The History of the Valve Trombone from the perspective of Duke Ellington. First published in the Duke Ellington Society of Sweden Bulletin, April 2025. Updated November 2025.

“I played valve trombone for a while, but I didn’t like it. It’s easier to play, but it’s a kind of cheat if you’re going to play trombone. It has a foreign sound and it always seemed out of tune to me. I can get more attack and much more out of the instrument with slide than with valve.”¹ These words by Buster Cooper, who played in Ellington’s trombone section in the 60s, reflect the typical slide players reaction, when the subject of the valve trombone comes up.

The valve trombone is a very misunderstood instrument, in my opinion. Despite it uses exactly the same type of bell section and mouthpiece, it actually differs much more from the slide than most people think. What makes all the difference is the valves themselves and all the tubing it requires. When the air has to travel in and out through valves and crooks, it introduces a lot of resistance to the instrument, changes the sound, and makes it much harder to get a consistent tone quality and attack. It is, however, much easier to learn the three-finger valve system than using a slide, but it is definitely not a trombone that is easier to play.

The early valve systems had all kinds of problems with intonation, inconsistent tone quality and so on. These expand with the length of the instrument, which means adding valves to a trombone is much more challenging than a trumpet. Many of these problems have since been minimised, and the valve trombone is not harder to play in tune than a trumpet anymore. One reason, according to Bob Brookmeyer, why musicians are still suspicious of the valve trombone, is “that most people play it rotten. Even excellent slide men play it in pedestrian fashion. It takes an awful lot of wood-shedding to get what you want from the instrument.”²

The valve trombone was hugely popular in the second half of the 19th Century, especially in military bands and opera orchestras. Nevertheless, there seems to have been barely any soloist during that era. Juan Tizol was probably the first valve trombone star, and Ellington was the one who had the imagination to use it to its fullest potential. Then, in the second half of the 20th Century, Bob Brookmeyer developed a new and modern approach to the instrument, and today he stands as the greatest valve trombonist of all time.

The origin

The slide trombone goes back to the 15th Century. At that time, the instrument was known as a sackbut. There are several theories about the origin of the name, and its meaning; the most popular being that sackbut means to push and pull. The earliest known trombone maker is Hans Neuschel (?-1533) from Nürnberg, Germany; a city that was central to trombone manufacturing in the Middle Ages. The instrument quickly became very popular, and was soon to be found in all kinds of cultural contexts around Europe. As a result, trombone players were among the most celebrated musicians at the time.

Since the trombone was the only brass instrument capable of playing all 12 notes of the chromatic scale, it was considered very advanced. French horns and trumpets were limited to the harmonic series, and the players had to carry with them crooks of different lengths in order to play in different keys. When the German horn player Heinrich Stölzel and his collaborator Friedrich Blühmel patented their valve system in 1818, that started to change. Throughout the 19th Century, there was a lot of experimentation going on among instrument makers, including both ascending and descending valves designs, that either shortened or lengthened the instrument. Applying valves to brass instrument had many challenges, and the change from natural trumpets and horns to valve instruments happened gradually over the century.

The earliest known valve trombone was made in Berlin in 1818, but the first to produce instruments in any quantity, seems to have been Johann Tobias Uhlmann from Vienna, who patented his Doppelschubrohrventil (double sliding-tube valve) in 1830. From there, it spread across Europe and America and became enormously popular, especially in Italy, Bohemia, and France. In some countries the valve trombone almost outdid the slide instrument completely and was for a period the only instrument taught at the conservatories. In other places, the two instruments coexisted. Famous composers like Antonín Dvořák, Bedřich Smetana and Giuseppe Verdi, wrote their trombone parts with valves in mind.

Many assumes that the storm scene from Gioacchino Rossini’s William Tell Overture is written with valve trombones in mind. It would have been the perfect show off for the new instrument, with its rapid scale passages, which is incredibly difficult to play on a slide trombone; but since it premiered in 1829, it is very unlikely that valve trombones were available to players.

Information regarding valve trombone soloists in the 19th Century is very scarce. The only name I have come across is Giotacchino Bimboni, who was a professor of trumpet and trombone at the Cherubini Conservatory in Florence. As a soloist, he performed opera arias exclusively, and also wrote a valve trombone method book.

Although valves had improved the agility, many believed it had come with the price of poor intonation and timbre. Creative instrument makers like Adolphe Sax tried to solve this, and in 1852 he presented his ‘Saxtrombone’ with six independent valves. It became quite popular in Belgium, and it is said that Camille Saint-Saëns made use of it in some of his works.³

Despite all the experimentation and improvements, the slide trombone began to outdo the valve trombone during the late 19th and early 20th Century. It was, strangely enough, conductors and composers who demanded that the trombonists change in many cases. In 1900, John Philip Sousa commented on the French military bands use of valve trombones: “I think, too, that French military bands would be improved if the alto-horn and valve-trombone were abandoned. They are only concessions to the laziness of instrumentalists, and are a poor substitute for the warm, effective and beautiful tone of the French horn and trombone.”⁴ When Gustav Mahler became the director of the Vienna Court Opera in 1897, valve trombonists were ordered to switch to slide, and they were even paid to take lessons.

Some of the very earliest jazz trombonists actually played with valves. Among them Frank Keely and Willie Cornish who both played with the legendary New Orleans cornettist Buddy Bolden.⁵
On the famous 1905 picture of the Bolden band, Cornish can be seen holding a valve trombone, but no recordings of him exist. After 1907, when Bolden ‘got crazy’, valve trombonist Frankie Dusen took over the band.⁶ Another New Orleans legend, Kid Ory, started on valve and then switched to slide trombone later on. He too was photographed with a valve trombone in 1905 with his Woodland Band.

The slide trombone had been able to make glissandos since it was invented in the 15th Century, but it remained unused until the rebirth of the instrument. Jazz musicians were probably among the first ever to use glissando effects on the trombone.

Duke’s valve trombonists

With all this in mind, it seems like a rather retrospective decision by Ellington to hire his first valve trombonist, Juan Tizol, in the summer of 1929. At that time the instrument had been dismissed by almost everybody, but Ellington obviously loved it, since his trombone section included a valve trombone for 30 years. He understood the difference and how to make use of it, which can be heard on many recordings.

Juan Tizol was born in Puerto Rico in 1900, and was taught music by his uncle. In Puerto Rico, the slide trombone was only used in army bands, so Tizol got to play valves and continued to do so throughout his career. As a youngster, he played in his uncles band, as well as for the local opera, ballet and dance bands. When he came to Washington in 1920, he played for silent movies and touring shows, and that was when he meet Ellington for the first time. Tizol’s instrument was pitched in the key of C, unlike most trombones which are in B flat. He was renowned for his clean and accurate playing, his excellent sight-reading skills, and his ability to transpose and play the other musicians parts easily.

The newest discographical data tells us, that Tizol recorded with Ellington for the first time on July 29th 1929 – he is however not clearly audible before the September 16th session. On Haunted Nights, Ellington puts his new two man trombone section to good use, by letting them play a simple respond figure to the trumpet lead ensemble. On March of the Hoodlums recorded on November 14th, we hear Tizol as a soloist for the first time. His melodic, legato style of playing, sounds very nostalgic, and makes a good contrast to the more staccato like ensemble playing.

