Les Brown - Coral Singles 1951-54

Bandleader Les Brown recorded a large number of singles for the Coral label from 1951-54. I thought we might have a look at some of the more neglected items. Most of these never appeared on a Coral LP, or were only reissued much later. The collection includes 17 songs, and heavily features the exceptional vocalist Lucy Ann Polk.

Indeed, Polk appears on the first several cuts, starting with "Very Good Advice," the Sammy Fain-Bob Hilliard song written for Disney's Alice in Wonderland film. In my post devoted to that film's songs, I included the flip side of Brown's record, with Lucy Ann's terrific "'Twas Brillig." (That post included the Peggy King-Ralph Flanagan version of "Very Good Advice.") This record has a brief trombone solo that is probably by Polk's husband Dick Noel.

The second selection also comes from a film, Bing's Just for You - the wonderful "In the Cool, Cool, Cool of the Evening." Polk is great, but please hear Crosby and Jane Wyman on the original cast LP. Hoagy Carmichael and Johnny Mercer were the authors. On the Brown record, we hear an opening solo from pianist Jeff Clarkson.

In "If You Turn Me Down," Lucy Ann threatens to go off to Missouri and live with a floppy-eared mule (or something). Peter De Rose and Carl Sigman wrote this novelty. The singer was actually from Idaho, and broke into the business as part of the sibling act the Town Criers, who worked with Kay Kyser and other bands. You can hear them with Tommy Dorsey here.

Lucy Ann Polk

There have been several songs with the title "Let It Be" - the Beatles among others - but this is a gospel-tinged item that Lucy Ann shares with the Mellomen. That's the group's bass, Thurl Ravenscroft, at the opening.

"Who's Excited" was originally a Johnny Hodges instrumental, which appeared on the alto saxophonist's 1951 LP Johnny Hodges Collates. Johnny Mercer added lyrics, and the result is this Lucy Ann Polk vocal. The Four Hits provide backing.

Lucy Ann leaves the stage for a moment so we can hear two songs with one of the busiest singing groups of the day, Jud Conlon's Rhythmaires, which I believe featured two of the best female vocalists of the time - Loulie Jean Norman and Gloria Wood. 

Their first song is the lamentable "Kiss of Fire," a hit for Georgia Gibbs that year (1952). Lester Allen and Robert Hill took credit for the number, which actually was the 1903 Argentine tango "El Choclo" with overheated lyrics. Allen and Hill did not bother to credit Ángel Villoldo, who wrote the tune.

Jud Conlon's Rhythmaires: Mack McLean,
Loulie Jean Norman, Conlon,
Gloria Wood, Charlie Parlato

The flip side was another cover, this time of Kay Starr's "I Waited a Little Too Long," which was written by dancer-singer-actor Donald O'Connor and Sid Miller. The Rhythmaires are exemplary here, the band swings, Dick Noel (probably) and guitarist Tony Rizzi are heard.

We take a break from the vocals with "You Forgot Your Gloves," an instrumental with a Frank Comstock chart. Jeff Clarkson and Rizzi do a Shearing-style solo, following by a tenor sax break that is probably Dave Pell. The song was introduced by Jerry Norris and Constance Carpenter in the 1931 revue The Third Little Show. Ed Eliscu and Ned Rehak were the songwriters.

Lucy Ann Polk returns with Cole Porter's "My Heart Belongs to Daddy," which was introduced by Mary Martin in 1938. Lucy Ann is a fine successor to Martin. Van Alexander, Frank Comstock and Wes Hensel all had a hand in the arrangement.

Dave Pell

Another instrumental, this one a mambo called "Montoona Clipper" by trumpeter Hensel, was a staple of the book at the time, and can be heard here in another version. The band's collective skill and precision are notable on this number, as elsewhere. Dave Pell gets a label credit for his tenor solo.

Next, two charts by the estimable Skip Martin, starting with an instrumental version of "How About You?" which is missing the ecstatic Judy Garland vocal heard in Babes on Broadway but little else. Burton Lane and Ralph Freed were the authors.

