The Jo Stafford Holiday Collection

Jo Stafford and Paul Weston

Considering my affinity for Jo Stafford's voice, it's surprising that her seasonal output has never made an appearance here.

I suppose that's because her holiday LPs are well known. Even so, I think it's time we presented the three of them - along with a surprising number of orphan tracks that have appeared hither and yon through the years.

Let's start with those 16 assorted numbers, which take us back to near the beginning of Jo's career. Then we'll get to her Happy Holiday, Ski Trails and The Joyful Season LPs.

Miscellaneous Christmas Tracks

Jo Stafford and the Pied Pipers

Stafford joined the Tommy Dorsey band in 1939 as the lead singer of the Pied Pipers, a popular and influential group. Their sole song with a seasonal connotation would seem to be "Winter Weather," a very good piece by Ted Shapiro that was popular in 1942. Jo would return to the song on her 1955 Happy Holiday LP.

Capitol News, December 1948

Stafford went solo in 1944, and soon was with the new label Capitol, whose music director was Paul Weston - formerly of the Dorsey band - whom she would marry in 1952. But it wasn't until 1946 that they began recording seasonal fare. That year, the label issued her coupling of "Silent Night" and "White Christmas" with the Lyn Murray Singers and Weston's orchestra. The Murray group had done a good Christmas album for Columbia in 1942. It's available here, newly remastered.

Then it took until 1948 for something that could be called a follow-up - the setting of the "Ave Maria" to a Schubert melody, oddly coupled with the musty "Smilin' Through" (not included here).

Stafford made up for the lack of holiday material the next year with several releases.

We start with her early album Jo Stafford Sings American Folk Songs, where we find the first of her three recordings of "I Wonder as I Wander," which did have a folk origin but was turned into the song we know by John Jacob Niles. Regardless of its origin, it is a haunting work both melodically and lyrically that Stafford and Weston handle beautifully.

Also that year, Capitol paired Jo with Gordon MacRae in a perfect partnership that has been featured on this blog several times - including their two Christmas medleys that originally came out on a 12-inch 78.

The final 1949 release was a beautiful version of "Gesù bambino," written by Pietro Yon in 1917 and later adapted by Frederick Martens. This was later added to the Stafford-MacRae medleys that had been issued on 78 to make the EP depicted above.

The next year, Jo was featured on CBS' Carnation Contented Hour radio show. (Carnation made canned milk, which it boasted came "from contented cows.") Jo sings "It's a Marshmallow World," a fun number that was new that year. Peter De Rose and Carl Sigman were the authors.

In 1952, Jo's new label Columbia paired her with a singer much different from MacRae, but just as simpatico - Frankie Laine. He and Stafford had a notable rapport that is immediately apparent in their superb singing on "Christmas Roses," a charming country-style song by the team of Hy Zaret, Alex Kramer and Joan Whitney.

Jo with Frankie Laine

The next year, her holiday offering was the excellent Sammy Cahn-David Holt song "Christmas Blues," also recorded by Dino and newly popular in recent years with recordings by the likes of Bob Dylan.

Stafford and Weston kept themselves busy with her two seasonal LPs for Columbia in 1955 and 1956, which are covered below. But one recording apparently made in 1955 was not included on those albums. It was a version of "O Come, O Come, Emmanuel" that was not issued until a 1968 LP otherwise consisting of material from Jo's holiday LPs. This is with an unidentified organist. Thanks to Ernie Haynes, who alerted me to this number!

From there, we jump ahead to 1962 when another version of "I Wonder as I Wander" was included on her stereo remake of Jo Stafford Sings American Folk Songs, with the same arrangements as the first go-round. She must have liked the song - it also ended up on the Winter Weather LP below.

Stafford made a quick stop-over on the Reprise label for a version of "O Little Town of Bethlehem" that appeared on a Christmas compilation in 1963.

The next year Jo recorded a spot for the Marine Corps Reserve's "Toys for Tots" drive, doing a nice job with the tune and with the messaging as well. Jack Marshall conducted. This was presumably made during the sessions for The Joyful Season, covered below.

Stafford largely retired in the mid-60s, but we do have one more item, here presented out of chronological order because it is a New Year's song - "Auld Lang Syne," taken from Jo's 1956 LP Songs of Scotland.

LINK to miscellaneous Christmas tracks

Happy Holiday

Happy Holiday of 1955 is an entirely pleasing album, but doesn't display the generosity of the season, being short, repeating material that had appeared elsewhere - in new versions - and featuring two numbers that don't include the artist named on the cover.

What it does include are a few appearances by Tim Weston, the three-year-old son of Jo and Paul, who also shows up in the cover photo, bundled up for a winter storm of soap flakes and styrofoam. Jo made do without a coat.

As for the LP, it presents two versions of Irving Berlin's "Happy Holiday," which together last a minute and a half, and remakes of "Winter Weather," "I Wonder as I Wander" and "Silent Night." New to Jo's recorded repertoire were "The Christmas Song," "Let It Snow! (etc.)," "Toyland" and "Winter Wonderland." There also was a recitation of "'Twas the Night Before Christmas" with Weston's musical backing.

