New Releases: Bing Crosby's Good and Rare, Volume 3

Back in 2009, the British reissue label Sepia Records released the first volume in the Good & Rare series of Bing Crosby compilations, with a second volume following a year later. Now, almost a decade later, we have the third installment in the series, and as is the case with the other two, this new issue is highly recommended for any serious Crosby fan. Just like the rest of Sepia releases, this CD is up to the European company's high production and packaging quality standards, and the compilation is supervised by International Club Crosby members and Crosby specialists and collectors John Newton, David Currington, Malcolm Macfarlane, and Wig Wiggins. Bearing in mind the age and sources of some of the material, the sound is good overall—in many instances it is excellent—and the occasional imperfections never get in the way of our listening pleasure. Even though the tracks are arranged in strict chronological order, the CD is well programmed, and each cut flows into the next with great ease.

Crosby (center) with the Rhythm Boys

As the title of the collection implies, the material included here is of undeniable rarity, most of the tracks being available on CD for the first time. The earliest cuts take us back to the late 1920s, when Crosby was a featured vocalist with the Paul Whiteman orchestra, as well as a member of Whiteman's Rhythm Boys, a trio made out of Crosby, Harry Barris, and Al Rinker. Two of the songs, "Everything's Agreed Upon" (a long-forgotten composition by Barris that does not seem to have been cut by anybody else since) and "A Bench in the Park," come from an NBC radio show starring the trio, and they clearly prove that Crosby's voice already stood out from the rest at a time when the crooner was on the verge of stardom. Other interesting recordings from this early period of Crosby's career are "Poor Little G-String," an alternate take of "Ol' Man River" with Whiteman, and "Song of the Dawn," which John Boles, and not Bing, sang in the Whiteman extravaganza, The King of Jazz. The CD is full of alternate takes of songs originally released by Decca ("After Sundown," "Let Me Call You Sweetheart," "Red Sails in the Sunset") which are often subtly different from the issued versions and show that discarded takes by Crosby are usually just as good as the versions chosen for release. The 1934 film recording of "It's Easy to Remember" included here differs greatly from the issued version, and a truncated 1944 attempt at Cole Porter's "Night and Day" is interesting because we actually get a chance to witness Crosby's reaction to his rather bouncy performance of the classic Porter ballad.

Arranger Buddy Bregman

But, in my opinion, there are two sets of tracks here that are absolutely worth the price of admission. First, there's a group of demos recorded by Bing in 1937-40 with minimal instrumental accompaniment (just John Scott Trotter on piano and Perry Botkin on guitar), including "The Moon Got in My Eyes," "Where Is Central Park?," "Beware (I'm Beginning to Care)," "East Side of Heaven," "Sing a Song of Sunbeams," "When the Moon Comes over Madison Square," and two versions of "Laugh and Call It Love." These are absolutely delightful stripped-down readings of these songs that will appeal to listeners who enjoy listening to Bing in a small-group setting. And then there are three alternate takes from Crosby's 1956 sessions with Buddy Bregman that yielded the album Bing Sings Whilst Bregman Swings, an entry in Bing's discography that has caused quite a division and heated debates among Crosby aficionados over the years. Although the liner notes say that these alternate takes previously "popped up on an Australian LP," they were not included in the Verve reissue of the Crosby-Bregman collaboration, so they make their first appearance on CD here. The songs are "The Blue Room," "Cheek to Cheek," and "Mountain Greenery," and again, they are only marginally different from the versions included in the original album, but they are extremely interesting for those of us who appreciate Crosby's recordings with Bregman.

John Scott Trotter and Bing Crosby

All in all, this CD will be of greater interest to the serious Crosby collector than to the casual fan, but most of the material offered here is notable not only for its rarity, but also for its consistently high musical quality. The liner notes by Mr. Macfarlane are, as always, informative, knowledgeable, and well written, and everyone involved in the production of this third volume in Sepia's Good and Rare series deserves the gratitude of all Crosby fans. Hopefully we will not have to wait another nine or ten years to see a further installment in this very appealing series.

Where to Find This Album

This CD is available from all major internet retailers and directly from the Sepia Records website here. Also, Crosby fans in the United States may obtain it by contacting Mr. Wig Wiggins via e-mail (wigbing2012 [at] gmail [dot] com) or via regular mail (5608 North 34th Street, Arlington, VA 22207).