Lucy Ann Polk is at the microphone for "Back in Your Own Back Yard," which dates from 1928 and is associated with co-writer Al Jolson, although Ruth Etting recorded it first. This is Polk's final appearance in the set; she soon would leave the band to go solo. The splendid Jo Ann Greer replaced her.

The song "Ruby" was a hit in 1953 for Richard Hayman and Les Baxter, and Brown's polished performance also made a brief appearance on the charts. The piece was adapted from Heinz Roemheld's theme for the film Ruby Gentry, with lyrics by Mitchell Parish added.

"Invitation" is another film theme, and a particularly beautiful one, written by Bronislaw Kaper. The brilliant alto saxophonist Ronnie Lang has a solo, as do guitarist Bobby Gibbons and Jeff Clarkson. Frank Comstock's arrangement has overtones of the sound that has come to be called "crime jazz." 

Bandleader Maxwell Davis' "Hotpoint" is next. This rocking riff tune is done marvelously well by the talented ensemble.

Butch Stone

Mambos were big at the time, and mambo popularizer Sonny Burke came up with the novelty "They Were Doing the Mambo" with lyricist Don Raye. This was just the right material for saxophonist-vocalist Butch Stone, who plays the fumble-footed wallflower to perfection - "They were doing the mambo / While I just stood around," he complains. I am usually immune to Stone's charms, but this is a fun number. "What kind of dance is this that doesn't have a caller?" he asks plaintively. Even the band vocal is effective.

The final item in our set is another mambo - the "St. Louis Blues Mambo." (Hey, Glenn Miller turned Handy's classic into a march, so why not a mambo?) Wes Hensel was the arranger.

Les Brown had a superb band with tight ensemble, capable soloists and vocalists, and a varied and stimulating book, shown throughout this set. 

The 78 originals here come from Internet Archive needle drops, suitably remastered in ambient stereo and sounding glorious.

LINK

'Twas Brillig - The Songs of 'Alice in Wonderland'

The idea of doing an animated or hybrid live action/animation version of the perennially popular Alice in Wonderland - or as its author, Lewis Carroll called it, Alice's Adventures in Wonderland - was in the back of Walt Disney's mind for many years before he got around to producing the famous 1951 film.

Lewis Carroll

Before Disney's film, there had been at least six film versions (not counting a few shorts by Walt himself), and two television productions, including one that aired while the 1951 film version was in production.

In the 1940s, Disney had contemplated a live-action/animated version with Ginger Rogers in the title role. This did not come to pass, but Rogers (a strange choice) recorded some Victor Young-Frank Luther songs for the project. The resulting album can be found here.

Bob Hilliard and Sammy Fain

In 1946, Disney asked the well-known Mack David, Al Hoffman and Jerry Livingston to work up some Alice songs, as they had done for Cinderella. Only one was eventually used - "The Unbirthday Song." Disney's next choice was the pairing of Sammy Fain and Bob Hilliard. Composer Fain had only just started working with the lyricist, but they already had a success with "Dear Hearts and Gentle People." Their songs ultimately became the backbone of the film's score, although the teams of Cy Coben-Oliver Wallace, Don Raye-Gene de Paul and Mack David-Jerry Livingston-Al Hoffman also contributed excellent numbers.

Despite the film's patchwork of composers, the songs from Alice hold together very well, and were taken up by some of the best performers of the day. As such they make for a entertaining playlist, which I've put together for you. This set does not include anything from the soundtrack itself, which Disney did not get around to issuing until the CD era.

Here are the Alice songs, presented in the order of their appearance in the film, with one exception. All numbers are by Fain and Hilliard unless noted otherwise.

I hope I don't get too many details of the film wrong: I haven't seen Alice since I was seven. And that was a while ago.

'Alice in Wonderland'

Alice

The idea for doing this post actually originated in one of my items devoted to the superb vocalist Stuart Foster. I was mightily impressed by the recording he made with Hugo Winterhalter of Alice's title song. This dreamy reverie perfectly sets off the more eccentric songs in the score.

At the risk of repeating myself, I've included the Foster-Winterhalter recording to start off this collection.

'I'm Late'

The White Rabbit

Danny Kaye

The lament of the White Rabbit - "I'm Late" - was for many years the most often heard song from the score. Here is a version by Danny Kaye, whose ability to sing very fast while conveying comic neurosis is perfect for the Rabbit. The clever lyrics are a big help, of course. Dave Terry conducted the band for this Coral recording.