Jo must have been out of the room for two numbers: "O Little Town of Bethlehem" is performed by an unidentified children's choir and "The March of the Toys" by Weston's orchestra.

All of this is not unpleasant, but, gee, let's hear more of Jo! 

LINK to Happy Holiday

Ski Trails

This parsimonious approach continued the following year with Ski Trails, which even repeated two songs from Happy Holiday - "Let It Snow (etc.)" and "Winter Wonderland." Meanwhile, the Norman Luboff Choir showed up with forceful renditions of "Winter Song," which seems to be an old choral item from Dartmouth College (Weston was a graduate), and "The Whiffenpoof Song" from Yale. Presumably Luboff's forces were portraying hearty fraternity fellows at an après-ski party.

For Stafford, the only remake seems to be "By the Fireside" (aka "In the Gloaming"), which she had recorded years before with Gordon MacRae. New to her recorded repertoire were "Baby, It's Cold Outside," "Moonlight in Vermont" (with lyrics adjusted to make it more wintery), "It Happened in Sun Valley" (from Glenn Miller's film Sun Valley Serenade), "I've Got Me Love to Keep Me Warm," "The Nearness of You," "June in January" and "Sleigh Ride."

So quite a few new items, just not as many as there could have been.

LINK to Ski Trails

The Joyful Season

So long as I am picking nits, let me start with the title - The Joyful Season really ought to be The Joyous Season, "joyful" relating to people and "joyous" to things.

But the important point to mention is that this 1964 LP features "the Voices of Jo Stafford," signifying that she sings in harmony with herself throughout the album, à la Mary Ford or Patti Page.

Jack Marshall

Together with the sparse arrangements of Jack Marshall, this gives the LP an aura that I have previously likened to an aluminum Christmas tree.

But that is too harsh. The album offers much to enjoy.

Again, there are songs Jo had assayed previously - that's hard to avoid with Christmas material. But there are new things under the tree as well - "Deck the Hall," "Silver Bells," "Little Drummer Boy" and "Santa Claus Is Coming to Town." 

Most notable are two new songs that Paul Weston wrote with Alan Bergman and Marilyn Keith Bergman - "Merry Christmas" and "Christmas Is the Season." Not classics, but worth hearing.

So overall, the set is much to be preferred to an aluminum Christmas tree, even one with a rotating color wheel.

LINK to The Joyful Season

The Complete 'By the Light of the Silvery Moon'

After the success of 1951's On Moonlight Bay, the Warner Bros. brought back stars Doris Day and Gordon MacRae for another go at a story loosely based on Booth Tarkington's Penrod stories. The result was 1953's By the Light of the Silvery Moon. Once again, the songs were vintage and once again there was no soundtrack album because Day recorded for Columbia and MacRae for Capitol.

So today, we bring you the two "songs from the movie" LPs the stars produced separately, along with the actual songs from the soundtrack transferred from an ancient bootleg album. Both of the stars' records were of the 10-inch variety, the waning standard for pop LPs at the time. Within a few years, 12-inch LPs would crowd out their smaller siblings.

Day and MacRae were exceptionally charming on film and their albums are just as worthwhile. Plus there is plenty to like in the period songs, with a few exceptions. In this film, MacRae had just come back from serving "over there," so the setting is circa 1918.

Doris' Columbia LP

Day started off her LP with the title song, "By the Light of the Silv'ry Moon." (Note that the song title was also rendered without the elision, which version Warner Bros. adopted for the film's title.) Gus Edwards and Edward Madden wrote the tune for the Ziegfeld Follies of 1909. Edwards himself was the subject of a biopic, 1939's The Star Maker, with Bing Crosby as his celluloid replica. "By the Light" may be the composer's best song.

Doris Day, Gordon MacRae, Rosemary DeCamp, Leon Ames

"Your Eyes Have Told Me So" was a 1919 effort by Walter Blaufuss, Egbert Van Alstyne and Gus Kahn. It's a fine ballad, done winningly by the amazing Day.

She also is excellent in "Just One Girl," with sterling assistance from the Norman Luboff Choir and Paul Weston's orchestra. The waltz, dating from 1898, is by Lyn Udall and Karl Kennett.

One of the best remembered numbers from the score is "Ain't We Got Fun" from 1921. The authors were Richard Whiting, Raymond Egan and Gus Kahn. Doris is good and the choir is OK, but this is better performed as a duet.

In the film, "If You Were the Only Girl" also was sung by the two principals. Here it's a solo and still a winner. It's a 1916 English song by Nat Ayer and Clifford Grey, and a particularly melodious one.

In contrast, Doris can't do much with the awful "Be My Little Baby Bumble Bee." She is alternately coy and declamatory, and the Norman Luboff Choir is no help. The song works much better as a playful duet, such as on the MacRae LP, or in the film where Day is partnered by MacRae's rival, Russell Arms. Henry Marshall and Stanley Murphy wrote the piece in 1912.

