You Brought a New Kind of Love to Me

You Brought a New Kind of Love to Me—S. Fain/P. Norman/I. Kahal, 1930 (Recorded January 20, 2012) This fine Sammy Fain number was introduced to the world when Maurice Chevalier sang it to Claudette Colbert in the 1930 film, The Big Pond. In the 1931 Marx Brothers flick, Monkey Business, each sibling—Zeppo, Chico, and Groucho—tries in his turn to fake out a customs agent on a ship by using Chevalier’s stolen passport and singing a few bars of this tune mimicked in Chevalier’s style, only to be ejected one at a time by the official. Finally, Harpo, with a hidden record player strapped to his back, hilariously mimes Chevalier, and havoc ensues.

Here, I play the Epiphone banjo uke, which happens to have been built probably 5-7 years before this tune was written. The lead ukulele work during the break is with the Earnest La Paula, and natch, I whistle some. Hope you enjoy it!

Ain’t Misbehavin’

Ain’t Misbehavin’ (I’m Savin’ My Love for You)—T. Waller/H. Brooks/A. Razaf, 1929 (Recorded January 19, 2012) This Fats Waller standard has to be one of the tunes from the jazz age that is most well-known among people alive today, partly because of Leon Redbone’s version, which he performed on a Saturday Night Live show in 1976, and also because of the massively popular 1978 Broadway musical revue of the same title. Lots of 20th Century musicians recorded it—jazz people, pop stars, R&B singers, and even rock ‘n’ rollers. It’s a classic, one that influenced me toward the jazzier side of sounds early in my musical career.

From Wikipedia:

In a 1941 interview with Eddie “Rochester” Anderson, Fats [Waller] claimed the song was written while “lodging” in alimony prison, and that is why he was not “misbehaving.”

Hahaha.

I recorded this cut for the Ukulele Cosmos’s monthly Open Invitational. Go to that site to hear lots of cool ukulele-centric takes on this venerable chestnut.

UPDATE: I’ve uploaded a third version of the song. Unhappy with the other two, I thought I’d give it one more shot. This recording is a once-through track with no overdubs or cut-ins. I just added a bit of EQ and a smidge of reverb. Not sure if it’s really any better than the others, but what the hey.

I Lost My Sugar in Salt Lake City

I Lost My Sugar in Salt Lake City—L. Rene/J. Lange, 1942 (Recorded January 6, 2012) When my wife and I first met back in 1977, we went on a (mostly) hitchhiking trip out west that took us throughout the Pacific Northwest. We stopped in SLC for a spell, where someone snapped a picture of us standing around with a group of people out on the Bonneville Salt Flats; wish I had a copy of that photo.

Johnny Mercer’s is probably the best known version of this breezy, bluesy tune, and I took a few cues from the maestro with this recording. I used the Earnest Instruments cigar box uke, and I distorted the whistling break to make it sound like it went through an amp. Actually, the whole thing is kind of ampy and distorted. You know what they say: Ampy, distorted minds make ampy, distorted music. ;°)

Alice in Wonderland

Alice in Wonderland—S. Fain/B. Hilliard, 1951 (Recorded November 10, 2011) I recorded this video for my friend, Ray Shakeshaft, who got hit with a serious illness a couple of months ago. Ray is recuperating at a rehab center in England, and some of his chums put together a YouTube channel so that friends could post videos to cheer Ray up as he recovers.

Sammy Fain wrote this song for the animated Disney feature of the same name, and if you check back on my list of songs to Number 10, “That Old Feeling,” you’ll hear another tune by the great Mr. Fain. I’ve also added the mp3 of this song to the Box.net widget. The audio quality is not very good, though, as it derives from the “phone” that I used to record the video. (Who would have imagined even just a couple of years ago that telephones would become tools to make videos, surf the Internet, and gaze at the stars?)

September Song

September Song—K. Weill/M. Anderson, 1938 (Recorded late September-early October, 2011) Why am I posting a song about September in the month of October? I must be mad!

Seriously, though, this is the number written specifically by Weill and Anderson for the great Walter Huston to sing in 1938 the play Knickerbocker Holiday. The song became a popular hit in subsequent decades, enjoying a number of interpretations by artists as varied as Ezio Pinza, Maurice Chevalier, Matt Monro, Edie Gormé, Mel Tormé, Sarah Vaughan, Patti Page, and Billy Eckstine, among others.

My interpretation was prompted by the Ukulele Cosmos monthly Invitational challenge, whose September theme was (what else?) “September Song.” I was hemming and hawing about doing this tune until my good friend, Arturo “Arch” Larizza offered to lay down cello accompaniment against my uke and vocal tracks. After about a week of back and forth, re-recording sections, and sorting out mixing challenges, we came up with this very interesting version. Arch’s cello is hauntingly beautiful, and the whole thing is quite dramatic and moving, in keeping with the introspection of the tune’s original reading.