Kaye makes two return appearances below.

'How D'Ye Do and Shake Hands'

One of these is Tweedledee, the other Tweedledum

The next two songs are given over to the ever-popular Tweedledee and Tweedledum. Their first number is the wacky "How D'Ye Do and Shake Hands." It's an item that did have some currency on the televised variety shows of the time because it lends itself to an ensemble presentation.

Two of the leading labels of the day - RCA Victor and Decca - gathered four of their biggest names to have a go at it. I've included both recordings, hopefully not trying your patience in the process.

RCA's effort starred Betty Hutton, Dinah Shore, Phil Harris and Tony Martin - two who specialized in comic songs (Hutton and Harris) and two who did not. Phil and Betty come off better; the other two sound a little embarrassed to be there. Henri René led the band with "horns by courtesy of Spike Jones."

Jimmy, Jane, Groucho

The competition from Decca started off with the ever-present Danny Kaye, adding Jimmy Durante and Groucho Marx. The fourth voice belonged to Jane Wyman, who not only could sing, but was adept with comic numbers - as she proved that same year with her duet with Bing on "In the Cool, Cool, Cool of the Evening" in Here Comes the Groom.

The Decca recording, with Sonny Burke leading the band, is the better of the two. Thanks to my pal Ernie for bringing these to my attention!

'The Walrus and the Carpenter'

Danny Kaye returns with another Tweedledum/dee specialty, their tale of the "The Walrus and the Carpenter," a setting of a Carroll poem. The backing is again by Dave Terry.

Carroll's off-center approach to words was perfect for Kaye - the carpenter and walrus are on a beach, and the carpenter assures the walrus, "We'll sweep this clear / In 'alf a year, / If you don't mind the work!"

'All in the Golden Afternoon'

"All in the Golden Afternoon" is the preface poem to Carroll's book, but in the film Fain's setting is used for a scene with Alice and the flowers.

Kukla, Burr, Ollie and Fran

"Golden Afternoon" inspired commercial recordings by Rosemary Clooney and Anne Shelton, but I have chosen the version by a sentimental favorite, Fran Allison, working with Wayne King's orchestra. Allison was the "Fran" in Kukla, Fran and Ollie, Burr Tillstrom's puppet show that was a favorite of early TV viewers, especially me.

Allison was not a great singer - not as good as Clooney or Shelton, anyway - but her vocalizing here is charming.

'Twas Brillig

We're in a different world altogether with the next song, "'Twas Brillig," which was allotted to the Cheshire Cat and his perma-grin. (Parenthetically, there are many explanations of the genesis of the phrase, "grinning like a Cheshire cat," but it's clear the expression and character did not originate with Carroll.)

The song was borrowed from Carroll's Alice follow-up Through the Looking Glass. The author called it "Jabberwocky," but the film goes by its first words, "'Twas Brillig," which continues, "and the slithy toves / Did gyre and gimble in the wabe". It's often called a nonsense poem, but Carroll's initial version was a send-up of Old English. Nonsense or not, the poem did contribute at least two words to the dictionary - "chortled" and "galumphing," both favorites of mine.

Lucy Ann Polk

"'Twas Brillig" being a sort of Victorian jive talk, it appealed to some of the musicians of the mid-20th century. Hollywood songwriters Don Raye and Gene de Paul set it to music, and a nice job they did of it, too. I've included the fine recording by Les Brown's band, with a accomplished vocal from the talented Lucy Ann Polk. This is one of the best things in the collection. The Brown record makes use of only the first stanza of Carroll's poem. (The complete poem and more about its language can be found here.)

'The Unbirthday Song'

Alice at tea with the Hatter and Hare

A second number that found some life outside of the film was "The Unbirthday Song," another clever piece, this one given to the Mad Hatter and the March Hare. It was contributed by the popular songwriters Mack David, Jerry Livingston and Al Hoffman.

I've chosen the version by Rosemary Clooney, one of the four Alice songs she recorded for Columbia's children's label. Rosie can seem perfunctory in kiddie material, but she gets this one right. Percy Faith leads the band.

