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.

Jo Stafford and Gordon MacRae - Sunday Evening Songs (and Much More)

One of my favorite posts from long ago is the 10-inch LP of Sunday Evening Songs by two of Capitol's leading singers, Jo Stafford and Gordon MacRae. To me, this selection of eight 19th century songs by these superb vocalists is pure pleasure.

Stafford and MacRae often recorded together in the late 1940s and up until Stafford and arranger Paul Weston decamped for Columbia Records in fall 1950.

Today's post expands on Sunday Evening Songs by adding 12 more items from the same period. These include the four additional songs that Capitol later included on the 1956 LP Memory Songs - a retitled expansion of Sunday Evening Songs. Also included are the flip sides of those four songs when they were first issued as singles, plus a promotional record that Capitol issued to plug one of them, the duo's version of "Wunderbar." That promo also included pitches for solo singles by both artists, so I've added those songs and their B-sides to the mix as well.

Hopefully all this will become clear below, but if not, the tunes will still sound as good.

Jo and Gordon

Both Jo Stafford and Gordon MacRae were stars when they began recording together. Stafford had been the lead singer of Tommy Dorsey's Pied Pipers before she went solo in 1944. She immediately began recording as a single for the young Capitol Records company. Starting in 1945, she was a host of radio's Chesterfield Supper Club, alternating with Perry Como.

Jo Stafford in 1947

MacRae had his own radio show in 1945, and later became the lead personality on The Railroad Hour, sponsored by the Railroad Association. He quickly became popular in Hollywood, first in a few dramatic roles, then in musicals, such as Look for the Silver Lining and The Daughter of Rosie O'Grady, where he introduced "As We Are Today," one of the songs in this collection. He recorded for Musicraft before moving to Capitol in 1947.

Both MacRae and Stafford were on ABC radio in 1949

Sunday Evening Songs

This is a new transfer of Sunday Evening Songs. Here is what I said about the LP in 2010:

"Two of the favorite artists of this blog and many of its readers are Jo Stafford and Gordon MacRae, who frequently recorded together while at Capitol.

"In this 10-inch LP from 1950, they present what they call 'Sunday evening songs.' The liner notes tell us that in the early years of the 20th century members of the household would gather around the piano for a group sing of sweet, familiar songs. Stafford and MacRae, aided by Paul Weston's apposite arrangements, present eight of these songs in straightforward, but infinitely pleasing renditions.

"None of this material would have been new even at the turn of the 20th century. It dates from as early as 1833. The notes tell us that such songs were enjoying a renaissance in the postwar world; would that there would be such a renaissance today. But this music is as passé as the green piano cloth on the spectacular album cover."

All the recordings come from August 1950, near the end of Stafford's tenure at Capitol. The other items in this collection are from 1948 and 1949.

Promoting "Wunderbar" and Solo Songs

You didn't need much of a memory to recall most of the other "memory songs" that Capitol included on its 12-inch version of Sunday Evening Songs. Three of the four were not old, and "Wunderbar," the subject of the promotional disc presented here, dated back only to 1949.

MacRae and Stafford had recorded the number when it was new and was being featured in Cole Porter's giant Broadway hit, Kiss Me, Kate. In about April 1949, Capitol sent a two-record set of promotional discs to the nation's disc jockeys to plug their "Wunderbar" duet, along with their current solo singles of "Kisses and Tears" (Gordon) and "Open Door, Open Arms" (Jo). The promo disc I have in hand (courtesy of Internet Archive) has spoken introductions to these three recordings. The idea was that the disc jockey would conduct a fake interview with Stafford and MacRae, reading from a script (which I don't have), and the artists would lead into their discs. As you might expect, the results are stiff and strained - which has its own charm, of course.

Among Capitol's most important artists

This collection also includes the B-sides to those three numbers: "I'll String Along with You" (a duet), "As We Are Today" (Gordon) and "Diamonds Are a Girl's Best Friend" (Jo). The latter is associated with Marilyn Monroe, who vamped her way through it in the 1953 film version of Gentlemen Prefer Blondes, but this record was in conjunction with the 1949 stage production, where Carol Channing introduced the song.

"Wunderbar" also ended up in a 1950 Stafford-McRae album of Kiss Me, Kate songs. That collection also included six solo numbers from the score, equally split between Jo and Gordon, plus a choral version of "Too Darn Hot." While only "Wunderbar" is included in this post, the duo's Kiss Me, Kate LP has appeared on this blog and is available here in newly remastered form.

The Remaining Memory Songs and B-Sides

Although most of the numbers added to Memory Songs were not old, only "Wunderbar" wasn't a stylistic fit with the 19th-century compositions on the earlier 10-inch LP.

"Beyond the Sunset" is a beautiful sacred song that Virgil and Blanche Brock wrote in 1936, and the MacRae-Stafford duo recorded in 1950. It's B-side is "Near Me," a cover of a Johnny Lee Wills song that had appeared on the flip side of his 1950 "Rag Mop" single. (Jo and Gordon didn't attempt "R-A-G-G M-O-P-P, Rag Mop!")

Also in the collection is "Need You," a new but antique-sounding tune that was popular in 1949. Its flip side is "'A' You're Adorable." This Stafford-MacRae single was popular, but not as much as the big hit version by Perry Como and the Fontane Sisters. 

The final tune added to Memory Songs was a precursor to Sunday Evening Songs in that it dates from the 19th century. "Whispering Hope" did well for the duo in 1949. The song has a strange history, at least according to one source. The composer was Septimus Winner ("Oh Where, Oh Where Has My Little Dog Gone," "Listen to the Mockingbird") under the name of Alice Hawthorne. "Whispering Hope" was published in 1868, but Winner had written it during the Civil War under the name "Give Us Back Our Old Commander," a plea to return Gen. George McClellan to service. McClellan had broken with Lincoln and in fact ran against the President in 1864. Winner's song was supposedly considered treasonous, resulting in his being jailed until he repudiated it. The tune that ended up as "Whispering Hope" is now often considered a gospel song.

I can't imagine how the lovely melody of "Whispering Hope" could have been used to promote Lincoln's antagonist, but regardless, it makes for a beautiful record. Paul Weston apparently had recalled the 1920s recording of the song by Louise Homer and Alma Gluck, and suggested it to Stafford and MacRae. The result did very well.

1949 Billboard ad

The B-side of "Whispering Hope" - "A Thought in My Heart" - is included here as well.

These recordings, which come from my collection and Internet Archive, generally have excellent sound. I have tracked the promotional bits to that they can be removed from your playlist when Gordon and Jo's remarks lose their charm.

Stafford and MacRae were again Capitol artists in the early 1960s, and recorded two additional LPs together, both of sacred material. The first, Whispering Hope, included both that song and "Beyond the Sunset" from this collection, in new renditions.

As a companion to this post, I've uploaded a rare promotional single that MacRae produced in about 1950 for the benefit of Community Chest, the forerunner of today's United Way in the US. It's on my singles blog.