Showing posts with label Barbara Carroll. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Barbara Carroll. Show all posts

24 April 2025

The Early Sylvia Syms, Vol. 1

Sylvia Syms was a remarkably good singer, especially early in her career. Today at the instigation of friend and vocal connoisseur Dave Federman, I'm starting a series that will present Sylvia's first three LPs, plus a bonus item or two.

Dave actually asked me for Syms' third album, but I think it's best to do these things in my usual chronological order, which gives the blog a veneer of orderliness not otherwise found in my affairs.

About Sylvia Syms

Sylvia Syms
Born Sylvia Blagman in Brooklyn, Syms (1917-92) was a club singer in New York throughout the 1940s. Her first records were for the small DeLuxe label in 1947. (Those records have not surfaced so far in my searches.) 

She was both an actor and a singer; her best-known part was as Bloody Mary in South Pacific. Her booming contralto, good cheer and depth of feeling must have made her perfect for the role. Those qualities are in evidence in this collection.

Syms was well regarded throughout her career, without ever becoming well known - or if her friend the pianist Barbara Carroll is to be believed, without working all that often. The vocalist died on stage at the Oak Room in the Algonquin Hotel, doing what she did so well.

As is often the case with singers who made their livings in smoke-filled clubs, her voice was freshest when she was younger, Her best-known LP is a late one - Syms by Sinatra, conducted by her great admirer Frank Sinatra, who otherwise only led LPs for Alec Wilder, Peggy Lee and Dean Martin. But her best records are from the 1950s.

Songs by Sylvia Syms (10-inch version)

Sylvia made two 10-inch LPs, both of which will appear here. It's not clear which was first - they both date from about 1952 - but let's start with the better known of the two: Songs by Sylvia Syms on Atlantic, which at the time had a substantial roster of New York club singers along with its formidable R&B contingent. The album was later expanded into a 12-inch LP, which we'll get to in the next section.

This record - at least the 10-inch version of it - was recorded in the early hours of March 8, 1952, following Barbara Carroll's set with her trio (with Joe Shulman on bass and Herb Wasserman on drums). The group is excellent, if under recorded.

Barbara Carroll, Joe Shulman, Herb Wasserman

Syms, who is in strong voice, begins has set with a real find - "There's Something About an Old Love," by bandleader Will Hudson and Lupin Fein. It's a song that can sound sentimental, but here Sylvia brings an appealing wistfulness to her singing that elevates the piece.

Syms does the same for a much better-known composition - Porter's "Down in the Depths (On the Ninetieth Floor)." The premise can seem contrived, but Sylvia is so sincere and so into the lyrics that the artifice is dispelled. She begins with the almost never heard verse, which sets off the Latin-tinged chorus extremely well.

Syms then tempts fate by presenting an even more overexposed song - "Mountain Greenery." Here she shows her jazz ability through subtle shadings of both the melody line and the rhythms. Her good cheer is irresistible.

The Duke-Harburg "What Is There to Say" is another cabaret favorite, but again Syms' leisurely and well considered reading does full justice to the song, which comes from the Ziegfeld Follies of 1934.

"Imagination" was one of the first Johnny Burke-Jimmy Van Heusen songs. Dating from 1940, it was a hit for the Tommy Dorsey and Glenn Miller bands. Sylvia reveals the depths in the song.

Benny Carter's "Lonely Woman" is the prize of the LP. It's been said that the song was written for Syms. I'm not sure that is true; I've also read it was written in the 1930s. Whether or not intended for Sylvia, she certainly makes it her own. It's heart-rending.

Next, she shows her range with a rollicking version of "Can't You Just See Yourself." This comes from the 1947 musical High Button Shoes, set in 1913. Cahn and Styne's excellent song - although it does reflect the influence of "Surrey with the Fringe on Top," at least lyrically - is one of Syms' best performances. She bends the melody at the outset, letting us know she's about to have fun. And she does, clearly delighted by the prospect of imagining herself "in a gingham gown, little pink ribbons tied in my hair." Just a delight.

The Gershwins' soaring "Love Walked In" ends the program of the 10-inch LP. While Sylvia's reading is perfectly fine, it does lack some of the exhilaration implicit in Ira's lyrics.

Songs by Sylvia Syms (12-inch version)


In early 1954, Atlantic decided to expand the 10-inch album into the 12-inch format that was taking over the market. Apparently, the cover artist thought that the best way to attract an audience was to design a swirl such as you would see in the smallest room in your house.