'Very Good Advice'

Peggy King

"Very Good Advice" is Alice's song of disillusionment. She fears she won't return home, and sings, "I give myself very good advice / But I very seldom follow it / That explains the trouble that I'm always in."

Here, too, we turn to the big band ranks for the RCA recording by Ralph Flanagan and his orchestra, with a vocal by Peggy King, 20 years old and sounding younger. Her simple approach is right for the song, one of the best by Fain and Hilliard.

You may note on the record label that King was spelling her first name "Pegge" early in her career. One of her few LPs is available here.

'Painting the Roses Red'

Fred Waring

Alice encounters playing cards who are busying themselves by painting the roses red. Why? Because they mistakenly planted white roses and the Queen of Hearts prefers red. (She catches on anyway and has them beheaded - which is her impulse on most occasions. This may seem to be a not-very-oblique commentary on Queen Victoria, but it's said that she loved the book.)

The abbreviated version here is from the song-storybook by Fred Waring and His Pennsylvanians, a polished production for Decca.

'The March of the Cards'

The Three Suns

I am not the biggest fan of the Three Suns, but their foursquare approach to music suits "The March of the Cards." (The Three Suns were reportedly the favorite group of noted hipster Mamie Eisenhower.) The Sammy Fain tune was taken up by a number of other artists - among them Arthur Fiedler and the Boston Pops, Waring and pianist Winifred Atwell.

This is the only strictly instrumental piece in this collection, and is well in keeping with the jaunty approach of some of the other selections.

From the top in the photo above are Artie Dunn, organ, Morty Nevins, accordion, and Al Nevins, guitar.

'In a World of My Own'

The song "In a World of My Own" is introduced at the beginning of the film, but the best version on record may be by Fred Waring's group, which segues into a reprise of the "Alice in Wonderland" theme music at the end of their set. For that reason, I've kept it in that place to close this collection, save for the bonus track below.

A Jazz Version of the Theme

Paul Desmond and Dave Brubeck

The "Alice in Wonderland" theme was unexpectedly popular with certain jazz musicians. I've capped this collection with Dave Brubeck's first recording of the composition, dating from 1952. He would return to it five years later for Columbia and a complete LP called Dave Digs Disney.

Brubeck's pianism often seemed labored, as it does here. But the compensation is the wonderful alto saxophonist Paul Desmond, who contributes a typically lyrical solo, drawing an evocative tone from an instrument that can sound shrill.

Disney's Alice in Wonderland is highly regarded today, but lost money at the box office on its initial release. Walt himself was unhappy with the product, thinking it had insufficient heart. One critic complained that it "utterly lacked enchantment." To me, the opposite is true - Disney's artists brought Carroll's wonderland to life with great skill. Gracing it all was a diverse score that nonetheless hangs together and is a entertaining complement to Carroll's story and the Disney storytellers.

These records are primarily from Internet Archive, as refurbished by me.

One final note - "Lewis Carroll" was a pen name. The author was in reality Rev. Charles Lutwidge Dodgson (1832-98), who was at once a clergyman, an Oxford don in mathematics, a poet, an author and a photographer. You may have noticed that the title card at the top of this post has a typo in Carroll's name.

Stuart Foster with Tommy Dorsey, Part 2

This is the second half of our look at the complete Stuart Foster recordings with Tommy Dorsey. Both this and the first installment are courtesy of vocal aficionado Bryan Cooper, who was kind enough to compile all 50 titles for us.

Previously, we covered recordings from 1945 and 1946. Today, we pick up with some additional 1946 dates, then add the 1947 discs that were the last from Foster's stay in the Dorsey band. Those final recordings were on December 27, 1947, just a few days before the second American Federation of Musicians recording ban began.

Completing the 1946 Recordings

Our first selection comes from a July 1946 session that also produced "Gotta Get Me Someone to Love," the desperate-sounding tune that completed Part 1 of this survey. "That's My Home" is another one of the cowhand specialties that were popular then. Tunesmith Sid Robin's first hit was "Just Because," a 1938 country tune that was to become a massive hit for polka-meister Frankie Yankovic in 1948.