Ellington’s idea of using the trombone duo in parallel thirds, as he did in Haunted Nights, is further developed in other pieces. A good example is the 10” version of Creole Rhapsody recorded in January 1931, which includes a longer section featuring the trombones in this style. Another example is Tizol’s own composition Admiration from March 1930.

Tizol was occasionally featured as a soloist with the band. His role was often to present the melody on his own compositions. The sentimental ballad Lost in Meditation from 1938 are a good example, as are Moonlight Fiesta (1935), Pyramid (1938) and Caravan. Tizol explained his composition process to Patricia Willard like this: “I’d just start playing the trombone, and trying to see if I could get some kind of a melody, and that’s the way I did it. […] I usually played at home – when I was practicing, I’d be playing something, and if I liked it, I’d put it down on paper. […] and Duke would arrange it and put it on a record.”

Caravan was recorded for the first time on December 19th 1936 by a seven piece band under Barney Bigard’s name. Tizol plays the melody on the A-sections, and then goes into what sounds like improvisation on the bridge. It seems though to have been carefully planned, because when the full band recorded the piece on May 14th 1937, he plays basically the same ‘improvisation’. A live version from the Cotton Club, captured between the two sessions on March 18th, also has the same solo, but this version is considerably slower than the studio recordings. Another example of a sound-a-like improvisation can be heard on Twelfth Street Rag recorded in January 1931. An incomplete score of the tune has survived, but the section where Tizol solos is missing, so we don’t know if Ellington planned it. Tizol’s solo in Battle of Swing (1938), on the other hand, is fully written out in Duke’s score.⁷

Tizol, as mentioned earlier, had his roots in classical music. Billy Strayhorn made good use of this in his famous arrangement of Flamingo recorded in December 1940. The arrangement starts with Tizol playing the first three notes of the song alone, sounding almost like a french horn. The fact that Tizol played euphonium as a child, could very well have influenced his sound on the trombone in that direction. Another example of Strayhorn’s use of Tizol in that fashion, is his experimental composition Dirge, premiered at Carnegie Hall in January 1943. Again, the piece starts with Tizol all alone, but this time the solo is a good deal longer.

The mellow, slightly distant sound of the valve trombone, together with its increased agility, made the instrument blend very well with the sax section. Good examples are Delta Bound, Clouds In My Heart and Swampy River, all from 1932. On these recordings we hear Tizol playing the melody voiced inside the sax section. The reason that he comes through so clearly, is thanks to the recording engineers. Another somewhat similar use of the valve trombone is found on the 12” version of Creole Love Call (1932). Here we hear Tizol in various combinations with the clarinets, and again, he is way up front in the mix.

Tizol’s successors

Juan Tizol left the band in 1944, but rejoined again in 1951 to 1953. Except for that brief period, the valve trombone was never to have same prominent part in Ellington’s music again. Tizol was replaced by Claude Jones, who was a slide player, but took up the valve trombone on Ellington’s request. He had previously played with McKinney’s Cotton Pickers, Chick Webb and Fletcher Henderson, and had experience as a trumpet player at early age. Jones continued to play a few of Tizol’s solos, but Ellington didn’t create any new music for him, as far as I’m aware. Perhaps Ellington hoped, that he would develop his own approach to the valve trombone over time, but that didn’t happen. Wilbur de Paris, who was in the trombone section around the same time, sometimes played the valve trombone too.

One of the few examples we have of Claude Jones in a solo role is Tizol’s composition Bakiff, recorded live at Carnegie Hall in December 1947. Ray Nance is the main soloist on violin, but in the middle section, Jones plays the melody. He does it alright, but it sounds slightly stiff and uninspired, and his tone on the instrument is not nearly as beautiful as Tizol’s.

Another example is Reminiscing in Tempo, a 12 min piece composed by Ellington in 1935, in which Tizol played an important part. When Ellington brought it back in the repertoire ten years later, Jones played Tizol’s part. The live recording from July 25th 1945 sounds underrehearsed, but Jones does a fairly good job. There are also two live recordings from 1948. It is believed to be Quentin Jackson who plays the valve trombone on these later recordings, but Tyree Glenn also played valves with the band, which can be seen in the movie Salute to Duke (1950).

Perhaps the most beautiful solo Ellington ever wrote for the valve trombone is Come Sunday from Black, Brown and Beige. Most of his valve trombonists played it, so it makes an interesting comparison. Come Sunday is part of the first movement Black, and the valve trombone introduces the melody. This is followed by a violin solo, and then a duet between violin and valve trombone. This part of the spiritual theme, as Ellington called it, is “as seen and heard from the outside of the church, admiring the beautiful church windows.”⁸ When Johnny Hodges plays the melody later on, we are inside the church.

At the premiere at Carnegie Hall in January 1943, it was played by Juan Tizol, but when it was time to record it in the studio in December 1944, Tizol had been replaced by Claude Jones. Ellington had the impossible task of cutting down his 50 min composition to four 12” sides, and as a result, the opening statement from the valve trombone on Come Sunday was cut. Though, from a few days later, December 19th 1944 at Carnegie Hall, we have a complete recording. Jones didn’t want to play the valve trombone, according to Quentin Jackson, and this is probably what we hear. Again, he does it alright, but Tizol’s interpretation is the superior one in my opinion.

Ellington recorded Come Sunday in the studio again in 1958, and this time the opening statement was played by John Sanders.⁹ Sanders joined the Ellington band in 1954 as a slide player. A year later, he bought a valve trombone from Juan Tizol, and shortly thereafter started playing it with the band. He had experience playing baritone horn in a military band, but had to learn new fingerings since the instrument was pitched in C. Sanders did a great job on Come Sunday. His tone has a breathy quality, and his love and understanding for the instrument shines through.

On March 4th 1958, the Ellington band was recorded live at a dance date in California.¹⁰ Here we get a chance to hear Sanders as a featured soloist on a couple of tunes. On Vivi, an Ellington composition that was never recorded in the studio, Sanders is the only soloist. From that same date, we also get a complete version of Caravan with Sanders playing Tizol’s part. Other examples of Sanders playing Tizol’s solos are Lost in Meditation from June 1957¹¹, and Rock Skippin’ at the Blue Note and Raincheck from August 1967.¹² Sanders also participated in a septet date on March 19th 1956 where we hear a few samples of him as an improviser.¹³ On Blues, recorded a month earlier,¹⁴ we get a chance to hear him play a longer solo, but this time on slide trombone.

When Sanders left the band in 1959, there was never to be a permanent valve trombone player in Ellington’s band again. Tizol and Sanders came back on a few occasions, but other than that, the valve trombone was history. He tried very hard to get Juan Tizol back on many occasions, offering him large sums of money, but without success. When he hired Chuck Connors in 1961, he also tried to persuade him to play valve trombone, but again without success, and they agreed on bass trombone instead. Buster Cooper, who joined in 1962, had experience playing valve trombone, but it is not clear if actually played it in the band for a while.