For the four additional songs, Atlantic brought in a highly accomplished septet conducted and arranged by the talented Johnny Richards. They provide a perfect complement to the trio sounds heard on the 10-inch edition.

Johnny Richards

The songs were complementary as well, with Syms at her playful best throughout the set. First up is "Paradise," which can be best described as overheated in Sylvia's hands. This is rhythm singing at its finest. "Paradise" is a Nacio Herb Brown and Gordon Clifford item from 1931 that is generally sung so as to suggest great ardor in a romantic sense. With Syms, it's frankly sexual. The soloists are Al Cohn on tenor sax and Kai Winding on trombone.

"Comes Love" is now a standard, although it originated in a hayseed epic called Yokel Boy that ran for several months on Broadway in 1939. Charles Tobias, Lew Brown and Sam H. Stept were the songwriters, Judy Canova the singer. Syms wrings every bit of juice out of the number.

Murray Mencher and Billy Moll wrote "I Want a Little Girl" in 1930, a song that Sylvia turns into "I Want a Little Boy."

The final song added to the 12-inch version of the LP is No, No, Nanette's "Tea for Two," written by Vincent Youmans and Irving Caesar. Sylvia greatly manipulates the simplistic melody line, showing off her jazz ability.

Bonus Track - "Don't Wait up For Me"

Syms recorded four single tracks for Atlantic in November 1953. I located one on Internet Archive. It's a moody "I'm-leaving" song written by Sylvia's fellow cabaret performer Charles DeForest titled "Don't Wait Up for Me."

DeForest has appeared on my other blog with his early recordings for Bell.

Atlantic's label claims that Syms' accompaniment is by Larry Clinton and an orchestra, but that may not be so. At the time Clinton was recording for Bell. He backed DeForest on two songs and among others was the bandleader for a singer named Sylvia Sims. I have the records, and Sims is not Syms to my ears.

Whoever did the charts, they are well in tune with this sad song that is nonetheless effective.

DeForest and Syms also recorded for the short-lived Version label, which as far as I can tell only issued three albums. (The other was a reading of Balzac by deejay-announcer Ken Nordine. Version was a niche label.) My next Syms post will be her Version LP.

LINK

15 November 2024

Lee Wiley - The RCA Victor Recordings

If you asked me to choose my favorite Lee Wiley records, her various circa 1940 songbooks would be the winners. But these 1956-57 discs would not be far behind.

Today's post includes all the 26 songs she recorded for RCA Victor during those years. The singer was for the most part in prime form; it is regrettable that she made no more records for 15 years thereafter - and those were disappointments.

The Victors include two complete albums and part of another:
  • West of the Moon with Ralph Burns, from 1956
  • A Touch of the Blues with Billy Butterfield, from 1957
  • Two songs from a 1956 jazz miscellany issued under the name of TV host Dave Garroway. (The LP is included in full. It also has contributions from Barbara Carroll, Deane Kincaide, Helen Ward, Tito Puente and Peanuts Hucko.)
I've added a bonus EP, issued to promote a 1963 fictionalized television drama based on incidents in Wiley's life.

All items are from my collection. We'll start with the complete LPs, then circle back to the Garroway collection and the EP. 

West of the Moon

Wiley is in mostly commanding form throughout West of the Moon. She is surprisingly compatible with modernist arranger-conductor Ralph Burns, whose charts support her well - although I can't help but note that she seemed more attuned to the collective improvisations of the groups that backed her on the songbooks.

And in fact, she starts off with a song beloved of those throwback groups - "You're a Sweetheart," which I was intrigued to learn she had not recorded before. To me, Burns' repetitive arrangement is a disappointment, but the vocal is excellent.

Lee moves on unexpectedly to Kurt Weill's "This Is New," where she sounds uncomfortable with the melody line; a shame, it's a magnificent song from the score by Weill and Ira Gershwin for Lady in the Dark.

She's in more compatible territory with the bouncy "You Must Have Been a Beautiful Baby," a movie song from 1938 by Harry Warren and Johnny Mercer. There are good solos by Billy Butterfield and Peanuts Hucko.

Lee does the highly sophisticated "Who Can I Turn To?" soulfully, an apt tribute to a 1941 piece by Alec Wilder and William Engvick. It is the first song they wrote together.

Burns wrote a lovely chart for Richard Whiting's "My Ideal," and Wiley graces it by including the wonderfully contrasting verse. This would be near perfection except that Lee was not in prime voice.