Gee Baby Ain’t I Good to You

Gee Baby Ain’t I Good to You—A. Razaf/D. Redman, 1929 (Recorded September 22, 2011) After this song was written in ’29 and first recorded by McKinney’s Cotton Pickers, it was not touched again until 1944 when Nat Cole had a hit with it. As Andy Razaf was a frequent writing partner with Fats Waller, I’m surprised that Waller never cut this tune…at least I’ve never heard a Fats version. I recorded this straight using an appropriate 1920s Lyon & Healy Washburn soprano ukulele, then I overdubbed the song through with a little maple banjo uke and distorted the sound on that for some background tone and rhythm. Added some percussion after the fact, and that was that.

Among My Souvenirs

Among My Souvenirs—E. Leslie/L. Wright, 1927 (Recorded September 21, 2011) Here’s a song that seems to have existed forever, at least to me. I have an early memory of Burl Ives singing it. Good ol’ Burl. He might have been needlessly worried about Commies, but he sure could croon a choon. For this recording I brought out the Arthur Godfrey-Vega “Father’s Day gift to myself” baritone ukulele. I tried to whistle during the break but my lips are chapped, or something, so I scatted. The singing is a little strained, too. Ah, well. If I were perfect, I’d have more money than that dog abuser, Willard Mitt Romney.

The End of a Love Affair

The End of a Love Affair—E.C. Redding, 1950 (Recorded September 3, 2011) Here’s a standard from 1950 that was recorded by lots of singers and instrumentalists back then, including Billie Holiday, Sinatra, Wes Montgomery, Dexter Gordon, Tony Bennett, Nat Cole, and so on. I used to play this years ago and then lost track of it until recently when I decided to re-remember it. It’s one of the cool mid-Century lost-love songs of despair.

I Wished on the Moon

I Wished on the Moon—R. Rainger/D. Parker, 1935 (Recorded August 17, 2011) Bing Crosby introduced this nice old jazz ballad in the film The Big Broadcast of 1936, and it was a hit for the 20-year-old Billie Holiday during her early sessions with the Teddy Wilson Orchestra. Sinatra did a loverly version, released on his 1966 Moonlight Sinatra compilation, which is where I nicked this arrangement.

I used the Earnest La Paula ukulele and added maracas and bongos later on. It was a challenge keep proper time with the percussion, since I didn’t do the uke and vocal part against a rhythm track. Turned out OK after all.

It Could Happen to You

It Could Happen to You—J. Van Heusen/J. Burke, 1944 (Recorded August 11, 2011) Here’s a song that came to us via Dorothy Lamour and Fred MacMurray in the Paramount musical, And the Angels Sing. The tune became a Big Band hit through the ’40s. I learned it from Rosemary Clooney’s version on her excellent 1986 album, Rosemary Clooney Sings the Music of Jimmy Van Heusen. On this cut I sing and play the old Epiphone banjo uke, and I take a turn whistling through the instrumental part.

This is my first new recording in quite a while. I feel a bit rusty with the process, but I hope this old Hollywood ballad is appealing enough for your enjoyment. Thanks for listening.

Every Day’s a Holiday

Every Day’s a Holiday—S. Coslow/B. Trivers, 1937 (Recorded June 16, 2011) This tune was the theme for the Mae West movie of the same name. The song only appears in the background in the movie, though, and even though Louis Armstrong appears in the film, I have not been able to come across any versions of Pops playing it.

Fats Waller recorded this tune twice, as far as I can tell, and the inestimable Al Bowlly did it as well. It’s a fun, swingy, happy tune that should be played every day, whether it’s a holiday or not! (Note: I added my own lyrics to the last chorus and verse; I felt it needed an extra boost toward the end so I concocted some new words, in the spirit of the original.)

Daybreak

Daybreak—H. Adamson/F. Grofé, 1926 (Recorded June 9, 2011) I made this in my hot attic studio during a 101°F heatwave, using one microphone, a ukulele, mini-bongos, hand claps, voice, and a diatonic “C” harmonica. I celebrate (and fear) the coming season; everyone, please, take it easy in the heat!

Ill Wind

Ill Wind (You’re Blowin’ Me No Good)—H. Arlen/T. Koehler, 1934 (Recorded April 27, 2011) Harold Arlen came up with this tune while he was visiting the woman who was to became his wife. The lyric, by Ted Koehler, is not the most romantic set of words ever written for a melody, and I puzzle whether Arlen had such a gloomy story in mind when he composed the tune in the company of his girlfriend. It was quite ordinary for Arlen’s songs to take on a tone of The Blues, so it doesn’t surprise me that here, one of his darkest songs, was inspired by romance. The song appeared in Arlen’s and Koehler’s last Cotton Club Parade show and was introduced by Aida Ward. Like most of Arlen’s songs, this one has a verse, which I did not record on this take:

How can I feel at ease
When you whine through the trees
Where blackbirds are singin’ the blues
You rattle my door, can’t stand it no more
Weary of hearin’ bad news
My bluebird would cheer me if you’d let him near me
But when you are around, ah, where he goes,
The Lord only knows my trouble and woes…

Yes, he wrote this song for his lover, I’ll betcha! Some day I must learn that verse.