In 1962, Ellington called Bob Brookmeyer asking him to join the band. Brookmeyer said no, but he evidently considered it a highlight of his career just being asked to join, since he often mentioned it during interviews. During the 30 years Ellington had employed a valve trombonist, his music had progressed enormously, but the players that had followed Juan Tizol, had basically carried on the playing style that he had established. With his love for both avantgarde and swing music, it is very unlikely that Brookmeyer would have followed in Tizol’s footsteps. Although it is impossible to know how Ellington would have used him, we can get some idea by listening to Brookmeyer’s own recordings. In November 1961, he recorded Caravan with a 17 piece orchestra arranged by Ralph Burns.¹⁵ It features Brookmeyer as the main soloist – a hard swinging performance, and a great arrangement, that have little in common with Tizol and Ellington. A few years before, in 1959, Brookmeyer recorded his own experimental arrangement of It Don’t Mean a Thing with a 10 piece band that featured himself on both valve trombone and piano – a version that wins over multiple listens. Trumpeter Ernie Royal, who played with Ellington on the 1950 European tour, also solos on this one.¹⁶

Duke as an inspiration

Ellington, of cause, has inspired thousands of musicians around the world, and continues to do so. To what extent can his pioneering use of the valve trombone be traced in the music of others?

When Juan Tizol left Ellington in 1944, he settled in Los Angeles, and joined Harry James’ band, where he continued to play and write music in the same style. Good examples are Keb-Lah (1946) and Zambu (1945). Both tunes have similarities with Caravan, which he recorded with Harry James too. Tizol also recorded a couple of tunes with Woody Herman in 1944, among them his famous composition Perdidio, on which he soloed on the bridge, accompanied by saxes and clarinet.

Arranger Nelson Riddle used Tizol in an Ellingtonian fashion on Frank Sinatra’s 1957 album A Swingin’ Affair (Capitol), on which Tizol had a prominent role on Night and Day, I Got It Bad and From This Moment On. Another arranger, Frank DeVol, made use of Tizol when he did a session for singer June Christy in 1947. I Let a Song Go Out of My Heart and Day Dream both have Tizol playing obligato to Christy.

The valve trombone actually became somewhat popular in west coast jazz in the 50s. A rare example of a valve trombone section was recorded in Los Angeles in 1954: Bud Shank and Three Trombones (Pacific Jazz). Here the alto saxophonist is joined by Stu Williamson, Maynard Ferguson and Bob Enevoldsen. Only Enevoldsen had the valve trombone as his main instrument; the two others were primarily trumpet players. The opening track Valve In Head is quite enjoyable.

Drummer Shelly Manne had a septet with an Ellington like line-up with three saxes and valve trombone, played by Enevoldsen. Arranger and pianist Mary Paich often used Enevoldsen on his recording sessions. A good example is The Broadway Bit (Warner), recorded in 1959, which I highly recommend. Enevoldsen also recorded with Gerry Mulligan and His Ten-tette (Capitol) in 1953. He explained in an 1989 interview: “He [Gerry Mulligan] was kind of after that nasal sound, I guess. It just seemed to fit in the valves and the french horn and two trumpets. Marty [Paich] used that a lot for the brass section, and he used bass trombone on some of the things.”¹⁷ There were several other writers in the LA area who experimented with valve trombone, among them Bill Russo and John Williams.

Bob Brookmeyer showed what the instrument was capable of like no one else. In the 60s he played with Gerry Mulligan’s Concert Jazz Band, Thad Jones/Mel Lewis Orchestra, and also had a quintet with Clark Terry. “I play lead trombone with Mel and Thad and also did it with the Gerry Mulligan band. It’s good for lead–remember Juan Tizol with Ellington? You’re just an octave under the lead trumpet, and the fact that you have identical execution makes things sound more crisp… at least I think so, but I’m prejudiced.”

More valve trombonists

Brad Gowans¹⁸ should be mentioned here too. He was a multi instrumentalist (like most valve trombonists), who also played cornet, clarinet. He made his own hybrid of a slide and valve trombone called a ‘valide’, which I think is the instrument he plays on Brad Gowans and His New York Nine (RCA Victor), recorded in 1946.

Others worth mentioning include Rob McConnell from Canada, Ken Wray from England, Arthur Holitzer from Czechoslovakia, Andrzej Kurylewicz from Poland, Anker Johansson from Sweden and Raul de Souza from Brazil.

Today, a few slide players continues to double on valves with varying success. Among them Andy Hunter, Christian Jaksø, Robert Bachner and Steen Hansen. Andy Hunter has a very beautiful, euphonium-like sound, and I recommend listening and watching the WDR Big Band playing You Make Me Feel So Young, which features Hunter on valve trombone.

References

• Andresen, Mogens: Messingblæseinstrumenternes Historie www.mogensandresen.dk
• Bate, Philip: The Trumpet and Trombone (Benn/Norton 1966, rev. 1972)
• Boyes, Roger: John Sanders on Record (DESUK Blue Light, vol. 26 no. 1, spring 2019, p.9-11)
• Dietrich, Kurt: Duke’s ‘Bones (Advance Music, 1995)
• Ellingtonia www.ellingtonia.com
• Haufman, Bo: Juan Tizol, En latinsk krydda i Ellingtons orkester (DESS Bulletin vol. 19, no. 2, April 2011, p.1,4-6)
• Herbert, Trevor: The Trombone (Yale University Press 2006)
• Palmquist, David: The Duke Where and When www.tdwaw.ellingtonweb.ca
• Shifrin, Ken: The Valve Trombone (Brass Bulletin no. 3, 2000, p. 126-144)
• Willard, Patricia: Juan Tizol oral history interview (November 1978) rucore.libraries.rutgers.edu

Notes

1. Dance, Stanley: The World of Duke Ellington (C. Scribner’s Sons, 1970, p.210-212) ↩︎
2. Morgenstern, Dan: Bob Brookmeyer Master Of The Brass Stepchild (Down Beat 1967-01-26 p.14-16) ↩︎
3. Leloir, Edmond: The trombone with 6 independent valves (Brass Bulletin 1973 no 5/6 p.103-105) ↩︎
4. No state aid for art, says mr. John Philip Sousa (The New York Hearld 1900-05-00) ↩︎
5. Pops Foster, the autobiography of a New Orleans jazzman (University of the California Press, 1971, p.17) ↩︎
6. Syncopated Times: Frankie Dusen (https://syncopatedtimes.com/frankie-dusen-1880-1940/) ↩︎
7. Email from Michael Kilpatrick and Bob Hunt (2024-12-07) ↩︎
8. Ellington’s spoken introduction at Carnegie Hall, 1944-12-19 ↩︎
9. Duke Ellington feat. Mahalia Jackson: Black, Brown and Beige (Columbia, 1958) ↩︎
10. Duke Ellington: Dance Date Air Force U.S.A. March 1958 (Jazz Connoisseur) ↩︎
11. Ella Fitzgerald Sings The Duke Ellington Song Book (Verve, 1957) ↩︎
12. Duke Ellington: …And His Mother Called Him Bill (RCA Victor, 1968) ↩︎
13. Duke Ellington: Happy Reunion (Doctor Jazz, 1985) ↩︎
14. Duke Ellington Presents (Bethlehem, 1956) ↩︎
15. Bob Brookmeyer: Gloomy Sunday and Other Bright Moments (Verve, 1961) ↩︎
16. Bob Brookmeyer: Portrait of the Artist (Atlantic, 1960) ↩︎
17. Rusch, Bob: Bob Enevoldsen (Cadence, April 1991 p.6-16,22) ↩︎
18. Venables, Ralph: Brad Gowans (Jazz Music 1947, no. 6, p.9-13) ↩︎

Thanks to Bo Haufman and the Duke Ellington Society of Sweden

This is the last article in the series about Premiered by Ellington. The little known album recorded in April 1953 for Capitol Records. The recordings from this period is not appreciated very much. Ellington was challenged in terms of popularity and finances, and it is therefore assumed that the music was nothing special either.

