls a "young composer" - she was 45 in 1957)? Well, she was a critic for the New York Herald-Tribune at the time - that might have something to do with it.

I don't want to seem cynical - the Emmerich Gallery was a distinguished institution, with a specialty in pre-Columbian art. And what they produced is enjoyable, and using art in service of promotion was laudable.

Jeri Southern - Querida

I recently acquired a 78 by Jeri Southern containing what I believe is another unre-released song, called "Querida". It is on the flip side of "Dancing on the Ceiling," which subsequently appeared on LP.

"Querida" is a good song, well sung by Southern. "Dancing on the Ceiling," one of the best Rodgers and  Hart songs, is a fine example of the singer's combination of intensity and inwardness.

Jeri Southern

The recording was made in New York in September 1952. Ex-big band arranger Norman Leyden leads the musicians.

Good sound, although there is some sibilance on Southern's vocal.

This is an addendum to the two sets of uncollected Southern singles available on my other blog, Big 10-Inch Record.

Don Elliott and Tom Talbert

West Coast style jazz wasn't always made on the West Coast; here is a New York based ensemble playing in the cool style in 1952. This record is from the first session led by multi-instrumentalist Don Elliott, here performing on the trumpet, vibes, and the wonderfully named "mellophone," a type of tenor horn.

I suspect this 78 is also one of the first sessions for arranger Tom Talbert, who was to achieve a small amount of renown later in the decade for his own LP "Bix Duke Fats" and his arrangements for the excellent Patty McGovern vocal LP "Wednesday's Child." (I have both of these, but I think they are available on CD.) Talbert was from the West Coast but moved East to seek more opportunities.

One key influence on the West Coast sound was the so-called "Birth of the Cool" recordings led by Miles Davis and arranged by Gil Evans in 1949-50. The B side of this record is "Darn That Dream," which had been recorded (although in a Kenny "Pancho" Hagood vocal rendition) during the Birth sessions.

Elliott, a favorite of this blogger, recorded fairly prolifically during the 1950s, but later concentrated on production music and recording. In addition to his instrumental prowess, he was a fine singer, although that skill is not displayed here.

These sides and some others by Cal Tjader were later collated on a Savoy LP. The sound is fairly good.

Molly Picon

Molly Picon was about 50 when these recordings were made circa 1947, but she was already a legendary figure on both the Yiddish- and English-language stage. She had had her own theatre for many years and had already starred in a play based on her own life.

Picon specialized in comedic and sentimental roles, but also had a vaudeville act and was heard on radio. She later appeared on American television into the 1970s.

"Busy Busy," one of her most famous numbers, is a good introduction to her art. In it, Picon gives us a day in the life of a shopgirl, from the moment she gets up, through a subway ride, entanglements at work, and a night out at the fights. The humor and music are entirely expected, but completely charming.

While "Busy Busy" is primarily in English, with mainly familiar Yiddish terms thrown in, the flip side ("Believe It or Not") is entirely in Yiddish. I have no idea what it is about, but it involves a shiksa.

Abe Ellstein was a noted composer and conductor who accompanied Picon for many years.

Banner Records was formed to issue products for the Jewish market in 1946, was active for a few years, then reactivated in the early 1950s. The sound on this record is fair and the pressing is a bit noisy.

Margaret Whiting Sings Jimmy Clanton

I've written often about the fate of pop vocalists as the 50s wound on. In the constant quest for hits, they broadened their repertoire to encompass country, gospel, rhythm & blues, novelty songs, and anything else that seemed to have any chance of succeeding with the increasingly inscrutable record-buying public.

The superb pop singer Margaret Whiting was an old hand at this, having had success with country songs as far back as the 40s, especially in duets with former cowboy star Jimmy Wakely. In 1958, she had moved to Dot records, and was covering country hits and doing fairly well at it. Her offering for July was, however, something a little different - a cover of "Just a Dream" by the Baton Rouge teen singer Jimmy Clanton.

Neither Maggie nor the musicians are entirely comfortable with the song nor the New Orleans style arrangement. (Objectively it isn't a very good song, although wonderfully convincing in Clanton's version.) They are much more at home with the flip side, the rhythm song "Pretty-Eyed Baby", which has been recorded by any number of artists and was a mild hit for Jo Stafford and Frankie Laine in 1951.

I think these are non-LP songs, but I don't have access to my collection, so can't be sure.

Dancing with Napoleon XIV

I've had this promo record for quite some time, and always assumed it was by an obscure pop vocalist. (Jerry Simms looks like an obscure pop vocalist, doesn't he?) Then I decided to listen to it, and discovered it is actually a mild form of rock 'n' roll. And when I looked into the identity of Jerry Simms, I discovered something completely unexpected - Simms (real name Jerry Samuels) later became Napoleon XIV.

For those not tuned in to mid-60s American popular music, Napoleon XIV was responsible for an unlikely hit in 1966 titled "They're Coming to Take Me Away, Ha Haaa!" As may be apparent, this was a novelty song, and it told the tale of the singer being removed "to the funny farm, where life is beautiful all the time." It was fully as tasteless as it sounds. (However, I did enjoy the title of one of his other songs, "Photogenic, Schizophrenic You".)

This 1959 single, in contrast, does not deal with mental health issues, rather dancing - "Dancing Partners" and "Dancing with a Memory" - and displays all the usual influences of the time - Elvis, calypso, doo-wop, big-voice belters and even a little Nashville sound. It's actually a reasonably good record.

Diz Sings for the Butchers of America

I love records of jazz musicians singing, so I was happy to acquire this Dizzy Gillespie effort a while back. The title "Hey Pete" sounded familiar to me, but I couldn't place it. Turns out I have heard it before, and the full lyrics are as follows:

"Hey Pete, let's eat more meat.
"Hey Pete, let's eat more meat.
"Cause the meat from the Texas cows is cheap."

These are shouted by the ensemble (apparently led by Diz) in the time-dishonored band vocal style. It has a certain jaunty character, but not enough to give one an impression of Gillespie's prowess as a vocalist. (He would, however, undoubtedly be effective in a butcher shop.)

Otherwise, it is a lively bop item with a spectacular solo by the leader. The other side, "One Alone," is NOT the aria from The Desert Song, but rather a dull bop ballad. Better they should have done the Romberg.

These items were recorded in May 1954 in New York's Fine Sound Studios, with the following personnel: Hank Mobley (ts) Wade Legge (p) Lou Hackney (b) Charlie Persip (d). "Hey Pete" also appeared on the LP "Dizzy Gillespie and His Orchestra." Another take of "One Alone" was on "Diz and Getz" even though Stan is not the man on tenor here.

Oh, and I was familiar with "Hey Pete" because Dizzy had recorded it five years earlier for RCA Victor.

This record has now been remastered in meaty ambient stereo.