Two Musical Odes to the Brooklyn Dodgers

Brooklyn now has a professional basketball team, and even had a hockey team for a short while, but way back when, its sports identity was focused on a baseball team - the legendary Dodgers.

Oh, the Dodgers still exist - on a distant promontory called Chavez Ravine in Los Angeles, as far away from Brooklyn as it is possible to be in the continental United States. That's the way it has been since 1957.

Even though I was a passionate Cleveland Indians fan, the eight-year-old me hated to see the Dodgers leave Ebbets Field, and hated just as much the thought of the New York Giants vacating the peculiar environs of the Polo Grounds for a new home on San Francisco Bay.

Brooklyn has always been a favorite subject for musicians. In years past, there were many recorded odes to the beloved borough. A quick scan turns up a "Brooklyn Boogie," "Brooklyn Polka," "Brooklyn Stomp," "Brooklyn Bounce," "Brooklyn Cake-Walk," "Brooklyn Bridge," "Cowboy from Brooklyn," "Born and Bred in Brooklyn," "Give Me the Moon Over Brooklyn," and "I'm Gonna Hang My Hat on a Tree in Brooklyn," plus the baseball odes that are the subjects of today's post - Robert Merrill in the "Brooklyn Baseball Cantata," and three 1948 Dodgers players doing "The Brooklyn Dodgers Jump."

The Brooklyn Baseball Cantata

"The Brooklyn Baseball Cantata" is a highly amusing piece that is brilliantly done here by baritone Robert Merrill (1917-2004), a native of the borough, along with Russ Case's orchestra and singers.

The music is by George Kleinsinger, best known for his 1946 hit, "Tubby the Tuba." He (Kleinsinger, not Tubby) worked with writer Michael Stratton on this 1937 piece that once was part of a failed Broadway review, then was revived in 1948 for the talents of Merrill, who was equally at home in pop music and at the Metropolitan Opera.

Merrill has been heard around these parts in the 1952 soundtrack to Aaron Slick from Punkin Creek, an undignified endeavor that caused Met supremo Rudolf Bing to ban him from the premises for a time.

Russ Case and Robert Merrill

Bing was not around for the "Brooklyn Baseball Cantata," so it did not get Merrill in trouble. There's no reason why it should have - it's a lively work of only 12 minutes duration that ends happily (unlike "Casey at the Bat"), with the Dodgers besting their hated rivals the New York Yankees. (This was a fantasy; when the record came out in 1948, the Dodgers had most recently lost to the Yankees in the 1947 World Series.)

Ironically, Merrill later would become closely associated with the despised Bronx Bombers. For many years they had him sing the National Anthem on Opening Day and other occasions. His recorded rendition can still be heard at Yankee Stadium from time to time.

Robert Merrill in the land of the free and the home of the Yankees

The Brooklyn Dodgers Jump

It's unknown - at least to me - which baseball player was the first to enter the recording studio and demonstrate his lack of vocal prowess. I suspect that it's been going on so long that Thomas Edison may have been at the controls.

In general, major leaguers are team-oriented and tend to make such vocal endeavors group efforts; the thinking perhaps may be that several tone-deaf singers can somehow equal one who can sing.

"The Brooklyn Dodgers Jump" is a good example of the genre. It dates from 1947 and features rightfielder Carl Furillo and pitchers Ralph Branca and Erv Palica, who display more enthusiasm than skill on this unfamiliar playing field.

By genre, the "Brooklyn Dodgers Jump" is a jump blues, although it unexpectedly utilizes an accordion rather than saxophone as lead instrument. The whole thing goes on and on, across two sides of the 78, rambling through Dodgers history, the current team, the owners, and anything else the authors could think of.

Honestly, I've heard a lot worse. Heck, I've posted worse (and better). If you check this post, you can hear Dizzy Dean sing "Wabash Cannonball" after a southern fashion and Don Drysdale croon a Sinatra tune, quite well actually. Also there's a promo record for Carling's Black Label Beer backed with "Take Me Out to the Ballgame."

Then there is this item, in which trumpeter Henry "Hot Lips" Levine plays his composition "Indian Uprising." He dedicated this number to the old Cleveland Indians, who this year have been renamed the Guardians. (They are apparently guarding the Indians' legacy of not having won a World Series since 1948.) Oh well, at least the team is still around, under one name or another!