Interview with Singer Bobby Rydell: "I grew up listening to the music of the big bands, and this music was in my blood from my childhood"

Our first post of 2016 is an interview we recently did with singer Bobby Rydell, in which he discusses his life and career, as well as two excellent early 1960s albums he made for the Cameo / Parkway label, mostly paying tribute to the music of the pre-rock era, which was more of an influence on his own style than one may think.

In the late 1950s and early '60s, between the first outburst of rock'n'roll and the arrival of the so-called British Invasion, the airwaves were suddenly filled with a gentler, sweeter kind of pop music, epitomized by teen idols such as Frankie Avalon, Ricky Nelson, and Fabian. One of the most popular among them was Philadelphia-born Bobby Rydell, whose memorable recordings of hits like "Kissin' Time," "Wild One," and "Swingin' School," among several others, turned him into a national sensation starting in 1959. After achieving great success on records and through appearances on top-rated television shows, Rydell made his movie debut in the now classic musical Bye Bye Birdie, alongside Ann-Margret and Dick Van Dyke, a role that did a great deal to further his career. Rydell has announced that in 2016 he will be publishing his autobiography and a pictorial of his career, and anyone interested in more information about this forthcoming book should check his website.

Rydell with Domenico Modugno

Despite the fact that, just like Bobby Darin, Rydell started out as a teen idol, he was steeped in big band music and pre-rock pop crooners (one of his hits was a cover of Italian crooner Domenico Modugno's "Volare," also cut by Dean Martin), and to this day his live act includes many tunes out of the Great American Songbook. In fact, in the 1960s he cut a few albums celebrating these influences, namely Bobby Salutes the Great Ones (1961), Rydell at the Copa (1961), and Bobby Rydell and the Bernie Lowe Orchestra Recreate the Big Band Days (1962). Back in October, these three LPs, along with a 1961 collaboration with label mate Chubby Checker, were reissued on a two-CD set by the British label Jasmine Records. As soon as we heard about this release, we got in touch with Mr. Rydell, through his assistant, Ms. Linda Hoffman, and he graciously agreed to an interview with The Vintage Bandstand to discuss his career in general and these albums in particular. We now present the full interview here.

Anton Garcia-Fernandez (for The Vintage Bandstand): You were born in Philadelphia. Please tell us a little bit about your childhood there. What kinds of music did you listen to? Who were your earliest musical influences?

Bobby Rydell: I grew up listening the music of the big bands.  My father used to take me to a theatre in Philadelphia that often showcased the legends of this era and I fell in love with the music at about age seven.  As a child I saw the incredible Gene Krupa live and it stayed with me until this day.  I remember telling my dad "That's what I want to be—a drummer."  Dad was responsible for everything I became.  He bought me my first set of drums and gave me drum lessons.  If the singing thing hadn't worked out, that's what I'd be doing today. 

TVB: Around 1950, you first appeared on the TV show Teen Club, which was hosted by legendary bandleader Paul Whiteman, and you stayed on that show for about three years. What do you remember about that show? Did you get to have much interaction with Mr. Whiteman?

Mr. Rydell: I was sort of the "mascot" on the Whiteman show. I was about eight years old when I won a talent contest and became a regular on the program.  I won a TV set (the first on our block!) in the contest for the show.  I don't remember a time that I wasn't performing.  Yes, Mr. Whiteman was very involved with the show—he was the person who first changed my name from Bobby Ridarelli to Bobby Rydell. He said no one would remember Ridarelli!

TVB: In the late 1950s, you signed a contract with the label Cameo / Parkway which led to big hits like "Kissin' Time," "Swingin' School," and "Wild One," among others, and which turned you into a very popular teen idol. How did that contract come about?

Mr. Rydell: I used to cut school to hang out at the studios (which were a two-by-four space, nothing major like you'd imagine).  I knew Bernie Lowe (one of the founders of the label) from the Whiteman show - he was a piano player on the show.  It wasn't until I met Frankie Day (my first manager) by chance at a show I was playing in one of my first bands - that I got an "audition" with the label - and the rest kind of just took off. 

TVB: On one of your albums for that label you were teamed up with another big star of the era, Chubby Checker. What do you remember about the sessions that produced that collaboration between the two of you?

