Dorothy Carless

Dorothy Carless was an English singer who worked with Ray Noble and Geraldo before coming to the US circa 1950. She then made three LPs (that I know of) and did not record again.

This makes her a somewhat obscure singer, I guess, but the way things happen these days, she is not forgotten, and two of her three albums are available on CD. This earliest effort is not, which is why I am offering it here on request. It was made for Commodore in 1953.

It is very welcome, for Carless was a talented singer who accompanied herself on piano here and on one of her later records. She presents four Arlen and four Weill songs, and not only the popular ones - Arlen's "In the Shade of the New Apple Tree" and Weill's "Foolish Heart" and "It Never Was You" are not heard that often.

By the time Carless made her 12-inch LPs later in the decade, her voice had lost some of its flexibility and  tended to wander off pitch. This record does not suffer in that respect, and is quite enjoyable. She sounds like a less stilted Mabel Mercer.

Django

This colorful cover heralds a collection of some of Django Reinhardt's greatest records, as issued on Angel in 1954, shortly after his death at age 43.

Django is hardly obscure - his entire recorded oeuvre is available on 20 CDs for those who are gaga over the gypsy guitarist. This post is merely designed to be a sampler for those who have not discovered his genius. It comes to us courtesy of my friend flyingfinger, whose rip this is, and quite a good one. Nice cover, too!

As his name may suggest, flyingfinger knows a great guitarist when he hears one, so this upload comes with an ironclad guarantee. If you don't like it, I will substitute any Les Paul record of your choice.

Copland and Thomson

This is a follow-up to my earlier post containing Virgil Thomson's music written for the film Louisiana Story, which came out in 1948. There are two suites pulled from this music - the one heard on the earlier post by the Philadelphia Orchestra under the composer's direction, and this one, called Acadian Songs and Dances, which contains music that Thomson derived from published folk collections.

In this performance, the Thomson is coupled with film music written by Aaron Copland, the Children's Suite from The Red Pony, from 1949.

Both suites were relatively new when this recording from the Little Orchestra Society and Thomas Scherman was issued in 1952. With the films' similarities in theme, setting and time, and the connection between the two composers, the two works make highly complementary companions on disc.

The performances from the New York-based ensemble are very fine, and the simple recording is excellent. It is a good example of what used to be called "hole in the wall" recording - that is, the recording is so coherent that it gives the impression of taking place behind the speaker. That's an effect I like, but the "hi-fi" crowd wanted things to be more close up, so the microphones got closer and more numerous and by the end of the decade multi-miked ping-pong stereo was in vogue.

The music here is simple, yet sophisticated in its own way, and the performance is highly sympathetic. This is another one of my favorite recordings, so I hope you enjoy it.

More Beethoven from Vienna and Böhm

I was so pleased with my first post of Beethoven from Vienna and Karl Böhm that I decided to prepare this 1955 version of the ninth symphony from that conductor, the Vienna Symphony, the Vienna State Opera Choir and four of the finest singers then active.

Big mistake on my part. The record, while generally in good shape, had two gouges that caused repeated sticking and skipping. I worked and worked on these patches until my admittedly limited supply of patience gave out. Exasperated, I turned instead to a Böhm-Berlin Philharmonic recording of the Missa Solemnis. And as soon as I finished transferring that performance, I discovered that DG had reissued it on CD, much to my surprise. (Since when did DG Originals reissue mono recordings?)

So I returned to this record with renewed determination and have been able to eradicate all the bad patches with the exception of one skip. (I apologize for that.)

What you will find upon listening is a well played and notably well sung performance with little of the solo squalling that often is heard in the symphony's fourth movement. And it is nicely recorded except for the usual close-ups on the soloists (and the triangle) in the final movement.

I believe this was recorded near the end of Böhm's tenure as director of the Vienna State Opera.

As for the hands on the cover, I'm not sure what they are supposed to signify. As far as I know, Bohm did not have two right hands, and the bony fingers are much more reminiscent of Otto Klemperer (at left) than Böhm.

REMASTERED VERSION - OCTOBER 2014

Sue Raney Singles

Sue Raney is one of our greatest living singers, although her name would surely be unfamiliar to most people. This post concentrates on her early years, when she already was a voice with few peers, collecting most of her non-album singles for Capitol and a few bonuses, all unreissued, as far as I can tell.

Raney was first heard on a single issued by small label from Kansas City (which I do not have). She was signed by Capitol in 1957, when she was 17, and soon thereafter, it issued the "promotional debut record" above, with one of the cool picture labels it was using for that purpose. Sue superbly handles the title tune from the teen-angst weepie The Careless Years. IMDb tells us that this was heard on the soundtrack as well, and she also did something called Butterfingers Baby, but I somehow let that number slip through my fingers and you won't find it here. (Actually, I don't think it was issued on record.) The reverse of The Careless Years is What's the Good Word, Mr. Bluebird, a conventional period pop item, but not unattractive.

Please Hurry Home and Don't Take My Happiness were next, followed by her vocal chorus on a Nelson Riddle record of Til There Was You, an excellent version that was issued even before The Music Man opened on Broadway. (Til There Was You is included as a bonus, but is not my transfer.) All these predate Raney's first LP.

