Showing posts with label Sylvia Syms. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Sylvia Syms. Show all posts

21 August 2025

The Early Sylvia Syms, Vol. 3

Following her spells at Atlantic and the small Version label, vocalist Sylvia Syms moved up to a major - Decca, where she would spend four years producing LPs and singles, along with a few guest appearances. Today we will present her first Decca LP (from 1955), arranged by the estimable Ralph Burns, her two guest vocals on Steve Allen albums (from 1954), and - on my other blog - her complete singles from 1956. These posts encompass all her 1954-56 recordings - 21 songs in all.

The biggest collection of tunes is on the LP, so let's start there.

Sylvia Syms Sings

The labels could not help themselves when naming Sylvia's LPs - Atlantic came out with Songs by Sylvia Syms and Decca with Sylvia Syms Sings. Alliteration must have been big back then.

But the important point is not the name on the package, it's the music, and that's excellent. Arranger Ralph Burns had made his name with the Woody Herman band, and was in demand for records until switching over to Broadway in the 1960s and then Hollywood. Burns has been featured on this blog previously backing Teddi King, Lee Wiley, Portia Nelson, the Anita Kerr Singers and Hugh Martin and Ralph Blane. For this LP, Burns and Syms came together for three recording dates in August 1955.

Ralph Burns

Kurt Weill and Ira Gershwin wrote the brilliant song "My Ship" for the 1941 musical Lady in the Dark. Burns' pastoral arrangement is lovely, even enchanting, but there's nothing here - or in Syms' singing - to signify the neuroses that marked Liza Elliott, the "lady in the dark." Sylvia and Ralph also are of two minds about the pacing.

She seem happier with Burns' harp and flutes in "Then I'll Be Tired of You," another airy arrangement of a fine Arthur Schwartz-Yip Harburg song dating from 1934.

"I Am the Girl" is just perfect, from the devastating verse through the rueful heartbreak that permeates the song. This LP apparently was the first recording of the James Shelton song.

Shelton's other relatively well-known song is "Lilac Wine" - which "makes me see what I want to see; be who I want to be." It's another futile love song, which Sylvia did exceptionally well. I believe this number was first recorded by Eartha Kitt.

"I Don't Want to Cry Any More" is another tale of lost love, handled brilliantly here. It's a great song, composed by the multi-talented film director Victor Schertzinger in 1940.

In later years: Kaye Ballard, Mabel Mercer, Sylvia Syms, Tony Bennett

Vernon Duke and John Latouche were the authors of the sly "Honey in the Honeycomb," which they produced for 1940's Cabin in the Sky, where it was sung on Broadway by Katherine Dunham.

Victor Young and Ned Washington wrote "A Woman's Intuition," possibly for Lee Wiley. (It in the Columbia collection I posted a while back.) These are all superior artists, but the song doesn't amount to much.

Cole Porter wrote the characteristic "Experiment" in 1933 for Nymph Errant. "Be curious, though interfering friends may frown / Get furious, at each attempt to hold you down."

"Let Me Love You" is one of Bart Howard's best-known songs (although overshadowed by the success of "Fly Me to the Moon"). Syms does it well. The song also in on the extensive collection of Howard's songs taken from Portia Nelson's albums, which can be found here.

Harry Woods' "We Just Couldn't Say Goodbye" was a hit in the 1930s - there's a memorable Boswell Sisters recording, for one. Sylvia doesn't quite have the elan of the sisters, but that may be because the tempo is slower than it should be.

"I'm So Happy I Could Cry" was the handiwork of comic Milton Berle (it says here) and pianist Nat Jaffe, with lyrics by Buddy Feyne, who also wrote lyrics for "Tuxedo Junction" and "Jersey Bounce." It's not a bad song, but Syms doesn't sound convinced.

The final song is that great Arlen-Harburg effort, "Down with Love." Sylvia sings the verse, which I don't think I've heard before. She's is in tune with the number, but the beat in her voice is noticeable here.

It may be worth noting that when this LP was released, Decca also came out with Ella Fitzgerald's Sweet and Hot, Jeri Southern's In the Southern Style and Carmen McRae's By Special Request. Tough competition for Syms on her own label!

Two Songs with Steve Allen and Friends

The comic-pianist-songwriter Steve Allen issued two LPs with traditional jazz bands in 1954, recorded live at New York's Manhattan Center. Sylvia fits in well with the two groups - she could be brash and brassy as required. 

She performs one tune with the Lawson-Haggart Jazz Band, the other with a Billy Butterfield band.

With the former aggregation, she sings "Love Me or Leave Me," the Walter Donaldson-Gus Kahn song from 1928, written for Ruth Etting. It's good, but the real attraction is the second song - Sylvia's own composition, "The Only Man Blues," which she handles with great panache.