Mr. Rydell: Being that we were both under contract with the same record label, they thought it would be a novel idea to have the both of us do a "duets" album to be released just before the holidays and toss in a couple of holiday songs.  One of those tunes, "Jingle Bell Rock," is really popular to this day on the radio stations during the holidays.  Chubby and I knew one another from the South Philadelphia area where we were both born and raised, and of course through the label and we had toured together in Australia a few times.  It was a natural type of recording session and a brilliant move by the label.  I think it became one of the top-selling albums for the label.  We still see one another on the road to this day.  We both still live in the same area of suburban Philadelphia. 

TVB: One of your most remarkable albums is Bobby Rydell Salutes the Great Ones, which includes rocking versions of standards such as "That Old Black Magic," "Wrap Your Troubles in Dreams," and "Nice Work If You Can Get It." What was the concept behind this LP and how did it come about? Did you select the songs? And if so, how did you select the songs?

Mr. Rydell: My manager and I selected the songs, submitted them to Cameo and they loved the idea.  This music was in my blood from my childhood and felt very natural that I record it - we did it with a touch of the contemporary and it worked.  When I started performing on shows like Red Skelton, Jack Benny, Perry Como  - this was the type of music they wanted me to perform on their shows - not the "Swingin' School," etc. 

TVB: In 1961 you first performed at the Copacabana, in New York, and the album Rydell at the Copa features a recording of your nightclub set there. How did the contract at the Copa come about? Your repertoire seems to be more adult-oriented. Did you get to choose your set lists for your engagement at the Copa?

Mr. Rydell: My manager, Frank Day, was the brains behind the Copa job.  He felt I was "ready" to graduate from the rock and roll shows onto the night club circuit.  He hired a stage coach for me, taught me dance steps, stage posture - even had a script written for the show with jokes, song medleys - it was a smash.  I got rave reviews by the tough New York critics calling the show a "powder keg of talent."  It was a thrill beyond belief for me. At age 19 I went down in history as the youngest performer ever to headline the famed Copa.

TVB: One can't help but notice that both Salutes the Great Ones and At the Copa feature several songs associated with Al Jolson ("My Mammy," "April Showers," "There's a Rainbow 'Round My Shoulder"). Was Jolson one of your musical influences? 

Mr. Rydell: No, Jolson wasn't really an influence.  

Rydell and Ann-Margret

TVB: One of your most memorable movie roles came in the 1963 film musical, Bye, Bye Birdie. How did you get involved in this movie? Are there any memories of co-stars Ann-Margret and Dick Van Dyke that you would like to share?

Mr. Rydell: Ann and I are friends to this day.  She calls and checks in often.  When she does she asks if "Hugo" is there.  We were 2 kids back then.  My original role of Hugo did not call for any singing (in the stage version) and only a few lines.  My audition with Ann was magnetic and the producers decided to expand Hugo's role. They thought we were magic together and wanted to play that up to the younger audience.  Every day we came to the set my role got bigger and bigger.

TVB: Finally, after all these years, you are still performing. For instance, you toured Australia last year. That shows that you must really enjoy music. Do you still listen to much music these days? And if so, what kinds of music and artists do you like listening to?

Mr. Rydell: My tour schedule today is full. [You can check it out here.]  I work frequently in a show called The Golden Boys, which is a production by Dick Fox, my present manager.  We have been performing this production  to sellout audiences for the past 30 years.  "The Golden Boys" are (officially) myself, Frankie Avalon, and Fabian.  When this first started we joked it would be good for about 6 months—never dreamt that people would still be buying tickets 30 years later.  The show features old film footage of our teen idol days, lots of production numbers with the three of us together, we individually do our separate shows, then come back together for a tribute to our fellow performers who have passed on.  There's even a dance contest.  I also do my solo show in Las Vegas and around the country, which is a mix of my oldies and lots of my favorite "standards" big band style.  Some of my shows (like one I'm doing at the Golden Nugget in Atlantic City) are with eighteen-piece orchestras and are songs from the American Songbook.

In 2012 I really thought it was over, though. I spent most of that year in and out of hospitals with tubes down my throat.  Never thought I'd sing again.  I needed a double organ transplant (kidney & liver).  Through skilled surgeons at Jefferson University Hospital in Philadelphia and my organ donor and the family who lost her, I am here today.  I'm still singing and telling my audiences the importance of becoming an organ donor.  They are able to come to the show because of one unselfish person. My donor's name was Julia, and she was in her twenties.