In August, Foster and Dorsey produced "There Is No Breeze (To Cool the Flame of Love)," from composer Alex Alstone and lyricists Roger Bernstein and André Tabet, the team that produced the successful "Symphony" in 1945. "There Is No Breeze" did not start the charts on fire, but even so it is a pleasant item, here in an excellent, romantic performance.

The B-side of "There Is No Breeze" was "This Time," a nice if non-memorable Paul Weston tune here in a sterling performance by Foster that is thankfully not undermined by Dorsey's sluggish tempo.

By this time, Dorsey and crew had moved lock, stock arrangements and trombones to Hollywood, where Tommy and brother Jimmy were starring in The Fabulous Dorseys. Tommy made only one commercial recording of music from the film: "To Me," an Allie Wrubel-Don George piece. It was sung by Janet Blair in the pic, but here is done by Foster. Blair, a former Hal Kemp vocalist, played a singer in the film.

Tommy Dorsey, Janet Blair, Stuart Foster

Foster appears in the film; he gets to play it straight throughout "Marie" in the face of that horrifying invention of the time, the band vocal. The whole film is on YouTube (see below); Foster's vocal starts at about 1:12:55. In the clip, you will see a reaction shot from Dorsey's mother, played by Sara Allgood, who within 20 years had gone from the lead in O'Casey's Juno and the Paycock to beaming at "son" Tommy as the band shouts, "Livin' in a great big way, MAMA!"

From The Fabulous Dorseys, we move on to another Irish clan, the McLonergans, and two songs from the splendid Yip Harburg-Burton Lane score for Finian's Rainbow. Foster's first item from the show is "How Are Things in Glocca Morra?" The tempo is too slow, but still the performance has a lovely opening with a muted Dorsey, and a good vocal. Foster plays it straight; no dialect, thank goodness.

"Glocca Morra" is a wistful song, but "When I'm Not Near the Girl I Love" is both wry and sly. Too bad that Dorsey takes it much too slow, missing the humor in the piece.

The 1947 Recordings

For the first 1947 session, Foster tried his hand with two exceptional Cahn-Styne songs from Sinatra's latest film, It Happened in Brooklyn: "Time After Time" and "It Happens Every Spring." As was often the case, the tempo is too slow on both tunes. While these both have their moments, "Time After Time" needs more ardor and "It Happens" more snap.

Also from this January date came one of the less successful classical adaptations of the time - "A Thousand and One Nights" from Rimsky-Korsakov's Scheherazade. Both the arrangement and lyrics are undistinguished, but Foster and Dorsey do what they can.

The bandleader and singer were back in form for two songs recorded later in January. "My Love for You" has a pleasing melody that is right in Foster's sweet spot. But the better item is "Spring Isn't Everything," one terrific song, with a superior melody by Harry Warren and lyrics by Ralph Blane. It was written for Summer Holiday (filmed in 1946 but not released until 1948) but apparently not used. IMDb suggests there is an outtake with Walter Huston gargling the tune.

Acknowledging that the business was not what it once had been, Dorsey broke up his band early in 1947. But he would soon be back in business, and Foster would be with him.

After a several-month hiatus from recording, Dorsey returned in July with his new band and new vocal accomplices for Stuart Foster. They were the Town Criers, comprising four siblings: Elva, Lucy Ann, Gordon and Vernon Polk. Like the Sentimentalists, the Criers were a highly accomplished group, who already had worked with such bands as Kay Kyser and Bob Crosby.

The Town Criers flank Kay Kyser: Vernon, Elva, Lucy Ann, Gordon

After the Town Criers disbanded in 1948, Lucy Ann went on to become vocalist with Les Brown, and to make quite a few recordings. Our own Bryan Cooper, the savant behind these Foster-Dorsey posts, recently produced a superb two-CD set of all Lucy Ann's non-LP recordings. More information is here; you can order from Amazon.

Foster's first effort with the Polks was "I'll Be There," an OK Sam Stept song, taken (again) too slowly. Stept had had a recent success with "Don't Sit Under the Apple Tree."

Also from that July 1 session came "The Old Piano Tuner," "Deep Valley" and "Just an Old Love of Mine."