The heartfelt Day solo "I'll Forget You" is much better. Ernest Ball and Annelu Burns composed this lovely ballad in 1921. The song is a high point on both albums.

The final song is Day's specialty "King Chanticleer," originally a 1912 instrumental by Nat Ayer that was recorded  by Prince's Band and many others. At some point A. Seymour Brown added words, and this is the basis of a barnyard opera as arrayed by Doris in the picture and on the cover above. It's too hectic for my taste, but musicals need variety, I suppose.

Gordon's Capitol LP

For his Capitol LP, Gordon MacRae had the significant advantage of a singing partner in the person of June Hutton, who was then making records for Capitol, generally accompanied by her husband, Axel Stordahl, a skillful former Dorsey staffer who was at the helm for most of Frank Sinatra's Columbia recordings.

June Hutton

It might be helpful to have a brief explanation of all the various Huttons who made records and films back then. June was the sister of bandleader Ina Ray Hutton. They were no relation to the movies' Betty Hutton and her sister, Marion, once of the Glenn Miller ensemble. None of them were born as Huttons; they adopted the name, presumably because of the popularity of "poor little rich girl" Barbara Hutton.

June followed Jo Stafford as the female voice in the Pied Pipers, going solo in the late 40s. She was quite a good singer. I expect to post the rest of her complete Capitol recordings soon.

Gordon is just home from the war and Doris is ready for marriage

MacRae of course was famous for his appearances on records, radio and films. The record starts off with his solo, "My Home Town Is a One Horse Town (But It's Big Enough for Me)," written by Alex Gerber and Abner Silver in 1920. Appropriately it's a march, with Gordon's character just home from the war.

June and Gordon pair for "Your Eyes Have Told Me So" and the saccharine "Be My Little Baby Bumble Bee." They perform the latter as if it were a vaudeville song, and it works better than the Day reading. 

Hutton had a much less extroverted manner than Day, which shows in "I'll Forget You." She is just as effective, however.

MacRae does wonderfully well with "Just One Girl," conveying his exhilaration irresistibly. He and Hutton then take on the title song, followed by "Ain't We Got Fun." Their two characters are middle class; shouldn't they have corrected the title to "Don't We Have Fun?"

Gordon and June also do well with "If You Were the Only Girl in the World," although Day is uniquely affecting in this number. 

I've added a non-film duet for Hutton and MacRae - "Coney Island Boat," which comes from another exercise in nostalgia, the 1954 Broadway show By the Beautiful Sea. It's the only other song that the two recorded together, also the only Capitol recording that June made without her husband; instead Van Alexander was in charge. The song is by Dorothy Fields and Arthur Schwartz, and was introduced by the talented and versatile Shirley Booth.

The Soundtrack Recording

As mentioned, the soundtrack recordings come from a long-ago bootleg. After some ministrations, the sound isn't bad at all.

The competing "songs from" LPs encompass all the songs on the soundtrack LP, so this is just provided as an alternate (and the original). The film does include other music from the time (save the anachronistic "La Vie en rose"), but I believe it is all instrumental background except for a vocal by Leon Ames (playing Doris' father) on "Moonlight Bay," a reference to the first film in the series.

The sound on the Columbia and Capitol albums is more than adequate. All these recordings, except for the "Coney Island Boat" single, are from my collection.

LINK

Lee Wiley Sings Cole Porter

The fourth composer songbook recorded by vocalist Lee Wiley was devoted to Cole Porter, issued in a 1940 Liberty Music Shop album.

It's the fourth songbook, that is, in its appearance on this blog; the Porter album actually was second in its date of recording, preceded by a George Gershwin set from 1939, and succeeded by the music of Rodgers and Hart (1940) and Harold Arlen (1943).

As before in this series, I've augmented the eight-selection Porter album with other Wiley recordings from the same general period. The bonuses brings the total number of songs to 11.

This collection displays the talents of the singer in both the clever and romantic songs associated with Porter, as well as her sensitivity in reflective pieces such as "Why Shouldn't I?"

Cole Porter Songs by Lee Wiley

The album leads off with an accomplished reading of "You Do Something to Me," one of two songs here from 1929's Fifty Million Frenchmen, and surely the more popular.

The next item is one of my favorite Porter compositions: "Looking at You," which is popular with some cabaret singers but otherwise ignored. Wiley is a persuasive advocate.

The song comes from the London revue Wake Up and Dream, where it was overshadowed by two of Porter's best known inspirations - "What is This Thing Called Love?", which doesn't appear in this collection, and "Let's Do It (Let's Fall in Love)" which does. The latter had actually been introduced by Irene Bordoni in 1928's Paris before being added to the London show.

Lee sings the third and fourth choruses of "Let's Do It," which are delightful and not often heard. She does not favor us with the seldom-performed verse, alas.