Please enjoy these artifacts that I disinterred from the Internet Archive and refurbished for my amusement and perhaps yours.

Bei Mir Bist du Pork and Beans

Something (probably money) motivated the Campbell Soup Co. to put out a promotional record called the "Pork and Beans Review" in 1950, and star the Andrews Sisters in the production.

It's not clear how the three-minute spot was used, but the tie-in was certainly the long-running radio show "Double or Nothing," which was sponsored at the time by Campbell's Pork and Beans.

Appropriately, Campbell's offered double your money back to anyone who didn't think that its pork and beans was "the best you EVER tasted," in the emphatic words of Lou Crosby, the radio show's producer.

The Andrews Sisters

The Andrews Sisters were brought in for entertainment purposes and both spoke and sang in unison for this spot. In the process we get to hear them yodel this take-off on their best-known hit: "Bei mir bist du pork / Bei mir bist du beans / Bei mir bist du Campbell's Pork and Beans." This would translate as follows: "To me you are pork / To me you are beans / To me you are Campbell's Pork and Beans." Hardly terms of endearment.

But then, the sisters were talented and could make anything sound good, even working in parodies of "The Man on the Flying Trapeze" and "The Fountain in the Park" into the spot. It's a lively and well produced little promo.

Also taking part in the proceedings (and singing along) was the radio program's long-time host, Walter O'Keefe.

I found this gem on the Internet Archive, the source of many such promo items hereabouts.

The "Double or Nothing" set, 1950, with Walter O'Keefe gesticulating at the microphone

Ralph Flanagan Intros His 1949 Records

Bandleader Ralph Flanagan was a hot commodity in 1949. So hot that RCA Victor records gave him a tremendous publicity push. After the success of his first single on the revived Bluebird label, Victor decided to release four Flanagan singles at once - and a special promotional record along with them.

This promo was designed for airplay. In it, Flanagan introduces each of his eight new single sides. The idea was that the disc jockey would introduce Flanagan, and the bandleader would then tee up each of his records. The whole thing would add up to a 30-minute show, which I've recreated (sans the DJ intro) for this post.

Victor founded its Bluebird subsidiary as a budget line in 1932, the depth of the Great Depression. It was highly successful with both genre artists and pop attractions, including the Glenn Miller band.

Deejay George Sanders interviews Ralph Flanagan

RCA folded the label after World War II only to bring it back in 1949. Appropriately, one of its first signings was Flanagan, one of several Miller-clone bands that popped up after the war. Interestingly, Victor also employed the official Glenn Miller "ghost" band, led by Tex Beneke, but Tex wanted to develop his own sound, so by 1950 he and the Miller estate parted ways.

Flanagan had no such compunctions, having recorded a Miller tribute for the small Rainbow label as far back as 1947.

Imitating the Miller sound wasn't considered a bad thing at the time - one of the many positive reviews in the download enthused that the Flanagan band was "styled to perfection after the mood and manner of the late Glenn Miller crew." It was so successful that other labels considered starting their own Miller-style bands - and Decca did so with former Miller arranger Jerry Gray.

Flanagan's was quite a good band, with excellent arrangements by the leader and sterling section work. Several Miller alums played on this date, including Billy Butterfield, Al Klink and Ernie Caceres. Also on hand were such stalwarts as Jimmy Maxwell, Buddy Morrow, and Bob Haggart. (There is a photo of the band in this post on my other blog.) 

Harry Prime

Each 78 release was designed to have one new song backed by a standard. The new song would be a cover of a tune that was becoming popular. As Flanagan mentions in one of his introductions, the idea was to give a dance-band slant to songs that were best known for hit versions by pop vocalists. One example is "Don't Cry, Joe," a Sinatra tune that here is presented in a danceable fashion by Flanagan, with a good vocal by Harry Prime.

Another, less successful item is "Whispering Hope," a hit by Jo Stafford and Gordon MacRae, which suits neither Flanagan nor Prime.

Harry had been featured by Randy Brooks, Tommy Dorsey and Jack Fina, but his greatest success was with Flanagan from 1949-54. He had a lovely voice, and while he was variable as an interpreter, at his best he was most pleasing. The Flanagan band did tend to quick tempos, and on such fare as "Tell Me Why" Prime lags behind the beat, suggesting that he might be happier with a little less pep from the bandleader's baton.