These songs came out on two LPs - Steve Allen's All Star Jazz Concert, Vol. 1 and 2 - which otherwise contain instrumental numbers that are not included here. The bands sound under rehearsed, but Syms seemed to like appearing with this type of backing - also true, for example, of Lee Wiley.

LINK to Sylvia Syms Sings and two songs with Steve Allen et al (corrected link)

The Complete 1956 Singles

As mentioned, in 1954, Sylvia recorded two songs with Steve Allen and in 1955 the LP Sylvia Syms Sings. For 1956, Decca had her record seven songs for release on singles, which I have collected on my other blog. Fortunately for Syms, her first single was a big chart hit - her take on "I Could Have Danced All Night."

Here's a link to that post:

LINK to the complete 1956 singles

06 June 2025

The Early Sylvia Syms, Vol. 2

It's a pleasure to present what may be the most elusive Sylvia Syms LP - After Dark, on the very short-lived Version label.

In my first installment of this series, I speculated that this album came from 1952. But now, after further investigation, it seems to be from 1955. That's because Bart Howard's "In Other Words" (better known by its later title of "Fly Me to the Moon") wasn't written until 1954, and it concludes the LP.

Sylvia Syms

As with the 10-inch version of her first album, Syms is here accompanied by a trio - Gene DiNovi on piano, Russ Saunders on bass, and Herb Wasserman on drums. The latter was also in Barbara Carroll's trio on Songs by Sylvia Syms. This is another one of those "after hours" records - made after the clubs closed, leaving the musicians in peace. Annotator Rogers Whitaker of the New Yorker does not specify where it was made, but implies it was in someone's apartment, without benefit of an engineer present.

Perhaps so. Regardless, the sound is good - sufficient to convey Syms' voice with great fidelity and DiNovi's accompaniment clearly. The rhythm is muted.

This set shows off Syms' jazz singing to good effect. She plays with the rhythm and the melody, always for expressive ends. This is another 10-inch LP, so it has only eight songs.

Gene DiNovi

Sylvia starts off with "Let There Be Love," a song that was having a moment in the mid-50s, even though it was composed in 1940. Syms treats it with affection. It's the only hit by Lionel Rand and Ian Grant. (Bobby Short's version can be found here.)

"When Your Lover Has Gone" is another superb number by a songwriter mainly known for one work - composer-arranger E.A. Swan. One wonders how such a superb song didn't lead to more.

Our next songwriting team had no problem producing hit after hit. "The Gentleman Is a Dope" is by Richard Rodgers and Oscar Hammerstein, from one of their few shows that wasn't an enormous success - Allegro. (You can find the version by Lisa Kirk, who introduced the song on Broadway, here.)

Gordon Jenkins had a penchant for sad songs, and "Goodbye" is one of the saddest. Benny Goodman was the first to record it - in 1935, when Jenkins was only 25. It became BG's closing theme.

"It's De-Lovely," from Cole Porter's 1936 show Red, Hot and Blue, could not be more of a contrast. Syms is in high spirits on this one.

The most obscure song on the LP - at least in retrospect - is "There's a Man in My Life," one of the last songs that Fats Waller wrote before his death in 1943 at age 39. It comes from the show Early to Bed, and was written with George Marion.

"You Do Something to Me" is a chance for Syms to shine, which she does in this Cole Porter standard from 1929's Fifty Million Frenchmen.

When this LP was issued, the least-known song was the only new one - "In Other Words," which Bart Howard had written not long before. The first recording was by Kaye Ballard in 1954, with Syms and Chris Connor following the next year. The song really took off after being renamed, although it was recorded under its original title as late as 1962. Frank Sinatra's powerhouse rendition with the Count Basie band in 1964 sealed its popularity.

Sylvia's version - complete with the excellent verse - could not be more different from Frank's - intimate, affectionate and just right. As is the whole LP, for that matter.

LINK

24 April 2025

The Early Sylvia Syms, Vol. 1

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

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

About Sylvia Syms

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

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

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

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

Songs by Sylvia Syms (10-inch version)

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

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

Barbara Carroll, Joe Shulman, Herb Wasserman

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Songs by Sylvia Syms (12-inch version)


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

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

Johnny Richards

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

LINK

10 March 2020

Let's Sing a Quasi-Irish Song with Buster


And now, to mark the upcoming feast of St. Patrick, I present an Irish-themed compendium that has nothing to do with that good saint and very little to do with Ireland itself. While each selection is Irish-related in some way, it is usually the Irish or Irish music through the lens of American or English composers and performers - with the notable exception of the great Irish tenor John McCormack. Apropos of its varied ingredients, I am calling this collection "Buster's Irish Stew."