"Easy to Love" is from the 1936 Eleanor Powell musical Born to Dance, where it is sung by a game Jimmy Stewart, among other performers. The song is notably well constructed lyrically and memorable melodically. Lee is entirely comfortable with it.

"Why Shouldn't I?" is a treasurable song from Jubilee, a 1935 musical. It has become a standard but even so is superseded in popularity by that same score's "Begin the Beguine" and "Just One of Those Things." Wiley handles "Why Shouldn't I?" supremely well.

Paul Weston

As with other albums in this series, the eight selections were distributed between two sets of accompanists. The songs above, except "Let's Do It," are with a small band led by Paul Wetstein, in later years better known as Paul Weston. The accompaniment is discreet; the only musician who stands out is pianist Joe Bushkin, who is well matched to Wiley's style.

Joe Bushkin

The other songs are with a group identified as "Bunny Berigan's Music," which is far more assertive. The trumpeter has several characteristic solos; Bushkin is again on the piano bench.

Bunny Berigan

"Let's Fly Away" is one of the two most recognized songs from 1930's The New Yorkers. (The other is "Love for Sale.") It is an example of Porter's marvelous ability to produce smart lyrics. Parenthetically, I am fond of Noël Coward's second set of lyrics for this tune. They can be heard on the album Bobby Short Is Mad about Noël Coward.

Wiley is faultless in "Find Me a Primitive Man" ("I don't mean a kind that belongs to a club / But the kind that has a club that belongs to him"), supported by Berigan's growl trumpet and George Wettling's tom-toms. I don't even mind the slight bowdlerization of the lyrics because Wiley delivers the extended verse so well. The song is from Fifty Million Frenchmen.

The final song - "Hot-House Rose" - is almost unknown. The album notes date it to 1929, but the sheet music bears a 1927 publication date. It's a good but sad song that may have remained unrecorded until this collection: "When I saw those flowers all in bloom / I almost forgot my basement room. / I'm hot-house Rose from God knows where / the kind that grows without fresh air."  Wiley is attuned to this lament, although it was much different from her typical repertoire.

Cole Porter

Porter was pleased with the set. "I can't tell you how much I like the way she sings these songs," he wrote the annotator. "The combination of voice and musical accompaniment is excellent. Please give my congratulations to Lee Wiley."

As with other Liberty Music Shop records, the sound quality is reasonably good. Working from the Internet Archive 78s provides better fidelity than the LPs in my collection.

One final note: many alternate takes of these performances have been in circulation. I find such compilations to be too much of a muchness, but let me know if you disagree.

More Porter from Lee Wiley

Despite the composer's professed affinity for the vocalist, she did not make all that many recordings of his work. I've found only three more from this general time period.

Two are of the same song: "I've Got You Under My Skin" is from Born to Dance, where it was performed by the talented actor Virginia Bruce. Wiley recorded it in 1937 for Decca in a performance led by her mentor Victor Young. The vocalist was second-billed, and as usual in these circumstances, the orchestra performs a few choruses before the singing begins. We also have another reading of the song from an 1938 aircheck, done with an unidentified band.

Lee Wiley and Victor Young

Our final selection is a live performance of "Why Shouldn't I?" from a 1945 live set with an Eddie Condon-led band that included the ever-present and invaluable Joe Bushkin. Lee was having some vocal problems at this date. She never had much range, but here she misses notes that she previously could reach. It somehow makes this wistful song even more affecting.

These Wiley collections have been popular. While I've completed posting the 1939-43 songbooks, I have other collections coming up.

LINK

Gordon MacRae in 'New Moon' and 'Vagabond King'

A few years ago I posted two LPs worth of highlights from four operettas, all made in the early 1950s and featuring baritone Gordon MacRae. Over the next few posts I'll complete the set, with two more albums and four more sets of operetta excerpts.

Today's post presents the first two operettas that Capitol produced - The New Moon and The Vagabond King, both recorded in 1950. In the near future I'll offer the remaining two - The Red Mill and Naughty Marietta. They are the last in the series, dating from 1954.

Capitol offered each operetta on its own 10-inch LP, then combined two of them onto one 12-inch record. My posts come from the 12-inch versions.

The New Moon

Sigmund Romberg's The New Moon and Rudolf Friml's The Vagabond King were both hits on Broadway in the 1920s, and as such were among the last of the species to become popular in this country. But while musicals took over the stage, operettas maintained popularity in films (Nelson Eddy, Jeanette MacDonald, etc.), radio and to a degree on records. This lasted well into the 1950s (e.g., the rise of Mario Lanza) and even the 60s, when MacRae himself re-recorded four operetta sets in stereo. Even today, community groups and some professional ensembles stage these enduring favorites.

For this first pair of Capitol productions, MacRae was joined by the superb mezzo-soprano Lucille Norman. They were co-stars on radio's Railroad Hour, where the duo presented highlights from musicals and operettas much as these LPs do. The back cover mentions the radio show, and has a drawing of their giant heads trundling by, pulled by an old locomotive.