Ellington always had an open ear for new trends in music. The idea about revisiting film and show tunes from the 20s and 30s was one of them, and this is exactly what we get here. And if you listen to live recordings from the period, there are many more of these standard tunes, as we call them today. Another thing was the mambo craze, and of cause he had to try that too.

In all periods of his career he recorded pop music. Some more than others, but he always made art music as well. They go hand in hand, and it’s not possible to draw a straight line between the two.

And now to the three last songs…

#6: Stardust is composed by Hoagy Carmichael with lyrics by Mitchell Parish. It was first performed at the Cotton Club in 1927 by Ellington, but curiously enough not recorded at the time. It doesn’t show up in Duke’s discography until 1940 in two concert performances. In 1950 a studio recording by The Ellingtonians with Al Hibbler was made, however, Ellington left the piano to Billy Strayhorn on this particular recording. The 1953 version is the only studio recording by the Ellington band, and I’m pretty sure Strayhorn played piano on this one too.

The first version of Stardust recorded at Hotel Sherman in Chicago in 1940 (released on CD by DESS) features Herb Jeffries on vocal and solos by Barney Bigard on clarinet and Johnny Hodges on alto sax. The recording is unfortunately incomplete, but the almost 3 minutes we get is worth listening to. After Jeffries vocal, there is an orchestral interlude and when Bigard plays the verse. The use of the whole tone scale, in a similar way to Don Redman’s Chant of the Weed, at the beginning and in the transition between Bigard and Hodges solo, is interesting. Also worth noting is Ellington’s Gershwin-esque piano intro.

The second recording, done just a month or two later at The Crystal Ballroom in Fargo, is totally different. This version, unfortunately also incomplete, features Ben Webster and the rhythm section with a simple accompaniment from the orchestra. Not very interesting from an arrangement point of view, but Webster manages very well without a lot of background scoring!

The third version, recorded at Carnegie Hall in December 1943, features Shorty Baker on trumpet as the only soloist. The first chorus is with the rhythm section only. From the second chorus on, the band plays an accompaniment to Baker’s solo scored by his wife Mary Lou Williams. Much of it consist of a repeated figure, but there are some chromatic passages added for variation. From an arrangement point of view this version certainly is more interesting than Fargo, although it get’s a little stiff at times. But from a solo perspective, it’s just the opposite. Here it is Webster who throws himself into an over 4 minute long improvisation where he only hints at the melody. Baker, on the other hand, stays close to the melody most of the time.

The 1953 version, the actual subject of this article, is once again a completely new arrangement. This time the soloist is trumpeter Clark Terry. The 12 bar intro, arranged by Ellington, is based on the A section and played by the saxes in parallel harmonies. The first 8 bars sounds exactly like the first A of the song, but when we get to bar 9 (0:25), we discover that it was actually the intro we listened to. Then Clark Terry enters and plays the whole 32 bar ABAC song, accompanied by beautiful sustained chords from the orchestra. This part of the arrangement is written by Billy Strayhorn. Notice how he switches from chords to unison just at the right moments. And thats all, 12 bars of intro and 1 chorus of the song.

In 1957 the same arrangement was captured live on tape, and later released on the album All Star Road Band. On this occasion, the solo responsibility was left to Shorty Baker instead of Clark Terry who was still in the trumpet section. The arrangement was also expanded with an extra chorus. Baker plays beautifully, and I must admit that I prefer his interpretation to Terry’s. Notice his quote from the verse at the end. This once again shows that an Ellington arrangement was never set in stone, and that he constantly worked on improving his music.

#7: Stormy Weather is composed Harold Arlen and Ted Koehler, and was premiered by Ellington at The Cotton Club in 1933 with Ethel Waters on vocal. The same year the band recorded an instrumental version. The song also appeared in the film Bundle of Blues with Ivie Anderson on vocal, and in 1940 she recorded it on disc.Here i will focus on the 1933 instrumental version and compare it to 1953.

Like most of the songs on the album, Stormy Weather is also in AABA form, but with a slight difference. The 2^nd and 3^rd A is expanded to 10 bars, instead of the usual 8.

Stormy Weather 1933, 1^st chorus

Intro(6 bars) (0:00)	A1(8) (0:15)	A2(10) (0:38)	B(8) (1:06)	A3(10) (1:28)
Fanfare Solo piano Saxes	Solo: Whetsel Accompaniment: Saxes	Solo: Williams Acc: Saxes	Solo: Brown Acc: Saxes	Solo: Brown Acc: Saxes

The 1933 version starts with a short fanfare based on the first phrase of the tune, and then trumpeter Arthur Whetsel enters, playing the melody with solo tone mute. On A2 trumpeter Cootie Williams is playing the melody with plunger mute, and then trombonist Lawrence Brown takes over on B and A3. The second chorus, Ellington skips the first two A’s and jumps straight to B.

Stormy Weather 1933, 2^nd chorus

B(8) (1:56)	A(13) (2:19)
Solo: Carney Acc: Brass	Solo: Bigard Acc: Brass and saxes.

Harry Carney is the baritone sax soloist on B, and on the last A Barney Bigard takes over on clarinet. At the end, the last phrase repeats while the tempo gradually slows down. Sonny Greer’s vibraphone ends the track.

On the first chorus, the soloists are accompanied by the saxophone group throughout, and on the second (half) chorus the accompaniment is by the brass, except for the ending where the saxophones returns. A bit monotonous you could say, but by doing so, Ellington puts the focus on the soloists. What makes the record interesting to listen to, are the soloists and the different variations and colours they add to the song. The contrast between Whetsel’s sweet tone playing and Williams growl trumpet for example, or Carney’s playing on the top of his horn followed by Bigard in the lowest register of the clarinet is huge. I also find it interesting that Ellington chose to have Brown play two sections of the song instead of one like the other soloists. By doing so he avoids monotony just at the right moment. Another more subtle variation is that bassist Wellman Braud switches to 4 beat on the B sections.

Stormy Weather 1953, 1^st chorus

Intro(2bars) (0:00)	A1(8) (0:06)	A2(10) (0:29)	B(8) (0:59)	A3(8) (1:24)
Rhythm section	Solo: Carney Sustained chords	Solo: Cook (cup) +unison saxes	Solo: Nance (plunger) Repeated fig.	Solo: Carney Trombones

The 1953 version, arranged by Billy Strayhorn, takes a similar approach. After the intro, Harry Carney plays the melody on baritone sax. A2 is Willie Cook on cup muted trumpet, and trumpeter Ray Nance plays B with the plunger. Then Carney returns for A3.

Comparing this to the 1933 version, we see that the approach is similar in many ways. The idea of having multiple soloists presenting the tune is the same. Carney is still at the top of his horn, but this time playing the A section. Cook has taken over Arthur Whelsel’s sweet tone role, and Nance is now doing the plunger work, but on the B section instead.