As usual, I'll present the 32 selections chronologically, reaching back to the early years of last century for the oldest specimens.

Peter Wyper
Our first number, an "Irish Jig," comes from 1909 and the Scottish accordionist Peter Wyper. He was supposedly the first accordionist to make records, so now you know who to blame.

The following year, two of the big stars of the early recording scene, the Americans Steve Porter and Billy Murray, combined for the vaudeville routine "Irish Wit," with a snappy tune sandwiching fast-paced ethnic repartee.

American banjo virtuoso Fred Van Eps is next with his 1911 record of "Irish Hearts." Van Eps was the father of jazz guitarist George Van Eps.

Fred Van Eps at the recording horn
Vaudevillian Ada Jones was last heard on this site in a German dialect number; on this 1911 record she has been transformed into an Irish lass, telling her "German dunce" boyfriend that "You Will Have to Sing an Irish Song" to have a chance with her. Albert Von Tilzer ("Take Me Out to the Ball Game") was the songwriter.

Billy Murray turns up again in 1912 with a tune called "If It Wasn't for the Irish and the Jews," reminding us that "without the Pats and Isidores you'd have no big department stores," among other benefits provided by these two ethnicities. Presumably the Victor company hoped to sell these platters in both Irish and Jewish neighborhoods, and the department stores run by Pat and Isidore.

Cigarette card from 1914
The great John McCormack makes the first of several appearances in this collection with the traditional song "Molly Brannigan." The recording dates from 1913, although this pressing comes from 1920.

Among his other accomplishments, the American songwriter and singer Chauncey Olcott wrote two enduring standards - "My Wild Irish Rose" and "When Irish Eyes are Smiling." In 1913, Olcott recorded the first named for Columbia.

Olcott was an polished vocalist but no John McCormack, who did his own version of "My Wild Irish Rose" for Victor in 1914. The song dates from 1899, when it was heard in the Broadway play A Romance of Athlone. Coincidentally, McCormack himself was from that Irish town.

One of Australian composer Percy Grainger's most famous compositions was his setting of the Irish reel "Molly on the Shore," dating from 1907. Originally for string quartet or string orchestra, Grainger later obligingly arranged it for orchestra, wind band, and violin and piano, missing an opportunity to capture the big kazoo-player market. In this 1916 recording, American violinist Maud Powell is heard with pianist Arthur Loesser, the half-brother of songwriter Frank Loesser.

Maud Powell in 1914
John McCormack returns with Chauncey Olcott's other big success, "When Irish Eyes Are Smiling," in a 1916 recording for Victrola. The orchestral accompaniment is led by the immensely prolific Victor staff conductor Rosario Bourdon.

Two years later, McCormack was in a New York studio with the less-familiar "My Irish Song of Songs," which name-checks all the familiar Irish tunes of the time. Josef Pasternack, another Victor music director, leads the band.

Arthur Pryor in 1920
We skip ahead to 1923 for a two-sided medley from Arthur Pryor's Band, "Reminiscences of Ireland." One of the tunes is "Irish Washerwoman," which will turn up twice more later in the playlist. The Pryor Band first became famous under the leadership of Arthur's father, Samuel. Arthur took over its leadership after his father's death. A trombone virtuoso, Arthur had been in Sousa's Band for 12 years, rising to become its assistant conductor.

Bartlett and Robertson
Ireland has been the source of inspiration for many composers, none more so than the English composer Sir Arnold Bax. Among his many works with an Irish theme is 1916's "Moy Mell (The Happy Plain)" for two pianos. Performing in this 1927 recording are the eminent wife and husband duo of Ethel Bartlett and Rae Robertson. The two were closely associated with Bax's music, although he did not compose this work for them - it was written for Myra Hess and Irene Scharrer.

One of the leading chamber ensembles of the day was the Flonzaley Quartet, who recorded an "Irish Reel" in 1927 for Victor. The arrangement is by second violinist Alfred Pochon. The other side of the record (not in the playlist) was Pochon's arrangement of the spiritual "Deep River" - much different from the Flonzaley's usual diet of Beethoven and Haydn.

The Flonzaley Quartet
Perhaps the best known (and most parodied) sentimental song in the repertory is "Mother Machree" by the well-known songwriters Chauncey Olcott, Ernest Ball and Rida Johnson Young. Again, this was an American song of theatrical origin, coming from the 1911 Broadway play Barry of Ballymore. John McCormack is heard in his second recording of the piece, dating from 1927.