She is great, however, in "Can't Get Out of This Mood," which Frank Loesser and Jimmy McHugh wrote for Ginny Simms and the 1942 film Seven Days' Leave. But be sure to hear Sarah Vaughan's 1950 Columbia recording.

Ralph Burns and Lee Wiley
"East of the Sun (and West of the Moon)" was the biggest hit for short-lived songwriter Brooks Bowman, who composed it for a Princeton show. Burns' gentle arrangement is just right for this song, which is usually done as a rhythm number.

Lee reached back to the 1920s for the Sammy Fain-Irving Kahal "I Left My Sugar Standing in the Rain," almost never heard these days. She includes the verse, which I'm not sure I've heard otherwise. The song has contrived lyrics, but a memorable melody. The singer is near ideal, and the backing is sympathetic. There's a notable solo by Lou McGarity on trombone.

"Moonstruck" is a high quality song written for Bing to warble in 1933's College Humor, but forgotten these days. It is characteristic Crosby material from the time - but Lee is persuasive as well. The arrangement for the Arthur Johnston-Sam Coslow song is subtly done.

Like "This Is New," "Limehouse Blues" was introduced by Gertrude Lawrence. She performed it with Jack Buchanan in the 1921 West End revue A to Z. It's a fascinating song, although wildly dated, and Burns can't resist including the usual chinoiserie. The song is set up beautifully by the seldom-performed verse.

Wiley and Burns also use the verse to good effect in "As Time Goes By" - again, it leads into the the famous chorus very well.

The LP is rounded off by a return to a Dixieland-type arrangement on Fats Waller-Andy Razaf's perennial "Keepin' Out of Mischief Now," an upbeat end to the proceedings.

The recording captures Wiley's voice truthfully, but the engineers did swaddle the band in too much reverb.

LINK to West of the Moon

A Touch of the Blues

I will admit to preferring the second album, A Touch of the Blues, on all counts - the arrangements by Al Cohn and Bill Finegan, Wiley's singing, the material and the quality of the sound.

Most of the songs are not standards, but are all the more welcome because of it. The first three selections date from as long ago as 1909.

Al Cohn
"The Memphis Blues" is a W.C. Handy song with lyrics by George Norton that is seldom if ever heard these days. Lee and the swinging Al Cohn chart make an strong argument for it.

"From the Land of the Sky-Blue Water" is another case. One of Charles Wakefield Cadman's Indianist works, it's a period piece that should have been left in the period. Wiley was of Native American descent, but the material is not suited to her.

When I first saw the title "The Ace in the Hole," I thought of the Cole Porter song that Mary Jane Walsh introduced in Let's Face It. But this is an earlier piece, and an interesting one at that. James Dempsey and George Mitchell were the authors.

Bill Finegan
Louis Armstrong was the fellow behind "Someday You'll Be Sorry," a good tune not often heard. Bill Finegan's arrangement is entirely supportive. Most enjoyable, with Lee at ease.

"My Melancholy Baby" is certainly well known. Dating back to 1912, it was written by Ernie Burnett and George A. Norton (although Ben Light claimed he was the composer). By the time Wiley recorded it, the piece had become something of a punch line because of its use in the 1954 version of A Star Is Born, where a drunken heckler yells for Judy Garland to "sing Melancholy Baby." (Ex-vaudeville trouper William Frawley - Fred Mertz on I Love Lucy - claimed to have introduced the number. For the curious, his recording has appeared here.) As often on these records, Wiley graces the song by including the verse.

Billy Butterfield
She does not do so, however, for "A Hundred Years from Today," although the composition does have a beautiful introduction by trumpeter Billy Butterfield, who leads the band on the LP. This fine song is the handiwork of Victor Young (Lee's early mentor), Ned Washington and Joe Young.

I really enjoy Benny Carter's "Blues in My Heart," which suits Wiley perfectly. Finegan's sparse arrangement is tailored to the subject matter. Butterfield has a striking obbligato.

"Maybe You'll Be There" is one of Rube Bloom's best songs, with a sensitive lyric by Sammy Gallop. Cohn provides a simple arrangement. The present recording is good, but it will not make you forget Sinatra's recording of the same year, made with Gordon Jenkins.

"Between the Devil and the Deep Blue Sea," a celebrated number by Arlen and Koehler, is nicely done. This cut is marred by the strangely pinched sound of the muted trumpets.

Frank Loesser and Jule Styne were eminent musicians, but "I Don't Want to Walk Without You" was most effective in its period as a war song. Wiley doesn't seem all that involved.