The accompaniment, on the other hand, is quite different. The harmonies are more advanced, and the instrumentation is more varied. It starts with some mysterious sounding chords that grab your attention right away. B is saxes with clarinet lead doing a repeated rhythmic figure behind Nance, and then the trombones takes over on A3. It is also worth noting the transitions from A1 to A2 played by the saxes, and from A2 to B played by Ellington.

Stormy Weather 1953, 2^nd chorus

C(12 bars) (1:49)	A(12) (2:27)
Solo: Anderson Tutti	Solo: Anderson Climax

But what follows now really makes the arrangement stand out from the 1933 version. Here Strayhorn breaks away from the AABA form by introducing a new 12 bar section. It has Cat Anderson playing first in the normal range of the trumpet, and then, on the A section that follows, playing in the extreme high register that he mastered so well. This new section is actually taken from Ethel Waters 1933 recording of the song and appears to be unique for her (to my knowledge at least). Anderson does a great job with the solo, and the accompaniment fits like a glove. The A section that follows is the climax. After that they bring it down, and it all ends with a mysterious Ellington piano solo.

#8: Cocktails for Two is written byArthur Johnston and Sam Coslow and debuted in the film Murder at the Vanities in 1934. Ellington appeared in several films around that time, including the previous mentioned Belle of the Nineties. Coslow was a songwriter at Paramount Pictures, and it was due to him that the Ellington band appeared in Murder at the Vanities. While in Los Angeles they also found time to make commercial recordings of many of the hit songs from the movies, including Cocktails for Two. Here I will focus on that recording and compare it to the 1953 version.

This is yet another AABA song, and Ellington’s 1934 treatment is similar in many ways to the other 30s recordings mentioned in these articles. The song is played 3 times with a 4 bar piano intro, and the melody is present all the time, and played by many different soloists. When studied a little closer, there are of cause some interesting details worth pointing out.

Cocktails for Two 1934, 1^st chorus

Intro (0:00)	A1 (0:08)	A2 (0:23)	B (0:38)	A3 (0:54)
Solo piano	Solo: Carney Accompaniment: Muted tpt’s and open trombones	Solo: Whetsel (cup) Acc: Trombones	Saxes and Whetsel	Carney and saxes

As can be seen from above, the melody is distributed between Harry Carney on baritone sax, Arthur Whetsel on cup muted trumpet and the saxophone section. The accompaniment, on the other hand, is more varied than usual. On A1 Carney is answered by the muted trumpets, but after 4 bars the trombones takes over. On B the melody switches back and forth between the sax section and Whetsel, and on A3 Carney is back with the tune for 4 bars, and then the sax section takes over.

Cocktails for Two 1934, 2nd chorus

A1 (1:09)	A2 (1:25)	B (1:41)	A3 (1:57)
Solo: Brown Acc: Saxes	Brown and saxes	Brass	Brown and saxes

On the second chorus, trombonist Lawrence Brown is introduced as a new soloist. On A1 he is accompanied by the saxes, and A2 is a dialogue between the two. Then the brass takes over on B, and on A3 we are back to the saxes and Brown’s solo trombone.

Cocktails for Two 1934, 3rd chorus

A1 (2:13)	A2 (2:29)	B (2:45)	A3 (7 bars) (3:01)	Ending (3:15)
Solo: Bigard Acc: Brass	Sim.	Solo: Hodges Sustained brass chords	Solo: Brown Tutti acc.	Orchestral

On the third chorus, clarinettist Barney Bigard is the new soloist. He plays the first two A’s accompanied by the brass section playing a repeated staccato figure. Johnny Hodges, alto sax, picks up the melody on B, but now accompanied by sustained chords. Brown is back on A3 accompanied by the full band.

On the 1953 version the harmonies are much more advanced, and the soloists depart much further from the melody. The tempo is also slower and the bass has switched from two to four. But the idea of having many soloists adding their personal touch to the song is the same. Walter van de Leur doesn’t list this arrangement in his book, but I don’t think there is much doubt that this is a Billy Strayhorn arrangement.

Cocktails for Two 1953, 1^st chorus

Intro (0:00)	A1 (0:11)	A2 (0:32)	B (0:54)	A3 (1:16)
Rhythm section	Solo: Tizol Acc: Tutti	Sim.	Solo: Nance Acc: Saxes	Solo: Nance Acc: Tutti

Juan Tizol is the main soloist on his C valve trombone, pitched one tone higher than a standard trombone. He plays the melody in legit style, and is answered by some curious double time figures played by the rest of the horns. The juxtaposition between the sentimental melody and the mysterious harmonies is very unusual, but also very enjoyable. On B, trumpeter Ray Nance is the soloist accompanied by sustained saxophones chords. This accompaniment gives him plenty of freedom to play with the song, which he takes good advantage of. On A3 the accompaniment becomes more active again.

Cocktails for Two 1953, 2^nd chorus

A2 (1:38)	B (2:00)	A3(6 bars) (2:22)	Ending (2:39)
Solo: Hamilton Acc: Saxes and trombones	Solo: Gonsalves Acc: Bass and drums	Solos: Gonsalves, Tizol Acc: Saxes and trombones?	Rhythm section

It is common practice to skip the first two A’s on the last chorus, especially on ballads. We heard that in My Old Flame and Stormy Weather. But on Cocktails For Two, Strayhorn/Ellington only skips A1, witch is very unusual. We have two new soloists here, Jimmy Hamilton on clarinet and Paul Gonsalves on tenor sax. On B he is backed only by bass and drums as a contrast to all intricate harmonies. Gonsalves plays B and the first 4 bars of A3, and then Tizol gently enters with the melody again, and the record ends with Ellington’s piano like it all started.

Author: Rasmus Henriksen

Film versions:

My old flame, Belle of the Nineties (1934): https://www.dailymotion.com/video/xull29

Three little words, Check and Double Check (1930): https://youtu.be/nZJB_jdAW7o?t=115

Three little words, The lady refuses (1931): https://youtu.be/bk0qKWEn88M?t=829

Flamingo, Soundies (1941): https://youtu.be/9ZJYAO3ouDg

Story Weather, Bundle of Blues (1933): https://youtu.be/XgPIdTMHN0o?t=99

Cocktails for Two, Murder at the Vanities (1934): https://youtu.be/PGE0VTWkwIM

Playlists:

YouTube: https://youtube.com/playlist?list=PLgxyvAJ7ufD9QWR9pn0Tc-67mH6uEdDq2

Deezer: https://deezer.page.link/APEb37oFhzoGQeav5

Sources:

Uncredited liner notes from Premiered By Ellington (Capitol H440)

Liner notes by Stanley Dance from The Complete Capitol Recordings (Mosaic CD box)

www.ellingtonia.com

Ted Gioia: Did Duke Ellington and George Gershwin Have a Secret Rivalry? https://tedgioia.substack.com/p/did-duke-ellington-and-george-gershwin?s=r

Walter van de Leur: Something To Live For (Oxford University Press)

John Edward Hasse: Beyound Category (Omnibus Press)

Fred Glueckstein: Murder at the Vanities (DESS Bulletin nr 3, September 2016)

Fred Glueckstein: Belle of the Nineties (DESS Bulletin nr 3, September 2017)

Thanks to Sven-Erik Baun Christensen for helping identifying the soloists.

In the third article in the series about the album Premiered by Ellington, we will take a closer look at three more songs.