The New Moon had book and lyrics by Oscar Hammerstein II, Frank Mandel, and Laurence Schwab, and was the third in a series of popular successes for Romberg. The other two, The Student Prince and The Desert Song, also appear in this series and have been featured on this blog (links below).

Listening to the New Moon selections is pure pleasure, at least after you get past "Stout Hearted Men." The songs are memorable - "Marianne," "One Kiss," "Wanting You," "Softly, as in a Morning Sunrise" (always preferable to an evening sunrise), and "Lover, Come Back to Me." "Wanting You" demonstrates that MacRae and Norman had the same rapport as the baritone and Jo Stafford, who often recorded together. "Lover" is a fine showcase for Norman. These recordings usually include the verses, which are enjoyable to hear.

Lucille Norman

A word about Lucille Norman (1921-98). Although she had appeared in a few films and on Broadway in the 1940s, her primary fame came from her radio shows, both with MacRae and on her own. In 1951, she returned to films to appear with Dennis Morgan in Painting the Clouds with Sunshine. Capitol issued a "songs from the film" LP (right) featuring her and Morgan, which I posted here years ago and have now remastered in ambient stereo, with new scans. In 1952, she took on a dramatic role with Randolph Scott in the western Carson City.

For The New Moon, Capitol's competition in the market was a 1949 RCA Victor recording led by Al Goodman, who had co-orchestrated and conducted the 1928 Broadway production. Victor's principal voices were Earl Wrightson and Frances Greer. In 1953, Decca countered with a Lee Sweetland-Jane Wilson recording conducted by Victor Young. (I have that record if anyone is interested.)

The Vagabond King

The Vagabond King is another operetta with the usual formula of nobility, conflict and romance. The 1925 show had music by Rudolf Friml, with book and lyrics by Brian Hooker and William H. Post. It was based on Justin Huntley McCarthy's novel and play If I Were King.

10-inch LP cover

As with The New Moon, Capitol's Vagabond King recording comes out of the overture with a hearty number, "The Song of the Vagabonds," and as with The New Moon, that isn't where the song appeared in the stage show. 

The record then provides a specialty for Norman ("Some Day") and for MacRae ("Only a Rose"). Here, the baritone betrays a tendency to croon, which shows up in both shows. My guess is that he was tired, having a full schedule of films (both Tea for Two and The West Point Story were issued in 1950), radio (The Railroad Hour) and records (Capitol was having him wax such tunes as "You Dyed Your Hair Chartreuse" and "Hongi Tongi Hoki Poki").

The two stars then combine for "Love Me Tonight" and, appropriately, "Tomorrow." "Nocturne" is a feature for the choir, with the men rather thin-toned. Oddly, the gorgeous "Huguette Waltz" is not sung by Norman but by the choir. As with The New Moon, the selections conclude with a finale, and mercifully MacRae and Norman reappear.

For both operettas, Paul Weston led the orchestra and chorus, and presumably supplied the smooth arrangements.

As with The New Moon, Capitol's Vagabond King had competition from RCA Victor's Al Goodman, Earl Wrightson and Frances Greer, via a 1949 album. In 1951, Decca would counter with its own production led by Victor Young and starring Alfred Drake and Mimi Benzell. The latter LP was featured on this blog a few years ago, packaged with nine of Drake's solo recordings. That collection is still available here.

The Student Prince, Merry Widow, Desert Song and Roberta in Ambient Stereo

Previously in this MacRae series, we've enjoyed (I hope) excerpts from four operettas - The Student Prince, The Merry Widow, Desert Song and Roberta. (The last is a musical, but is in the operetta tradition.) I've now remastered them all in ambient stereo - links to the original posts are below; download links can also be found in the comments to this post.

The Student Prince and Merry Widow. The Student Prince was another deservedly popular operetta by Sigmund Romberg, dating from 1924. For its 1953 disc, Capitol paired MacRae with the excellent Dorothy Warenskjold. For Franz Lehar's The Merry Widow of 1905, the label again turned to the reliable Lucille Norman to appear opposite MacRae. That LP dates from 1952. George Greeley was the conductor for both operettas.

The Desert Song and Roberta. For The Desert Song, we finally move from Ruritania to Morocco, presumably for its exotic allure. This is the third Romberg score in the set of six, with McRae again paired with Norman, and with Greeley handling the arrangements and conducting. The Desert Song came out when MacRae was starring in a filmed version with Kathryn Grayson. RCA issued a competing LP version with Grayson and Tony Martin, which I posted in 2008 and remastered not that long ago. Roberta, too, brought together MacRae, Norman and Greeley for a pleasing version of the Kern-Harbach musical from 1933. Alfred Drake's 1944 set of Roberta songs, made with Kitty Carlisle, is available here.

Frankie Laine's First Columbia LP, with Bonuses

Frankie Laine is not the kind of singer I usually respond to - he's brash and bigger than life - but I love him even so. He was a most skillful artist.