(I recorded this back in April and originally planned to have a musician friend of mine add some accompanying instrumental material, but that fell through, so instead, I whistled.)

Meet Me at No Special Place

Meet Me at No Special Place (and I’ll Be There at No Particular Time)—H. Pyle/J.R. Robinson/A. Terker, 1944 (Recorded May 29, 2011) Another song with a long parenthetical co-title. This is an early proto-R&B song that foreshadows the coming rock and roll revolution. Nat King Cole recorded it back in ’44-’45, and the great Mose Allison covered it more recently. I did this in a hurry before the heat rises in my attic recording studio and toasts my computer’s motherboard.

This is my first new song posted in a while. I’m thinking of making some changes around here, but it’s easier to think about making changes than to make changes. Keep tuned in….

You and I

You and I—Meredith Willson, 1941 (Recorded May 18, 2011) I picked up this catchy tune from the Sinatra/Dorsey version, which was a hit for nine months in 1941. Of course, Willson is best known for his later work, “The Music Man,” which premiered on Broadway in 1957.

I used the Epiphone banjo uke on this one, and got the take in “only” 9 tries. I made the whistling part sound echoey, because, well, that’s how whistling should sound.

The Spell of the Blues

The Spell of the Blues—A. Johnston/D. Dreyer/H. Ruby, 1928 (Recorded May 11, 2011) Here’s another crusty old song, this one about the Blues, as interpreted by a trio of Tin Pan Alley song writing stalwarts. Again, learned from a Bing Crosby recording, one of his sessions with Guy Lombardo, I think.

I used a harmonica on this tune at the very end. It’s a diatonic “C” harp, which is only partly useful for the key of “F.” Plus, I am not the world’s best harmonica player, correct key or no.

(I’m Still Without a Sweetheart) With Summer Coming On

(I’m Still Without a Sweetheart) With Summer Coming On—R. Turk/F.E. Ahlert, 1932 (Recorded May 11, 2011) I’m not sure what it is with long, leading song subtitles in parentheses, but this seldom-heard Roy Turk–Fred Ahlert waltz is worthy of all excessive pronouncement. Bing sang it, and so did Ruth Etting.

Baltimore Oriole

Baltimore Oriole—H. Carmichael/P.F. Webster, 1942 (Recorded May 5, 2011) I don’t remember when I added this song to my list, but long before I knew it, I recall jamming with harpist Ellen Tepper at some event or another and she suggested that I should learn it. I suppose she thought it would be cute to hear this ardent, bluesy Hoagy Carmichael tune on a little uke. (Ellen is a fine harpist. I’ve added a link to her Web site in the “General Music” blogroll on the sidebar. Check her out.)

Anyway, here it is, with real Baltimore oriole accompaniment!

Jet

Jet (Jet, My Love)—H. Revel/B. Benjamin/G.D. Weiss, 1950 (Recorded May 4, 2011) Not the Paul McCartney song. Harry Revel wrote this, and he should be remembered for many great songs such as “There’s a Lull in My Life” and “Did You Ever See a Dream Walking?” I don’t know much else about the tune. I picked it up from Nat King Cole, but I understand Arthur Prysock cut a vocal version, and some jazz people got hold of it, like Mingus and Ahmad Jamal, all of which I have yet to hear and shall have to seek out. Cool tune, though. Reminds me of a spy movie theme.

You Are There

You Are There—H. Sukman/P.F. Webster, 1967 (Recorded May 4, 2011) This tune is an example of work created late in the careers of two big-time Hollywood song writers, Harry Sukman and Paul Francis Webster. Sukman wrote and arranged scores for TV shows (e.g., Bonanza) and films (Salem’s Lot) and was a highly respected classical pianist. Webster penned lyrics for numerous mid-Century standards, including “Black Coffee,” “The Shadow of Your Smile,” “Love Is a Many Splendored Thing,” and—see song number 44, above, “Baltimore Oriole.” Webster also wrote the lyrics to the late-1960s TV cartoon series, Spiderman:

Spiderman, Spiderman
Does whatever a spider can…

Brilliant. His estate must be glad that he chose to associate his name and efforts with a Marvel Comics gold mine.

Sinatra’s is the only vocal version of “You Are There” I’m familiar with. The great jazz pianist and late-career Sinatra musical director Vincent Falcone has a whole record out in honor of Sukman’s music, and his take on this tune is terrif.

This recording is dedicated to my good friend, Mark “Blakey” Kaplan.