Of the artists today I'm especially fond of Diana Krall and Tower of Power.

Vaughn De Leath, The Original Radio Girl of the 1920s

The other day I was looking through my record collection and found a compilation of Vaughn De Leath's best recordings from the second half of the 1920s, and that immediately seemed like the perfect excuse to take a look at the career of a remarkable singer who billed herself as "The Original Radio Girl" and who was one of the true radio (and television) pioneers. Anyone who enjoys the upbeat music of the so-called Roaring Twenties should give her very interesting recorded output a try.

While she may not have actually been the first singer to perform live over the airwaves, Vaughn De Leath most certainly was one of the first female vocalists to build up a following and a career through the new medium of radio starting in the early 1920s. In fact, though some sources differ as to the date of her first broadcast, in January 1920 she sang during an experimental program originating from the studio of inventor Lee DeForest in New York City, and she was so successful that just three years later, the magazine The Wireless Age ran an article about her that began as follows:

Thus far no one has come forward to dispute Vaughn De Leath's claim of being "the original radio girl." Probably no one will, for the letters she has from her invisible audience are dated months before radio entertainment became everybody's job. Her first radio appearance was in the early days of 1920, in the World Tower Station, New York City. Even then she sensed radio's impending popularity, and she stoutly defended the latest of arts and sciences against those who contended it would not last. (February 1923, page 27).

Though it may be a little bit of an exaggeration to call her a visionary, she definitely was a true pioneer, and in more ways than one, since several years after her first radio appearance, she was also featured in one of the earliest experimental television broadcasts. A native of Illinois, she had been born Leonore Vonderlieth on September 26, 1896, and her stage name was a modification of her German last name. One of the reasons why De Leath (the name is variously spelled "de Leath," "DeLeath," and "deLeath" depending on the sources) was so popular in the early days of radio is that her voice was perfectly suited to the delicate equipment in use at the time. She developed an attractive crooning style that pleased audiences everywhere and that also translated very well to phonograph records, both in the acoustic and electric eras. Her flair for uptempo numbers must have been a primary influence on contemporary female vocalists such as Annette Hanshaw and Ruth Etting. She occasionally recorded duets with other popular singers of the day, like Frank Harris, Franklyn Baur, and Ed Smalle, and was an accomplished songwriter who often played piano and ukulele on her own records and radio broadcasts.

DeLeath made a couple of fine records with popular bandleader Paul Whiteman

Her career as a recording artist began in 1920, several years before the advent of electrical recordings, with a cylinder she cut for the Edison company, and then she spent the 1920s and part of the 1930s making dozens of records for both major and small labels, in addition to her appearances on highly popular radio shows such as the Firestone Radio Hour and the Columbia Phonograph Hour. De Leath's jazz-inflected singing style was often accompanied by studio bands that included fine jazz musicians like Red Nichols, Eddie Lang, and Dick McDonough, among others, and she was the featured vocalist with the Paul Whiteman Orchestra on at least two sides: "The Man I Love" and "Button Up Your Overcoat." In between her radio and recording activities, De Leath occasionally found time to appear on the Broadway stage, starring in the 1923 production of David Belasco and Tom Cushing's Laugh, Clown, Laugh. One of her biggest hits of the 1920s was the Hawaiian-styled song "Ukulele Lady," written by Richard Whiting and Gus Kahn, and following the success of this disc, she sang on a record of "Ukelele Lessons" released by Victor in 1925.

De Leath's recording activities slowed down dramatically toward the beginning of the 1930s, perhaps because her singing style was becoming somewhat dated, and so she concentrated on any appearances she could secure on local radio, as well as on other business interests, such as running a radio station and even a night club. By the time of her death on May 28, 1943, she was living in Buffalo, New York, had made almost no new records in over a decade, and had become merely a memento of an earlier era. As a matter of fact, Vaughn De Leath is hardly remembered at all today, and there are not many CDs available that feature her old recordings. One of the best is the European import Vaughn De Leath: The First Lady of Radio (Delta Leisure Group, 2012), which includes 24 tracks cut between 1925 and 1929. The sound is good considering the age of the recordings, and besides "Ukelele Lady," we find De Leath's versions of standards such as the Nick Lucas-associated "Looking at the World (Through Rose-Colored Glasses)," "Sometimes I'm Happy," "I Can't Give You Anything But Love," "I Must Have That Man," and "I Wanna Be Loved by You" (she even scats briefly on this last one). The two sides with Whiteman are also thankfully here, as is her fine rendition of Jerome Kern and Oscar Hammerstein's Show Boat classic "Can't Help Lovin' Dat Man." Unfortunately, the compilers did not see fit to include De Leath's very popular reading of "Are You Lonesome Tonight?" (yes, the same song that Elvis Presley made into a big hit in 1960) but even so, the CD makes for a very interesting trip back in time and is an excellent introduction to De Leath's exciting, peppy singing style that, as much as anything else, embodies the spirit of the Jazz Age.