It's sometimes said that Laine represented a new way of singing in response to the Sinatra-style romantic vocalists of the war and postwar years. His approach was not new, though. Before electric amplification came along, popular singers had to project their voices to be heard. Frankie was a throw-back to the days of Al Jolson (who had a career renaissance in the postwar years), and such blues singers as Bessie Smith.

It's true that these days, Laine is most remembered for such lung-busting exercises as "Mule Train" ("Hee-YAAHH") for Mercury and "Jezebel" ("Jez-e-BELL-lll-LLL") for Columbia. But while Laine possessed a powerful voice, he was not always unsubtle and he was an accomplished technician. You only need to hear his smooth duets with the great Jo Stafford to realize that he was in many ways her peer. And his sense of rhythm was second to none.

Laine had been singing for some time before he began making records, first for the small companies Bel-Tone and Atlas, then for the new Mercury label. He and Mercury immediately enjoyed a huge success with 1946's "That's My Desire," which became Laine's theme song. Some of Laine's Mercury sides and his Bel-Tone disc can be found via this link.

This post and its companion present his first Columbia LP, a 10-incher, and add the special sides that the label issued to promote it. 

'One for My Baby'

Laine's producer at Mercury was the influential Mitch Miller. After Miller departed for Columbia, Frankie followed, in early 1951.

The two almost immediately hit pay dirt with "Jezebel" and such emphatic successors as "Jealousy." They saved the more subtle sides for a long-playing outing, which was soon underway.

Frankie's first LP for his new employer was titled for the number one saloon song of all time, "One for My Baby," written by Harold Arlen and Johnny Mercer for the great Fred Astaire and his 1943 film The Sky's the Limit.

Astaire was another skillful singer, but one whose approach could not be more different from Laine's. Fred gave the impression that his voice wouldn't reach patrons in the second row of a theatre. Frankie sounded like he might knock those same people out of their seats. Somehow, both Laine and Astaire are equally persuasive in this famous lament for lost love.

The album begins with the welcome and not often heard "Tomorrow Mountain." Duke Ellington and John Latouche wrote the song for a 1946-47 adaptation of Beggar's Holiday, where it was introduced by Alfred Drake, playing Macheath. To me, most of the musical interest is in the extended opening verse. Latouche's lyrics (and even the song's title) resemble Harry McClintock's "Big Rock Candy Mountain," first recorded in 1928 and a major country hit in 1939.

Frankie and Mitch made a point of choosing diverse songs for the record (they even talk about it on their promo record) starting with the Hawaiian "Song of the Islands," followed by a 1934 opus from the talented Harry Revel and Mack Gordon, "She Reminds Me of You" - an excellent rendition of an infrequently heard song.

Laine was the first to record "To Be Worthy of You," a melody by Walter Gross, who was famous for writing "Tenderly." "Worthy" is not as good as "Tenderly," however.

"When It's Sleepy Time Down South" was the theme song of Louis Armstrong, one of Frankie's idols. Even though the piece was written by three black composers - Clarence Muse and the brothers Otis and Leon René - it reflects stereotypes about race and the South, and would soon become controversial, if it wasn't when Laine recorded it. It has a memorable melody, though, and Frankie is great in it.

"Love Is Such a Cheat" is another song based in stereotypes - "The gypsy came from Bucharest / The girl she came from Budapest / Now you can guess the rest." This was a new song in 1951, also recorded by the Andrews Sisters.

Finally, we have "Love Is a Necessary Evil," a good tune by the accomplished singer-songwriter Redd Evans ("Let Me Off Uptown," "No Moon at All" and unfortunately "The Frim Frim Sauce").

The transfers of these songs come from two sources - my copy of the LP and the 78 album on Internet Archive. I used the 78s where possible because the sound was more vivid - not unusual with records of this vintage.

Bonuses on Buster's Swinging Singles

To interest disc jockeys and listeners in Laine's latest efforts, Columbia issued a promotional record, one side of which involves Mitch and Frankie introducing three songs from the LP above; the other with Laine providing two singing salutes, four song intros and a photo offer, all of which could be programmed by DJs more flexibly.

On my singles blog, I've put together a dual program to go along with the LP. First are the Mitch-Frankie LP intros along with relevant songs themselves. Second is a program with Frankie's "singing salutes" and generic song intros, which I've interspersed with several of his singles - including "Jezebel," "Jealousy" and two duets with Jo Stafford. They make for a fun listen that you can find here.

The Two 'White Christmases'

That holiday favorite, White Christmas, is one of those films that doesn't have a soundtrack LP per se. But it does have two albums with some claim to authenticity because they separately feature the movie's biggest stars, Bing Crosby and Rosemary Clooney.

Bing and Rosie recorded for different companies (Decca and Columbia), each of which wanted its own product to capitalize on the popular film. So Decca assembled a 12-inch LP with Crosby and his co-star Danny Kaye, adding Peggy Lee to take over the Clooney spots. And Columbia came out with a 10-inch LP that had Rosemary singing eight of the songs from the film.