"The Old Piano Tuner" (any relation to "The Old Lamplighter" or "The Old Master Painter"?), is more light textured and spirited than some of the other songs in this compilation.

"Deep Valley" is taken from Max Steiner music from the movie of same name, with the addition of Charles Tobias lyrics. (I'm not sure if it was used in the film as such.) Deep Valley has quite the plot, in which Ida Lupino falls in love with an inmate workin' on a chain gang. The movie may have been melodramatic, but the song itself is more lively than much of the fare that Dorsey gave Foster to sing.

"Just an Old Love of Mine" is one of the best songs in the set: a Peggy Lee/Dave Barbour tune that they recorded for Capitol. Foster is impressive, as is Lucy Ann Polk in her solo chorus. An outstanding record.

"Old Chaperon" is in no way outstanfing, although it is well performed. This is one of the many ethnic items of the day, and Foster and Mae Williams enthusiastically adopt the appropriate (or inappropriate, depending on how you look at it) accents. This item has a spoken introduction by Dorsey, which Bryan lifted from one of Dorsey's radio shows. The bandleader had a regular spot on New York's WMCA at the time.

"Judaline" comes from A Date with Judy. It's an OK Don Raye/Gene de Paul song with a charming melody. The pitching is all over the place here.

In September, Dorsey recorded a six-song Tchaikovsky album, with Foster singing on four. Victor called the package Tchaikovsky Melodies for Dancing. I can't say I've had any desire to dance to the Pathetique Symphony, but Dorsey makes it work well enough.

"The Story of a Starry Night," the item derived from the Pathetique, is suited to Foster. "The Things I Love" is a reworking of a Mélodie Tchaikovsky wrote for violin and piano. Harold Barlow and Lewis Harris turned it into a catalog song, not especially well done lyrically.

The most popular of these adaptations was "None but the Lonely Heart," originally a setting by Tchaikovsky of a poem by Goethe, here wrung through the hands of Mack David, Al Hoffman and Jerry Livingston. I do like the chugging dance beat, although it doesn't really go with the sentiment that "None but the lonely heart can know my sadness."

The final item was popularized by Larry Clinton, who had produced perhaps the first big-band classical hit with "My Reverie" in 1938. His 1939 follow-up, "Our Love," was adapted from Tchaikovsky's Romeo and Juliet. The 1947 Dorsey version starts with the bandleader's trombone, and Foster handles the superfluous words in good fashion.

The September sessions also encompassed a tune called "Let's Pick Up," a generic ballad with  rhyming-book lyrics, although in a good performance by the vocalist and band.

In contrast, the next recording session featured one of the best songs of the era. "Where Is the One," recorded in December, is a brilliant Alec Wilder song with a superior Edwin Finckel lyric. The Clark Sisters (billed as such, not under their former Dorsey name "The Sentimentalists") lead off. The Clarks are always welcome, but I am not sure it was the best idea to start the arrangement with them. That sets an impersonal tone for a very inward song. Foster is outstanding here, on one of his last dates with Dorsey.

The next item couldn't be more different. Dorsey and arranger Sy Oliver decided to have fun with the oldie "Let Me Call You Sweetheart." Some clipped phrasing from tightly muted brass lends an old-timey air to the proceedings. Foster plays it straight in the face of the dreadful vocal counterpoint from the band. There is a real, live instrumental solo on this side, perhaps the only non-TD chorus in this set. Too bad it's not one of the best I've heard from the usually reliable tenor Boomie Richman.

For Foster's final Dorsey record, Tommy sent him back into Sinatra territory with "The Miracle of the Bells," the theme music from one of Frank's least remembered films, in which he plays a priest (!), not as successfully as Crosby's forays into the same territory. The music here is by Pierre Norman, with words from Russell Janney, who wrote the story. Sinatra himself did not record the tune, turning his attentions instead to the torporific "Ever Homeward," one of Cahn and Styne's few stinkers.

That effort completes our survey of Foster's recordings with Dorsey. Thanks again to Bryan Cooper for his contribution, which allows us to hear this talented singer during the period of his greatest popularity. For more of Foster, please see this post covering his later singles - and of course the first installment in the Dorsey series.

 

Foster with vocalist Martha Wright and DJ William B. Williams