The year 1958 brought My, My, How The Time Goes By and Periwinkle Blue, followed by 1958's The Restless Sea (quite wonderful vocalism, reminiscent of Ella) and Ever, Raney's own composition. Then there were I Don't Look Right Without You and Swingin' In A Hammock, and One Finger Symphony and The Word Got Around. The only Capitol items missing from this post are Biology and Too Soon, from 1960.

Later in the 60s, Raney moved on to Philips for one LP and no singles (as far as I know), then to Imperial for three LPs and a clutch of 45s. Even though the latter are outside this blog's time frame, I can't resist adding two of the Imperial singles to this post. The first is the title tune to the 1967 suspense film Wait Until Dark, a fine Mancini tune with Livingston and Evans supplying the words. This is backed by Parade (A Banda), a hectic Portuguese song that was popular back then.

The best record of this group - at least to me - is her version of Knowing When to Leave, a Bacharach-David song from the 1968 musical Promises, Promises (now being revived on Broadway). Her subtle singing, even amidst the busy Bill Byers arrangement and cramped recording, is a wonder. Too bad it's backed by the worst record of the bunch, the lamentable Early Morning Blues and Greens.

I have to say - this is one of my favorite all-time posts here, so I hope you enjoy these rare items by a singer of rare talent.

Louis Alter's Album of Manhattan

Louis Alter was a fairly well-known songwriter who made a specialty of Manhattan-themed music. This 10-inch LP collects several of those items as presented by Paul Whiteman's Concert Orchestra.

Whiteman had recorded Alter's first New York piece, Manhattan Serenade, in 1928, and it became quite popular. So Alter continued to write music inspired by the big city, to lesser effect, although all the items are attractive and redolent of other music of the period, including Gershwin.

Decca issued this particular LP in 1949, but I suspect the recordings were made about a decade earlier, although I haven't been able to confirm that. Whiteman made Gershwin recordings with the concert orchestra for Decca at that time, and these arrangements sound more like the 1930s than the late 1940s. I would guess that Decca reissued them later because of the popularity of Gordon Jenkins' Manhattan Tower.

The arrangements themselves are the work of George Leeman, who spent most of his career as an arranger for CBS, working 12 years with Arthur Godfrey. As for Alter, these days he is perhaps best known as the composer of Nina Never Knew, My Kinda Love, You Turned the Tables on Me, and Do You Know What It Means to Miss New Orleans. The download includes a vintage Billboard bio on him.

Sound is good - very much worth hearing if you like Gershwin and similar music of the period.

Friedrich Gulda at Birdland

We've examined a couple of records in which the jazz and classical worlds came together to produce something new. Now here is what happens when a renowned classical pianist shows up at a jazz shrine to play bop.

The pianist is Friedrich Gulda, the place is Birdland and the time is 1956. And the results could hardly be more successful.

Gulda was one of those remarkable artists who was equally proficient at Mozart and Monk. Here he and several well known jazzmen (see back cover below) perform Gulda's own compositions along with Night in Tunisia and Bernie's Tune. Gulda could not sound more at home (except he does not play the Night in Tunisia theme as the man wrote it).

Gulda, who was Viennese, won the Geneva International Competition in 1946, made his first recordings a few years later, and was already well known as a classical artist when this date was taped. At the time of these records, critics tended to lump him together with his fellow Viennese pianists Jörg Demus and Paul Badura-Skoda - but I would have a hard time imagining either of them coming out with Gulda's incendiary improvisation on Bernie's Tune.

Gulda had an unorthodox streak that later led him to mix jazz and classical pieces on the same program, to refuse awards, and to dress casually for concerts. Once he supposedly performed in the nude. I'm not sure if this improved the musical results or not - but in his honor I took my pants off while I dubbed this record, and it sounds pretty good!

Birdland's Pee Wee Marquette introduces him as "Frederick" Gulda. It could be that Gulda was using an anglicized version of his first name then, or it could be that Gulda didn't pay off Pee Wee. Legend has it that Marquette would deliberately mispronounce the names of artists who didn't tip him. Fred - pay the two dollars!

NEW LINK (remastered)

Ellis Larkins Plays Harold Arlen

Ellis Larkins is best known as an accompanist for Ella Fitzgerald and other singers, but he was a formidable artist on his own. This, his first solo LP, came soon after his first, classic Gershwin album with Ella. In it, his understated but sophisticated style is well matched with the melodies of Harold Arlen.

Larkins is a melodic improviser, with a sure sense of where he is going at all times. Allied to his strong rhythmic impulse, this gives his performances a pleasing sense of inevitability.

Larkins went on to a long career as a highly esteemed accompanist and solo artist in the clubs. He also made a number of records with another soft-spoken artist, cornetist Ruby Braff.

These songs were recorded in New York in June 1951 and January 1952. The sound was dead and distant; I have addressed this so that the results are a much better representation of what a piano actually sounds like. This was done at the cost of raising the noise level on what was a typically awful Decca pressing, so be prepared for some background noise. It's worth it, I think, to hear Ellis Larkins in his prime in great music.