Bing Bops with Patty and Peg

I have no idea how Bing Crosby felt about bebop. But given his roots, one can only assume he viewed the jazz style as noisy, foolish and faddish. A veteran of Paul Whiteman's band in the '20s and the sweet vocal romanticism of the '30s, Crosby preferred his jazz straightforward and laid back. Though he certainly became more jazz-minded by the '40s, his hip recordings during the decade were more likely a reflection of his ties to Decca and his exposure to the label's major jazz artists than specific personal choices.

One senses that Crosby was always a pop singer at heart and knew where his bread was buttered. You also sense that deep down he viewed jazz singing as necessary slumming. Smooth but edge-less, most of Crosby's recordings now sound hopelessly bland and dated. Creating large volumes of music that purposefully avoid making waves or taking risks will do that to your long-term legacy.

Throughout his career, Crosby was an eager novelty crooner, happily embracing all kinds of gimmicky songs bearing  humorous twists and jokey lyrics—particularly if the material cast him as "jes folks." In some ways he had little choice, since there were only two types of songs then—straight renditions of American Songbook fare and cornball. He also knew that the more barbershop he seemed, the more likable he was and the more records he would sell. Which is certainly no crime. But to insist that his recordings are essential listening today would be stretching it in all honesty.

As far as I can tell, Crosby in the novelty category ventured into bop just once, recording Bebop Spoken Here twice in April 1949—once with with Patty Andrews and again with Peggy Lee. It's a goofy song but in both cases, Crosby doesn't seem to be in the spirit. And there's nothing like bebop to separate the at-ease from the uptight.

The Andrews' date occurred on April 14 for Decca with Victor Schoen and his Orchestra. The second was recorded during a live broadcast for Philco on April 27 with John Scott Trotter and his Orchestra. One assumes the latter was done on the radio in the wake of some moderate success for the first.

The initial version captures Andrews at her minxy best, scatting in cartoonish bop-ese. The second shows off Lee doing the same—but with a cooler and more sultry intonation. In both cases, Crosby executes smoothly but plays the surprised foil, as if embarrassed by the whole silly affair. It's impossible to know whether his superior and detached tone was scripted by cautious handlers or Crosby adapted that position himself to hedge any negative reaction from his core mainstream audience. To give Crosby the benefit of the doubt, one has to figure that Tony Bennett today would probably toss off a similar air if asked to rap a duet. Or maybe not.

Of course, the very fact that Bing Crosby was singing a bop novelty song in April '49 was a sure sign that the bop craze had crested. And in fact it had. Though bop would remain a staple of jazz for decades, new jazz styles were forming thanks to Miles Davis, Lennie Tristano, Lee Konitz, Gerry Mulligan and Clifford Brown. At least Crosby tried. 

JazzWax tracks: Both of Bing  Crosby's versions of Bebop Spoke Here can be found at iTunes or at Amazon here and here.

Comments

[Jery Rowan]

I got to know Bing when I played in a Seattle band with his younger cousin, George Palmerton, in the ‘60s. Bing would come back to the Pacific Northwest at regular intervals to visit numerous relatives who lived in the area. During those visits he showed a genuine interest in jazz, hanging out at after-hour jams, where bop was a musical mainstay.

One must also remember his younger brother, Bob, was leader of the ‘Bob Cats’, a series of hard swinging Dixieland bands in the ‘40s, ‘50’s and ‘60s. These bands featured such notables as Yank Lawson, Billy Butterfield, Muggsy Spanier, Matty Matlock and Jack Sperling.

So, while I don’t think anyone would mistake Bing for a jazzer or a bopper, he did seem to have a real appreciation for those particular art forms, but probably never pursued them for financial reasons. At least, that’s my take.

[Bill Kirchner]

To add to Jery Rowan's enlightening comments, I suggest that you listen to Bing's 1928 recording of "From Monday On" (with Paul Whiteman's Rhythm Boys) or the 1932 "St. Louis Blues" (with the Ellington band) before you come to sweeping conclusions about Crosby's jazz singing. He was a bouyant jazz (including scat) singer when he wanted to be. And his admiration of Louis Armstrong was boundless.

As for this statement of yours: "And there's nothing like bebop to separate the at-ease from the uptight." Armstrong was outspokenly opposed to bebop, but no one would ever accuse him of being "uptight". Like every other jazz style, bebop is a stylistic preference--no more, no less.

[Ed Leimbacher]

Gary Giddins and Mosaic Records folk certainly don't agree with you, Marc. Bing was just whatever and whoever he chose to be, from New Orleans to Hawaii, Mexico to Ireland, Hollywood to some English Cathedral... and the albums he recorded with Armstrong, Clooney, Bob Scobey, and others in the Fifties (not to mention the 78s with various hot players from Whiteman's band and the Boswells and others I'm forgetting) all get pretty damn close to Jazz. What could be better than Bing and Satch goofing in High Society? Now you really has Jazz.

[TE]

This may be the worst, laziest, least informed caricature of a true jazz artist that I've ever had the displeasure of reading. Pops, Bix, Mildred Bailey and Eddie Lang would testify to Bing's jazz interests easily, as would listening to his Mosaic box, or reading the Giddins bio. I must say that the shortcuts you took regarding Crosby are shocking. "Jazz slumming": really?!!! At the very least, no Bing, no Sinatra, never mind Tony Bennett. Open up your mind and ears: Crosby deserves better.

[Dominic]

Thanks, TE. Myers' post is profoundly uninformed and bordering on the ridiculous.

The Mosaic set is indeed a perfect rejoinder to his scribblings.

[David]

The "superior and detached tone" was a characteristic of all of Bing's performances and well as his on screen persona (although the man himself was apparently a more complex personality.) Bixophiles know that an appreciation of Bing comes from historical context: If you've been listening to the other singers on those anthologies, Bing's voice is like a balm.

[Bill Kirchner]

It was for good reason that Artie Shaw called Crosby "the first hip white man in America."

[John P. Cooper]

Yeah - you're way off in your characterizations.

[John P. Cooper]

Here's some "jokey lyrics" from the yellow Decca LP cover you used as an illustration. This is a lovely song.

Katrina
From "The Adventures of Ichabod and Mr. Toad"
Composed by Don Raye and Gene de Paul

Once you have met that little coquette
Katrina
You won't forget
Katrina
But nobody yet has ever upset
Katrina
That cute coquette Katrina

You can do more with Margaret or Helena
Or Ann or Angelina
But Katrina will kiss and run
To her a romance is fun
With always another one to start

And yet when you've met that little coquette
Katrina
You've lost your heart