#3: I Can’t Give You Anything But Love is composed by Jimmy McHugh with lyrics by Dorothy Fields. It was first played by Ellington from a simple lead sheet in 1928, and later that year it appeared in the Broadway revue Blackbirds of 1928. Ellington recorded the song several times from 1928 and on, and it stayed in the repertoire till the end of his career. Here I will focus on the second recording from November 10 1928, The Blackbird Medley from 1933, and of cause the 1953 version.

The song is written in 32 bar ABAC form. The 1928 version has 4 choruses and a 4 bar intro. It all starts with an introduction very similar to Black Beauty, recorded 7 months earlier. On the first chorus, trumpeter Arthur Whetsel is featured along with the sax section. Both plays fine variations on the song. On the 2^nd chorus, Irving Mills vocal is in the spotlight, with Freddie Jenkins doing an improvised obbligato on muted trumpet. The 3^rd chorus is split between Tricky Sam Nanton playing the melody and Baby Cox’s scat singing. The last chorus features Johnny Hodges with Barney Bigard ad libbing on top, and a simple repeated accompaniment from the rest of the horns. With the exception of a slightly shaky ending, this is a good and swinging version of the song.

Blackbird Medley from 1933 takes up two sides of a 10″ record, and contains 6 songs total. The first song is I Can’t Give You Anything But Love. Only one chorus is played here plus a half at the end of the medley. The tempo is much slower than the 1928 version, and the harmonies are more advanced. The trumpet soloist, Arthur Whetsel, plays the melody accompanied by sustained chords. The idea of chords in 3 breat groupings that were used on the 1930 version of My Old Flame is also used here. On the B section the trombones takes over the melody, and after that Whetsel is back.

Now we take a look at the 1953 version. It consist of two choruses and a 4 bar intro, and features Russel Procope on clarinet, Ray Nance on trumpet and Quentin Jackson on trombone. These guys was often Ellington’s choice when an imitation of the traditional dixieland line up was needed.

I Can’t Give You Anything But Love 1953, 1^st chorus

Intro (0:00)	A1 (0:10)	B (0:31)	A2 (0:53)	C (1:14)
Clarinet, Piano, Bass	Solo: Procope (clarinet.) Sustained chords	Melody: Trombone’s Obbligato: Procope	Melody: Procope and Carney (clarinet + bass cl.) Sustained chords	Sim. Solo: Hamilton (last two bars)

The cheerful interpretation from 1928 has now completely disappeared in favor of a more melancholic and pensive style, typical of the Capitol period, and the tempo is even slower than the 1933 version. Procope’s clarinet is in the spotlight right from the start. Notice the intro with only clarinet, piano and bass. On A1 he plays the melody accompanied by mysterious sounding chords played by the trumpet section. On B the trombones takes over, very similar to the 1933 version. The way the chords moves around chromatically makes it sounds like they are about to leave tonality. After that Procope and Harry Carney (bass clarinet) plays the melody in octaves in legit style, rhythmically very identical to Whetsel in 1933.

I Can’t Give You Anything But Love 1953, 2^nd chorus

A1 (1:36)	B (1:58)	A2 (2:20)	C (2:41)
Solo: Jackson (plunger) Acc: Clarinets and tenor	Sim.	Solo: Nance Acc: Clarinets and tenor	Dixieland ending Trombones plays the melody. Procope & Jackson ad lib.

The 2^nd chorus consist of two solo’s and a dixieland ending. Jackson get’s the longest solo (16 bars.) The first 4 measures he plays the melody completely straight, and then he begins to vary it both rhythmically and melodically. He uses the plunger to good effect. Nance only gets 8 bars and his solo is completely improvised. They are both accompanied, very interestingly, by a trio consisting of clarinet, bass clarinet and tenor sax. The trio plays 3-part harmony in open position with Hamilton on top, Paul Gonsalves in the middle and Carney on the bottom. It is quite impressive how well Gonsalves manages to blend with the clarinets. On C the remaining two trombone’s plays the melody in the background in legit style, with Procope and Jackson (open horn this time) ad-libbing in typical dixieland style.

#4: Liza is composed by George Gershwin with lyrics by Ira Gershwin and Gus Kahn. Ellington and the band appeared on stage in Florenz Ziegfeld’s musical Show Girl in 1929, and Liza was the shows biggest hit. Despite that, the song doesn’t appear in Ellington’s discography until 1939 in a live recording as part of a medley. The 1953 recording is the only studio version. A few live recordings from 1953-54 has also survived, but after that it wasn’t captured on tape again.

Most of the songs on Premiered by Ellington were recorded immediately after their release in film, musicals or the like, so why didn’t they record Liza? In a 1935 interview, Ellington showed dislike for Gershwin new jazz opera Porgy and Bess, and this has led to the conclusion that he didn’t like Gershwins music in general. If that is true, it is certainly not audible in the 1953-54 recordings that i have heard. At least half of the 8 tunes on Premiered by Ellington was arranged by Strayhorn, but my guess is that Liza was arranged by Ellington.

Liza 1953, 1^st chorus

Intro (0:00)	A1 (0:11)	A2 (0:22)	B (0:33)	A3 (0:44)
Piano & bass duet	Inst. 1(4 bars) Inst. 2(4 bars)	Inst. 1(4) Solo: Terry (4)	Solo: Gonsalves + background	Inst. 1(4) Solo: Terry (4)

Liza is also in 32 bar AABA form. After the 8 bar dialog between Ellington and bassist Wendell Marshall, the tune is stated by two different types of instrument combinations. I have named them Inst.1 and 2. Inst.1 is, from what I can hear, the saxes with Ray Nance’s plungertrumpeton top. Inst. 2 is a 4 part tutti ensemble. Both Ellington and Strayhorn wrote 4 part harmony on one staff, and then the copyist distributed the notes to the individual instruments according to a specific formula. A technique that was used a lot.

The 2^nd chorus is a trombone solo by Britt Woodman accompanied by the rhythm section with occasional backgrounds by the three lowest saxes. The 3^rd chorus is Jimmy Hamilton on clarinetand Poul Gonsalves on tenor sax playing a bebop line in octaves. It’s one of the highlights in the arrangement, so much that they actually played it twice at a concert recorded just 3 weeks later! A similar line was also part of the arrangement of Perdido on the Ellington Uptown album.

Liza 1953, 4^th chorus

A1 (2:22)	A2 (2:33)	B (2:44)	A3 (2:55)
Solo: Carney (4) + ensemble shout. Solo: Ellington (4)	Sim.	Solo: Henderson	Hamilton + Gonsalves in octaves. Ensemble shout

As you can see above, the arranger often divides the 8 bar sections into two, thereby creating a call and response effect. Sometimes between two instrument combinations, sometimes between the band and a soloist, and also between two soloists. On B we get a rare solo from Rick Henderson. He was one of the be-bop inspired musicians that Ellington hired in the beginning of the 50s. He only stayed a couple of years and didn’t play many solos with the band. On A3 Hamilton and Gonsalves are back playing in octaves accompanied by a shouting ensemble.

#5: Flamingo is written by Ted Grouya with lyrics by Edmund Anderson, and first recorded by the Ellington band in December 1940. They recorded the tune again several times the following year, most notably for Standard Radio Transcription in September, and later that year, a film version for Soundies was made. In all instances the singer was Herb Jeffries. Flamingo was a regular part of the repertoire well into the 50s, and even shows up in the discography as late as 1972. Here I will focus on the 1940 version and compare it to 1953, both by the way, arranged by Billy Strayhorn.