In this post, I'll discuss the Irving Berlin songs from that 1954 film, and assess the treatments found on the competing LPs. My presentation follows the order of the songs in the film. The download, however, keeps the two LPs separate and in their original running order.

White Christmas - The Old Man

The first song is, appropriately, "White Christmas," with Capt. Crosby singing to front-line troops who are about to get a new commander to replace the beloved Gen. Waverly (Dean Jagger). Bing's poignant rendition is interrupted by the appearance of the general himself. The troops serenade him with "The Old Man" (apparently carefully rehearsed for just such an occasion). The song has some amusing tongue-in-cheek lyrics such as, "We'll follow the old man wherever he may stray / So long as he stays away from the battle's fray."

A version of "The Old Man" is included on the Decca LP, where it was combined with "Gee, I Wish I Was Back in the Army," which appears much later in the film and will be discussed below.

Heat Wave - Let Me Sing and I'm Happy - Blue Skies

After the war, Crosby forms an act and then a production company with Kaye, who saved his life during the enemy attack that ended their Christmas Eve show. A montage shows them performing the Berlin oldies "Heat Wave," "Let Me Sing and I'm Happy" and "Blue Skies."

Once again, Clooney doesn't attempt these songs, but "Blue Skies" does turn up on the Crosby LP, yoked with "I'd Rather See a Minstrel Show" and "Mandy," which again are from much later in the film and will be discussed below.

Sisters

Clooney and Vera-Ellen were cast as a sister act. Bing and Danny catch them at a remarkable outdoor night club in Florida presided over by Herb Vigran, a character actor who seemingly appeared in every other film and television show for decades.

Trudy Stevens and Dick Stabile

The sisters perform "Sisters," appropriately, to the rapt attention of Crosby and Kaye. In the film, Vera-Ellen's singing voice was dubbed by Trudy Stevens, a very good vocalist who was the ex-wife of bandleader Dick Stabile - who himself appears in the film later on.

Rosemary and Betty Clooney

On the Columbia record, Rosie was joined by her sister Betty for the duet. The two had appeared together for years as the Clooney Sisters with Tony Pastor's band. Betty was to make a good number of records as a single, without achieving Rosemary's popularity.

The Decca LP also includes "Sisters," here given to Peggy Lee, at the time a Decca artist and someone who had been considered for the Clooney part. Lee's sister act consists of Peggy doing a duet with herself, seamlessly. Both versions are very good.

The Best Things Happen While You're Dancing

Still at the Florida club, Kaye and Vera-Ellen do a romantic dance to "The Best Things Happen While You're Dancing." Trudy Stevens again is the singing double for Vera-Ellen. As a dancer Kaye isn't terrible, and as a singer he isn't half bad, which is helpful because Decca had him do a solo for its LP.

The song also appears on the Clooney LP. She doesn't partake in the dance on film, except to sneer at the couple at the end. (Rosie's character is kind of a pill throughout a good part of the film.) Her version is quite good (as is her whole LP, for that matter).

Snow

The two couples end up on a train together heading to Vermont, where the sisters are booked at an inn. They look forward to the dubious delights of the winter weather in the song "Snow." (Berlin recycled this melody from a Call Me Madam outtake titled "Free.")

Peggy Lee

For the Decca record, Crosby and Kaye were joined by Peggy Lee and Trudy Stevens, who as mentioned above also dubbed Vera-Ellen's singing voice on the film soundtrack. Clooney did a very fine solo version for Columbia.

I'd Rather See a Minstrel Show - Mister Bones - Mandy

The gang shows up at the Vermont lodge only to find there is no snow and no patrons. In a remarkable coincidence, Gen. Waverly turns out to be the inn's proprietor. He insists on the sisters staying and performing, and the Crosby-Kaye combo come up with the idea of putting on their show at the inn to attract customers.

This provides a convenient excuse to bring in some musical numbers, starting with a minstrel show, an atavistic tendency in musicals that hadn't died out yet, but here thankfully does not involve blackface. The setting provides an opportunity for Berlin to bring in two of his songs from the Ziegfeld Follies of 1919, "Mandy" and "I'd Rather See a Minstrel Show."

In the film, Crosby, Kaye and Clooney sing in this sequence. On the Decca record, "Mandy" is yoked to "Blue Skies," as mentioned above, with "I'd Rather See a Minstrel Show" between the two, even though it is not listed on the LP's contents. It's been suggested that the Decca LP lifted these numbers directly from the soundtrack (sans Clooney) - I suspect that is the case.

On her Columbia LP, Rosie confines herself to a "Mandy" solo. She includes Berlin's original verse, which makes it clear that she is overhearing two lovers, not appealing to Mandy herself. The verse is not used in the film or on the Decca record.