Mother Machree song card, c1939
Albert Sammons by
Alexander Akerbladh
Grainger's "Molly on the Shore" was popular with violinists, but not all used his arrangement. In 1928, the superb English instrumentalist Albert Sammons recorded Fritz Kreisler's version, which Grainger reputedly hated. No accompanist is named on the label and I haven't able to discover who the pianist might be.

Also in 1928, John McCormack recorded the wrenching ballad "The Irish Emigrant," written in the mid-19th century by Lady Dufferin and George Barker. This is a remarkable record, surely the best of this group.

"The Irish Emigrant" cigarette card
Moving on to 1936, we have the lighter-hearted "Laughing Irish Eyes" from veteran American bandleader Johnny Johnson, with a pleasing vocal by Lee Johnson. The budget label Melotone records issued this disc.

English violist Watson Forbes recorded William Alwyn's "Two Folk Tunes" in 1940 with harpist Maria Korchinska. The composer contrasts a Norwegian tune with an Irish air. Forbes was a distinguished figure, but he is not note-perfect here.

Benjamin Britten and Peter Pears by Cecil Beaton
Last October I discussed John McCormack's recording of Yeats' "Down by the Salley Gardens" in the setting by Herbert Hughes. Benjamin Britten set the poem under the title "The Sally Gardens" in his first volume of Folk Song Arrangements. In this 1944 recording the composer accompanies Peter Pears.

Charlie Spivak
James Royce Shannon's "Too Ra Loo Ra Loo Ral" was written for a 1914 Chauncey Olcott show, Shameen Dhu. It did well at the time in Olcott's recording, and its popularity was renewed when it was included in Bing Crosby's 1944 film Going My Way. The playlist has a relatively unfamiliar instrumental version from big-toned trumpeter Charlie Spivak and his band.

In 1945, Boyd Neel took his orchestra into Decca's West Hampstead Studios for our final version of "Molly on the Shore," in Grainger's arrangement for strings.

The next year, comic Morey Amsterdam (last discussed here for not having written "Rum and Coca-Cola") decided to revive an old vaudeville song, "With His Wonderful Irish Brogue," which dates back to at least 1918. This was for the small Crown label.

Fred Lowery
"My Wild Irish Rose" returns in a version from Fred Lowery, probably the most recorded and popular whistler of all time. A big-band veteran, Lowery would achieve his greatest hit with "The High and the Mighty" theme in 1954. This one has the same eerie quality that helped make "The High and the Mighty" a success.

It wouldn't be an Irish-themed collection without hearing from Bing Crosby. I've included one of his lesser-known songs, "My Girl's an Irish Girl," the flip side of "Galway Bay," a 1948 coupling. Victor Young leads the band.

John McCormack died in 1944, and in 1948 another Irish tenor, Michael O'Higgins, put out the tribute song "When McCormack Sang Mother Machree" on the small American Beauty Recordings label. O'Higgins was a music professor at the University of Dublin.

Glamorous Freddy Morgan
In 1949, Spike Jones wreaked his usual havoc with "MacNamara's Band," featuring a decidedly inebriated sounding "I. W. Harper and The Four Fifths" on vocals. (I. W. Harper was a then-popular bourbon.) I believe "Harper" is actually Freddy Morgan. The conceit here is that MacNamara heard Spike's records and decided to imitate his sound, at which point the Irish deported him.

At long last, we come to our first version of "The Irish Washerwoman," a traditional tune played throughout the British Isles. Here we have Leroy Anderson's arrangement from his Irish Suite, written for the Boston Pops and Arthur Fiedler. This recording dates from 1950. You can hear Anderson's own version of the Irish Suite via this post. I've newly remastered the sound both of that recording and its companion, a Fiedler collection of Leroy Anderson compositions.

The Pinetoppers
"The Irish Washerwoman" returns disguised as an "Irish Polka" in our next selection, dating from 1952. The artists were the country group The Pinetoppers, who were led by songwriter Vaughn Horton, the author of "Mule Skinner Blues," "Sugar Foot Rag" and "Mockin' Bird Hill," not to mention Louis Jordan's classic "Choo-Choo Ch'Boogie." The "Irish Polka" is attributed to "Paddy Hogan." My guess is Hogan was Horton under another name.

Perhaps fittingly, we close our collection with a song that has nothing whatsoever to do with Ireland or Irish music, but does lend its name to this collection. "English Muffins and Irish Stew" was a pop song by the well-known writers Moose Charlap and Bob Hilliard, here recorded by Brooklyn's Sylvia Syms. Unaccountably, it turns out to be a mock calypso!

The Cash Box, July 28, 1956
As usual with these collections, the raw material came from lossless needle drops found on Internet Archive and refurbished by me. The sound is quite good - even for the records that are now 100+ years old.

A pleasant St. Patrick's Day to all from your one-quarter Irish blogger!