First we take a look at the the 1940 version. Like most of the songs discussed here, Flamingo is also in AABA form, but Strayhorn expanded the last A to 14 bars. Here is an overview of the first chorus.

Flamingo 1940, 1^st chorus

Intro(8 bars) (0:00)	A1(8) (0:22)	A2(8) (0:40)	B(8) (0:58)	A3(14) (1:16)
Rubato, Tutti. Trb solo: Tizol	Vocal: Jeffries Brass: off beat staccato chords. Saxes: sustained chords Piano: Strayhorn Key: Db major	Sim.	Saxes more active. Sustained brass chords	Sim. to previous A’s Modulation.

It all starts with Tizol playing the first three notes of the song, answered by a trumpet as an echo. After that, the whole band enters very dramatically and then brings it down to make room for Jeffries vocal. Notice, just before the vocal enters, the brass plays a few staccato chords. This is the basic idea for the brass section the whole first chorus. By introducing this idea before the chorus starts, Strayhorn creates a smooth and coherent transition into A1.

The whole song is basically two times AABA with an intro. But the transition that Strayhorn has created between the two is the work of genius. From bar 7 in A3 (1:31) Jeffries sings, technically speaking, a downward sequence of major and minor thirds with a minor seconds in between. It is no coincidence that these are the intervals that Strayhorn has chosen, because they are very prominent in the song, and that is one of the reasons why it works so well. At the same time, the arrangement is in the process of modulating to another key. It’s a slow modulation starting in Db major, going through A major and finally ending in Ab major at the start of the second chorus (1:50).

Flamingo 1940, 2^nd chorus

A1(8 bars) (1:48)	A2(8) (2:06)	B(8) (2:24)	A3(14) (2:43)	Ending(2) (3:14)
Bar two and three repeated by different sections. Trb solo: Brown Modulation continues. Key: Ab	Brown cont. Key: F Modulation continues.	Alto solo: Hodges Key: D (or F) Modulation continues.	Vocal: Jeffries Key: Db	Trombones Piano: Strayhorn Key: Db

At this point, one would expect the new key to be fixed. But Strayhorn continues to modulate. On A2 we are suddenly in F major, and shortly before the B section we are in D major. But when we get to B, we are suddenly in F major. This leads me to another point. The song itself points in many directions tonally right from the start. At the beginning (1st chorus) it is clearly in Db major, but already in measure 3 it sounds more like Db minor. On the B section it passes E major and then back to Db major (and minor) on A3. When Hodges begins his solo on B (in the 2nd chorus) we are in D major, but it sounds like F major because the song itself modulates at this point, and that was the key we were in on A2. When it modulates back to Db major on A3 where Jeffries are back on the vocal. So all the way from the 7^th bar of the first A3 (1:29) until Jeffries re-enters on the second A3 (2:43), Strayhorn creates a constant flowing tonality. This is just one aspect of the arrangement that makes it so special.

The attentive reader may have noticed that Strayhorn consistently modulates in minor thirds in the second chorus. According to Walter van de Leur’s book Something To Live For, it was something he often did. I like to call this technique “the circle of minor thirds,” and he probably got this idea through studying modern classical music.

Another thing worth pointing out, is that the shape of the song, like the tonal center, is also blurred at one point. In the first chorus the saxophones clearly signal the transition from one section to the next. But the transition from A3 to A1 is different, because A3 has no clear end. The 6 extra bars that Strayhorn has added is one part of the explanation. Another is the fact that Jeffries sings “fla-min-go” on A1. But instead of singing another chorus, he sings it as an ending. Then the muted trumpets continues the melody answered by two trombone, and after that Lawrence Browns solo starts. On the 2^nd bar of A2 Jeffries sings “fla-min-go” again.

The 1953 version is a very attractive one. Quite different in many ways, but there is also many similarities if we look a little closer. The main difference is, that it’s an instrumental version. The tempo is also slower and it has that melancholy, reflective sound, typical for the Capitol era.

Flamingo 1953, 1^st chorus

Intro(2 bars) (0:00)	A1(8) (0:05)	A2(8) (0:26)	B(8) (0:47)	A3(14) (1:09)
Orchestra	Pno. solo: Ellington Sustained chords accompaniment. Clarinet trio. Key: F major	Sim.	Sim.	Solo: Gonsalves Modulation

In the first chorus, Ellington has taken the lead role that belonged to Jeffries. Here accompanied by sustained chords from the orchestra. A clarinet trio is heard now and then. A3 is also expanded to 14 bars and contains a slow modulation, but it’s not the same. The arranger here modulates up a forth instead of a fifth.

Flamingo 1953, 2^nd chorus

A1(8 bars) (1:47)	A2(8) (2:08)	B(8) (2:31)	A3(11) (2:53)	Ending (3:24)
Solo: Nance (viol.) Sustained chords Key: Bb	Sim.	Melody: low ensemble. obbligato: Nance Key: A (or C)	Solo: Gonsalves Key: Ab	Solo pno: Ellington Key: F

Then Ray Nance plays a beautiful violin solo based on the song with his typical dry sound. I sometimes wonder if he uses a mute to help getting’ this special sound? On B we have a very unique sounding low tutti ensemble. The key is now A major, but sounds like C for the same reason previously explained, and then Gonsalves are back on A3. It all ends with a mysterious piano solo by Ellington.

Author: Rasmus Henriksen

The 2^nd article about the little known Duke Ellington album Premiered by Ellington, and the following two, will focus on the music itself. Part 1, written by Ulf Lundin, is an introduction to the Capitol period in general. If you haven’t read it, it is available here: https://ellington.se/2023/01/14/premiered-by-ellington-part-1/

Premiered by Ellington consist of 8 songs, none of them written by Ellington or his associates. Instead we get new arrangements of familiar pop songs that were all introduced to the public by Ellington. It’s quite an impressive collection of tunes that is still well known today.

The following is an attempt to analyse the tracks one by one and compare them to previously recorded versions by Ellington. I do not have access to the original scores, so all is done by ear. To make it easier to follow, I have made charts that shows the overall form of the arrangements. It’s not possible, of cause, to put an Ellington recording into a simple chart, but they serve the purpose of giving you, the reader and listener, a general overview of the recording.

The music has been embedded into the articles for easy access, but is also available as playlists on YouTube and Deezer. The album itself has never been reissued on CD in it’s original form, but is available on the streaming services. Be aware that this version has the songs in the same order as the french pressing of the LP. I have decided to follow the original US release in this article. Happy listening.

#1: My Old Flame is composed by Arthur Johnston with lyrics by Sam Coslow, and was first performed by Mae West in the film Belle of the Nineties from 1934. Apart from being the main actress, she also wrote the original story that the film was based on. According to Fred Glueckstein’s article in the DESS Bulletin, it was also West who insisted on having the Ellington orchestra accompany her, instead of a white studio orchestra with colored actors faking on the screen.

In February and March that year, the band was in Los Angeles to record the music. On the same occasion, they also recorded music for Murder at the Vanities, which I will return to later. In May they were in LA again for more film recordings. On that occasion, a recording for RCA-Victor was also made, this time sung by Ivie Anderson.