This 2005 interview with Prime (who died in 2017) suggests that he didn't much like Flanagan, who was uncomfortable with fame, even though the two had some success together.

Perhaps the most interesting items in this set are the instrumentals. Flanagan turned Victor Herbert's operetta aria "My Hero" into an unlikely instrumental success. His own riff tune "Swing to 45" is a vehicle for excellent solos, presumably by trumpeter Butterfield and tenor sax man Al Klink. (The title "Swing to 45" is likely a nod to Victor's new 45-rpm format. This transfer comes from a 78, then the standard in radio studios.)

All in all, it's a most pleasing program, in excellent, vivid sound. The originals were remastered from the gigantic Internet Archive collection. The download includes many articles and reviews.

Ralph Flanagan and his band have appeared many times on my other blog.

The "swing to 45" - 1950 Billboard ad

Fran Warren Takes Us from 'Temptation' to 'Envy'

Vocalist Fran Warren is a long-time enthusiasm of mine. Her work has appeared several times on these blogs: 20 of her RCA Victor single sides and the Mr. Imperium soundtrack on the main blog, and, on this blog, a Camden EP and her first record, with Charlie Barnet's band.

Little recognized today, her work is worth saving and celebrating. Warren's prime was her 1948-51 tenure with Victor, which plugged her work heavily. She was often depicted in trade ads and RCA promoted her directly to disc jockeys in other ways.

One such promotion is today's disc - "From 'Temptation' to 'Envy,'" which the label sent to radio stations in fall 1949. The idea was the DJs would play the five-minute promo on the air followed by the record it plugged, in this case Fran's new disc, "Envy."

In this sense, it's very similar to the 1950 promo for and by Mindy Carson that recently appeared here. Warren was not as polished a presenter as Carson, but her disc was nonetheless very well done.

"From 'Temptation' to 'Envy'" is an interesting audio tour through the use of the beguine rhythm in popular music. Fran starts by demonstrating Bing's 1933 hit "Temptation," and continues through Cole Porter's "Night and Day" and "Begin the Beguine," Ernesto Lecuona's "Andalucia" (a hit in America as "The Breeze and I"), and Kurt Weill's "Speak Low."

The payoff is a lead-in to Fran's new record, the beguine "Envy," conveniently on the other side of the promo disc. It's a characteristic Warren record, with complete involvement allied to a lovely vocal quality. The good anonymous backing is by a band and what sound like a Wurlitzer organ.

I've also included the flip side of the commercial disc of "Envy," a good song called "You're in Love with Someone." Both items are also included in my collection of Warren's RCA recordings, although I note that my commentary mistakenly called "Envy" a rhumba rather than a beguine. Fran has now put me right.

The promo record was sourced from Internet Archive.

Joe Mooney Obscurities

Joe Mooney at a recording session

Joe Mooney is one of those musicians who inspires passionate devotion among the few while remaining unknown to the many. He was an accomplished accordionist and organist, while also being a stylish vocalist. 

I featured Mooney on my other blog several years ago, presenting 15 of the 18 sides he made for Decca in the late 1940s. Today I add one more Decca to the pile, with five other obscurities on other labels.

The Decca, "Stars in My Eyes," is from July 1947, and as with all the recordings from this period features the Joe Mooney Quartet - Mooney (accordion), Andy Fitzgerald (clarinet), Jack Hotop (guitar) and Gate Frega (bass).

The next single was recorded for the small Carousel label in 1951, and features Mooney's vocals and organ on "Crazy She Calls Me" and "Long Ago Last Night." Also on the date are guitarist Bucky Pizzarelli and bassist Bob Carter.

The next year, Eddie Sauter and Bill Finegan brought in Mooney for one of the several vocals he recorded with the Sauter-Finegan Band. This one is a fine reading of "Hit the Road to Dreamland."

Guitarist Johnny Smith had Mooney on organ for a 1953 Roost date, producing "Ramona" and "Terry's Theme" from Limelight. Also on the session were bassist Eddie Safranski and drummer Don Lamond.

These singles all were remastered from lossless originals on Internet Archive. The sound is very good.

Fred and Ginger's Commercial Recordings for 'Top Hat'

I thought I might follow up my recent post of the Carefree commercial recordings with the singles from Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers' most famous film, 1935's Top Hat. 

As with Carefree, Fred and Ginger's records were done for two different companies, Brunswick (Fred) and Decca (Ginger). And as before, Astaire recorded more songs than Rogers - five to four.