"Make Believe" is one of the last songs I would have identified with Lee; it's a soaring, quasi-operetta piece that is one of Kern's greatest creations. She does pull it off, but she, Cohn and Butterfield never seem completely happy with the material.

The title song is another matter altogether. "A Touch of the Blues" is a lost gem from Eddie Wilcox, the pianist of the Jimmy Lunceford band, with words by Don George. A good Cohn arrangement, too.

The sound is generally very good, widely spaced early stereo.

LINK to A Touch of the Blues

Dave Garroway Presents the Wide, Wide World of Jazz

The name of this 1956 various artists LP, Dave Garroway Presents the Wide, Wide World of Jazz, was suggested by Garroway being the host of a television show called Wide, Wide World. And the songs do all relate to world locales.

The title is misleading, though, in that it presents a narrow view of jazz, with the exception of Tito Puente's presence. The other artists were from the vocal, Dixieland, swing and piano trio subgenres, and the same musicians play on most of the selections.

Lee Wiley was allotted two of the numbers, both accompanied by Deane Kincaide's Dixieland Band, which also performed two other songs sans vocal.

Deane Kincaide
"Do You Know What It Means to Miss New Orleans?", a late example of the longing-for-the-South genre that was so common in the first half of the 20th century, is an excellent song, here in a knowing performance by Wiley and Kincaide's forces. The piece comes from 1946, Louis Alter and Eddie DeLange.

We're back in the South for "Stars Fell on Alabama," a 1934 composition by Mitchell Parish and Frank Perkins. Lee is mostly relaxed and effective, although she strains to hit the highest notes. I do enjoy the arrangement, presumably by Kincaide. The vocalist is at her best in these surroundings, I think.

A few words about the other performers and songs:

Deane Kincaide's Dixieland Band - Kincaide's band has lively outings with Jelly Roll Morton's "Chicago Breakdown" and "Kansas City Stomp." Note that the "Dixieland Band" includes Billy Butterfield, Cutty Cutshall, Peanuts Hucko and Lou Stein, who also are in Hucko's Swing Band, discussed next.

Peanuts Hucko
Peanuts Hucko's Swing Band - I don't mean to imply that Hucko's band is bad - far from it. They have spirited outings with the Gus Kahn-Isham Jones "Spain" and Frank Loesser's "Wonderful Copenhagen" (written for the Danny Kaye film of Hans Christian Anderson). I enjoy this band, and may work up a post devoted to the LP that it recorded with Helen Ward.

Helen Ward
Helen Ward - Hucko's band backs ex-Goodman, James and Hal McIntyre singer Ward on two numbers: Louis Alter's "Manhattan Serenade" and the Gershwins' "A Foggy Day." Ward was a characterful singer whom I enjoy, although her intonation and control here were not impeccable.

Tito Puente
Tito Puente - It's good that Victor included Tito Puente under the jazz rubric, because he did profess to produce "jazz with a Latin touch," had just produced an LP called Puente Goes Jazz, and employed many jazz musicians, including Bernie Glow and Dave Schildkraut on this date. The songs are "Flying Down to Rio" by Youmans and Kahn and arranger Chico O'Farrill's "Havana After Dark."

Barbara Carroll
Barbara Carroll - The fluent pianist and her trio do well with "California, Here I Come" and Carroll's own "Paris Without You." She made several LPs for Victor in this period.

Most of these songs were otherwise unreleased, to my knowledge. "Flying Down to Rio" does appear on Puente's 1957 Night Beat LP, and "A Foggy Day" can also be found on Peanuts Hucko's With a Little Bit of Swing, released in 1958.

The sound is excellent on this LP.

LINK to Dave Garroway Presents the Wide, Wide World of Jazz

Something About Lee Wiley

Events in Wiley's life were the subject of the 1963 television drama Something About Lee Wiley, an episode in the NBC anthology series Bob Hope Presents the Chrysler Theatre.

Piper Laurie played Wiley, with Joy Bryan dubbing her singing voice. I haven't seen the show, but it apparently deals with the time Lee fell from a horse and was temporarily blinded, and with her acrimonious marriage to pianist Jess Stacy.

Chrysler put out a promotional EP for the program. Rather than including songs from the episode, it contains two numbers from the West of the Moon LP - "East of the Sun" and "Can't Get Out of This Mood" - contrasted with two of Lee's earliest sides, both made as a band singer with Leo Reisman - "(Got the) South in My Soul" from 1931 and "Time on My Hands" from 1932.

LINK to Something About Lee Wiley