Comparing the versions from 1934 with the 1953 recording, the first thing you notice is how much Ellington has developed in those 19 years! It is by no means just a simple remake of the song, but rather a completely new and much more modern interpretation. The changes that jazz went through in those years are clearly audible, both in the orchestra’s playing style and in the arrangement itself. The same can be said about all the other songs on the record, although there are also many similarities as we will discover along the way.

My Old Flame is a standard 32 bar AABA song. The Mae West version has a very simple two bar piano introduction, and then she sings one chorus, with Barney Bigard on clarinet and Lawrence Brown ontrombone, either ad-libbing behind her or doubling the melody. As an ending, the orchestra plays the A section again, this time in 3/4 time and at a faster tempo.

Ivie Anderson‘s version of the song is much more subtle. The introduction is based on the ending from the Mae West version, but here adapted to work in 4/4 time. After that, Ellington plays a short piano transition, and then Ivie Anderson enters. This time the ad-libbing is done by Lawrence Brown alone. Notice also that the saxes doubles the melody, while at the same time providing an interesting countermelody now and then.

The first two A sections in the 2^nd chorus (1:46) is a duet between Cootie Williams on trumpet and Johnny Hodges on alto sax. On the B section and the last A the saxes plays the melody in unison accompanied by the brass. Basically this version is just the AABA form played twice with an intro on top.

The 1953 version is not as straight ahead. Here is an overview of the first chorus. The arrangement is, according to Walter van de Leur’s book: Something To Live For, written by Billy Strayhorn.

My Old Flame 1953, 1^st chorus

Intro (5 bars) (0:00)	A1(0:16)	A2 (0:42)	B (1:09)	A3 (1:35)
Duet between Hamilton and Carney	Solo: Gonsalves Sustained chords background. Key: Bb major	Sim.	Sim. Saxes plays countermelody	Tutti, Hamilton ad-lib (4 bars) Gonsalves returns (last 4)

The introduction, much more harmonically advanced than in the previous versions, is a duet between Jimmy Hamilton on clarinet and Harry Carney on baritone sax, accompanied by the orchestra. Then tenor saxophonist Paul Gonsalves enters with the melody, phrasing much more freely than the singers did. The band supports him with sustained chords. Such a background could easily get boring. What makes it work in this situation, is first of all Strayhorns unique harmonic language! These mysterious sounding chords that instantly grab your attention and make you want to listen more. But also listen how he varies the instrumentation, adds a few rests at unexpected moments and varies the rhythm slightly.

On A3, the full band plays a variation on the melody, suddenly changing the dynamic from soft to very loud. Hamilton is soloing again, and then Gonsalves plays the last 4 bars.

My Old Flame 1953, 2^nd chorus

B (2:02)	A (2:28)
Melody: Hamilton Tutti accompaniment (4), trombones (4) Key: Bb	Tutti dbl. time feel Key: Db modulating back to Bb

In the 2^nd chorus, Strayhorn breaks the AABA form by going straight to the B section. This time, Hamilton is playing the melody accompanied by some very advanced harmonies! Then the trombone sections takes care of the accompaniment for the last 4 bars.

But Strayhorn has more tricks up his sleeve. After the unexpected B section, he modulates up a minor third from Bb major to Db for the last A section! This time the melody is stated by the trumpets accompanied by the orchestra. After 4 bars he goes into double time feel for the climax, and then brings it down with Hamilton and Gonsalves ad-libbing, ending in the key of Bb where it started.

It’s quite interesting that Strayhorn chose to change the texture and dynamic so radical at A3 in the first chorus. When combined with the removal of A1 and A2 in the 2^nd chorus, A3 now sounds more like the first A in the 2^nd chorus. In other words, it feels more like: “AAB, ABA” instead of the usual “AABA, BA” that is often used for ballads.

#2: Three Little Words is composed by Harry Ruby with lyrics by Bert Kalmar, and was premiered in the film Check and Double Check in 1930. In the movie, we see the Ellington orchestra performing with the three trumpet players doing the vocal part. According to the discography, it was actually played by a studio orchestra with The Rhythm Boys singing. Ellington did record the tune for the movie, but it ended up being used in the film The Lady Refuses (1931) instead. He also recorded the song on disc several times in 1930, but I will focus on the one from august 26 with The Rhythm Boys on vocal.

The song is also written in the standard 32 bar AABA form, but apart from My Old Flame, there are many similarities between the two versions of Three Little Words. A detail worth pointing out about the melody itself, is that the last phrase in each section is constructed in such a way, that it leads to the next section. This makes the AABA structure less clear, but instead gives the song a sense of constant momentum.

Three Little Words 1930, 1^st chorus

Intro (4 bars) (0:00)	A1 (0:07)	A2 (0:18)	B (0:29)	A3 (0:41)
Solo piano	Low clarinets in harmony	Muted trumpets	Saxes	Saxes

After the piano intro, the theme is stated in legit style by the three low clarinets playing in harmony. The melody is, very interesting, in the middle voice most of the time. On A2, muted trumpets takes over, and on B and A3 the saxes takes the lead.

Three Little Words 1953, 1^st chorus

Intro (8 bars) (0:00)	A1 (0:12)	A2 (0:25)	B (0:37)	A3 (0:50)
Piano and bass	Muted trombones Countermelody: Saxes	Sim.	Saxes	Sim. to previous A’s

The 1953 version also begins with a piano intro, but much more harmonically advanced. Then the muted trombones states the melody on the first two A’s, also in legit style, and with the two beat feeling preserved. The saxes adds an unison countermelody, and then takes over the melody on the B section with the bass in 4.

Three Little Words 1930, 2^nd chorus

A1 (0:52)	A2 (1:03)	B (1:14)	A3 (1:25)
Muted trumpets Bigard answers	Sim.	Sim.	Saxes with baritone lead. Brass plays bell-chords

On the 1930 version, the tune is stated again for the second chorus. Muted trumpets on AAB with fills by Barney Bigard on clarinet, and then the saxes takes over on the last A. Notice the baritone sax lead, and the bell-like chords in 3 beat groupings. The third chorus is sung by The Rhythm Boys with only the rhythm section and Bigard.

On the 1953 version, we get a beautiful trumpet solo by Willie Cook on the second chorus (1:03), accompanied by the rhythm section. The third chorus (1:53) is a tenor sax solo by Paul Gonsalves, heavily backed by a shouting brass section on the first two A’s. On B, Gonsalves is alone with the rhythm section, and then the brass returns on A3 for the ending.

The 1930 version has a fourth chorus (2:20), and it is a very interesting one. It’s the climax of the arrangement with the full band doing variations on the tune. Here, Ellington finally loosens up the rather rigid rhythmic interpretation of the song he has stuck to until now. Also notice how drummer Sonny Greer prepares this final chorus using only the hi-hat.

To sum it up: The first chorus of the 1953 version is quite faithful to the 1930 version. The very simple rhythmic interpretation of the melody played in parallel harmonies is preserved, along with the two beat feeling. The countermelody by the saxes add’s a modern touch to the arrangement. Apart from this, the two versions are very different. The 1930 version sticks to the melody all the way through, and only in the last chorus does Ellington vary the rhythmic interpretation of the song. In the 1953 version, the theme is only stated in the first chorus, and instead we get two choruses of improvised solos.

Author: Rasmus Henriksen