Fred was, of course, a far more accomplished singer than Ginger, who could barely carry a tune. I will say that she seems more at ease here than she did three years later, at the Carefree sessions. Even so, her discs can be considered more souvenirs than masterworks of recording.

But who wouldn't want to have a chance to sing these glorious Irving Berlin tunes, written for the film. Both Astaire and Rogers have a go at the famous "Cheek to Cheek" and "The Piccolino," a novelty number that despite being set in Italy has a Latin beat. Ginger liberally rewrites the melodic line of "Cheek to Cheek."

There also are separate recordings of "No Strings," which in the film marks the nadir of the two's relationship. Both also do "Isn't This a Lovely Day," which accompanies their reconciliation. It's one of Berlin's best songs and Astaire's best vocals - also a good effort by Rogers.

The only song recorded by Fred but not by Ginger was, logically, "Top Hat," another iconic Astaire number. Both this number and "No Strings" include the sound of his remarkably rhythmic dancing.

For "Isn't This a Lovely Day" and "Top Hat" Fred is accompanied by Johnny Green, who in his mid-20s was already a well-known songwriter and a popular bandleader who backed Astaire both on records and the radio.

"Isn't This a Lovely Day?"

Astaire's other songs were conducted by Leo Reisman, who made a great many records in the 1920s and 30s. (FYI - the flip side of Astaire's "The Piccolino" is a Reisman instrumental, not from the film and not included here.)

Rogers' backings were by Decca bandleader Victor Young, who would soon relocate to Hollywood and find greater fame in the movies.

According to the Discography of American Historical Recordings, the Rogers 78s were issued only in England. I had to work from lossy originals for her recordings of "Isn't This a Lovely Day" and "No Strings." All other items were cleaned up from lossless originals found on Internet Archive. The sound is in general quite good.

The download includes many posters, lobby cards and stills from the film. 

The great Top Hat ensemble - Edward Everett Horton, Helen Broderick, Eric Blore, Ginger and Fred, Erik Rhodes

Speed Riggs Proclaims 'Sold to American!'

Cigarette ads have been banned on US television and radio for 50 years, but way back when, tobacco companies were among the most active sponsors of the shows Americans watched and listened to every night.

The American Tobacco Co., makers of Lucky Strike cigarettes, were particularly busy on the radio, notably sponsoring Your Hit Parade, which ran on radio and then television from 1935-59. Luckies used a variety of ad techniques during this time - in print, it sponsored a series of paintings by such American Scene artists as Thomas Hart Benton and Doris Lee, all depicting tobacco growing and auctioning. It used celebrity advertising, as did many other tobacco companies. And it spawned a variety of catchphrases - "LS/MFT - Lucky Strike Means Fine Tobacco," "Reach for a Lucky instead of a sweet," and "It's Toasted." But perhaps the most famous of them all was one that few people could imitate - the spiel of tobacco auctioneer L.A. "Speed" Riggs and his incomprehensible, fast-paced recitation of the bids before ending with the sing-song, "Sold to American!"

L.A. "Speed" Riggs

Riggs' act is hard to describe, so perhaps it is best to hear it, and today's post provides the opportunity to do so. It's a transfer of a promotional transcription that Lucky Strike put out circa 1938, in which Riggs demonstrates and explains his craft to announcer Basil Ruysdael. This would have been soon after American patriarch George Washington Hill brought Riggs on board to be a spokesperson. The auctioneer quickly became famous for his vocal acrobatics, and promoted the brand for several decades.

Luckies also used a number of other tobacco auctioneers on its programs, all distinctive, but they were a letdown after Riggs. The idea was to have each auctioneer provide testimony to the quality of Lucky Strike. "Why, year after year I've seen Luckies buy the finest, the mildest, the most flavorful tobacco," they would tell the listeners, adding, "I've smoked 'em myself for [10 - 15 - 150] years." The commercial would inevitably add (as does Basil Ruysdael), "With men who know tobacco best, it's Luckies two to one!"

On one memorable Jack Benny radio show, the auctioneer averred that he had "smoked 'em myself for nigh onto 15 years!" The Benny cast was astonished by the antique phraseology straight out of North Carolina tobacco country, and it became a running joke.

This transcription is cleaned up from Internet Archive.

1938 Lucky Strike ad