Count Your Blessings (Instead of Sheep)

Berlin's gorgeous ballad, "Count Your Blessings (Instead of Sheep)," was the big hit from the film, and rightfully so. Crosby sings it incomparably, with such great feeling that it breaks through the reserve of Clooney. Their awkward kiss - interrupted by Waverly - nicely encapsulates both their relationship and Bing's ability to seem caressing in song and clumsy in the clinches. It's a wonderful scene.

Being the big hit it was, the number is done solo by Bing and Rosie on their respective LPs, which gives us two superior renditions.

Choreography

Back to the incipient stage show at the inn, we next have a specialty number for Danny Kaye, the clever but somehow distasteful "Choreography," in which Berlin and Kaye make fun of modern dance. ("Chaps who did taps / Aren't tapping any more / They're doing choreography.") In the film, Kaye's spoken intro is overdone, and on record his reading is even riper, if that's possible.

Robert Alton's choreography of this number is enjoyable, but you can't see that on the record.

"Choreography" seems tacked on to White Christmas to provide a specialty for Kaye, who was a last-minute substitute for Donald O'Connor. The latter would have partnered Vera-Ellen in the more intricate dance numbers. Those were beyond Kaye's ability, so the accomplished dancer John Brascia was pressed into service alongside Vera-Ellen for those spots.

It perhaps doesn't need saying that Clooney doesn't attempt "Choreography" on her album.

Love, You Didn't Do Right by Me

Through the intercession of the indispensable Mary Wickes, who plays the busybody major domo of the inn, Clooney thinks that Bing and Danny are going to use the general as to get publicity via a spot on the Ed Harrison (read: Sullivan) TV show. Disillusioned, she takes off for a solo engagement in a New York nightclub, leaving Bing and her sister behind.

At the Carousel Club, bandleader Dick Stabile talks her into doing her specialty "Love, You Didn't Do Right by Me," even though Crosby is in the house to patch things up. It's a very good number, although Berlin has her sing, "To send me a beau / Who had winter and snow in his heart / Wasn't smart," when the icy one is actually Clooney's character.

Clooney does the song beautifully, both in the film and on her LP. The Decca album assigns the number to her counterpart, Peggy Lee, who also handles the number well. However, her singing is too sophisticated for the character and abstracted for the situation, poking fun at Berlin's lyrics, "As they say in the song / 'You done me wrong'."

The dancer above with Clooney is George Chakiris, who went on to a notable career as an actor, singer and dancer on the strength of his success as Bernardo in the London cast of West Side Story and in the 1962 film version, for which he won an Academy Award. [Correction - loyal reader Geoconno points out that Chakiris played Riff in the West End production.]

What Can You Do with a General?

The weakest song in the score is surely "What Can You Do with a General?", which somehow reconciles Rosemary to Bing, even though it does just what she was afraid of - it exposes the general as a failure when Crosby sings it on the Ed Harrison Show. The song contains such lyrics as, "It seems this country never has enjoyed / So many one- and two- and three- and four-star generals unemployed" and "They're delighted that he came / But they can't recall his name." Waverly of course isn't unemployed - he is the owner of an inn large enough to stage a major show. Also, this is taking place nine years after the end of the Second World War. The generals are still unemployed?

The explanation in part is that Berlin recycled the number from an unproduced show. Crosby does do a version of the song for the Decca album. Clooney wisely ignores it.

Gee, I Wish I Was Back in the Army

Crosby and company end up putting on a major show at the inn for the general's benefit. One of the numbers is "Gee, I Wish I Was Back in the Army." An article on the National WWII Museum site observes, "The song 'Gee, I Wish I Was Back in the Army' highlights the mixed feelings of many war veterans... many veterans struggled to transition back into civilian life." The latter thoughts are true, but this jocular song hardly conveys that.

But the song is clever and well staged, and appears on both LPs. Crosby and Kaye handle the vocals on the Decca LP, with Clooney soloing on her record. The Decca LP, as noted above, combines this number with "The Old Man."

White Christmas

The film concludes with another presentation of "White Christmas." It's the high point of the show at the inn, and has the backdrop of a timely snowfall. "White Christmas" is essentially a solo song, so this ensemble version doesn't provide much of an emotional punch, and the staging is overdone, with kiddie ballerinas and unbecoming costumes. (Bing looks disconsolate above.)

The Decca LP replicates the ensemble approach, but Crosby's earlier solo performances are far superior. Clooney's version is one of the best things on her excellent record.

The Clooney album has backing by Columbia stalwarts Percy Faith, Paul Weston and Buddy Cole. Vocal support is by the Mellomen, a group that included the renowned studio vocalists Thurl Ravenscroft and Bill Lee.

On the Crosby LP, the chorus and orchestra are led by Joseph J. Lilley, a Paramount orchestrator who had worked with Bing as far back as 1942's Holiday Inn (which introduced "White Christmas").

In addition to the two LPs, the download includes scans of both covers, stills and discographical information. The sound is excellent on both albums. I transferred the Decca from LP; the Columbia came from the two-EP version of the 10-inch LP.