Clipping from The Wireless Age, February 1923

Vintage Records Review Desk 7: Duke Ellington Octet, Martha Tilton, Bing Crosby 1930s Radio Recordings

For this new installment in the series, we take a close look at three European imports that have landed on our Review Desk, all of them extremely recommendable and taken from radio sources. We begin with one of the few live recordings of Duke Ellington in an octet setting that are currently available. And then we spotlight two vocal releases: a fine compilation of Martha Tilton live broadcasts with the Benny Goodman orchestra, and a recently issued collection of rare Bing Crosby broadcasts from the Kraft Music Hall in the mid 1930s.

While he often led sessions with small groups, particularly in the early years of his career, unfortunately not too many recordings of Duke Ellington in an octet setting have survived. The Duke Ellington Octet at the Rainbow Grille (Gambit Records, 2006) presents one of them, a very interesting date at New York' Rainbow Grille from August 17, 1967, preserved for posterity due to the fact that it was broadcast by the CBS radio network. The first five tunes on this album are apparently rehearsals that the sound engineer caught on tape while adjusting the balances in preparation for the broadcast. The first of these finds the Duke at the piano, wistfully playing a medley of two of his lesser-known compositions, "Heaven" and "Le Sucrier Velours," and in the background we can hear people chatting and glasses clinking, which suggests that nobody seems to be paying much attention to the performance. The whole octet begins to warm up next, using for that purpose classic Ellington numbers such as "In a Sentimental Mood," "Azure," and "I'm Beginning to See the Light," as well as a rocking tune called "Rock the Clock."

Then the broadcast proper begins, after an announcer urges the crowd to applaud as the band goes on the air, and the sound improves somewhat. The octet is made up of star soloists from within the Ellington orchestra, namely Cat Anderson on trumpet, Lawrence Brown on trombone, Johnny Hodges on alto, Paul Gonsalves on tenor, and Harry Carney on baritone, supported by a rhythm section that includes the Duke himself on piano, bassist John Lamb, and drummer Steve Little. This reduced lineup called for new arrangements, which in the hands of all these giants sound rich and full of excitement, giving all the horns plenty of chances to shine. The set list features many Ellington and Billy Strayhorn standards, such as "Take the 'A' Train," "Satin Doll," "Sophisticated Lady," "Passion Flower," "Solitude," and "Things Ain't What They Used to Be," as well as Juan Tizol's "Perdido," which is ably performed here by Cat Anderson. Ellington himself, of course, is heavily spotlighted on piano, and his playing, as usual, is never less than superb. This is definitely a very welcome release, with personnel information and well-written liner notes that could, however, be a little more detailed. It appears that several other performances from this Ellington octet engagement exist, and judging by the quality of the music we can hear on this CD, they all deserve the be issued commercially.

It is well known that Benny Goodman disliked to work with vocalists, and he only featured them with his legendary big band because of their selling potential. Thus, when he first played Carnegie Hall in January 1938 (a landmark concert that was to swing what the famous Paul Whiteman appearance at Aeolian Hall about a decade earlier had been to Whiteman's brand of symphonic jazz) he only allowed his female vocalist at the time, Martha Tilton, to sing two songs. Yet the physically and vocally attractive Liltin' Miss Tilton, as she was often billed, was always a crowd pleaser, and the roaring approval of the Carnegie Hall audience to her rendition of "Loch Lomond" prompted Goodman to step up to the microphone and clarify that, even though no encores had been prepared, Tilton would reappear later on in the show to sing another number. The audience's response to that second song, "Bei Mir Bist Du Schoen," was just as noisy proving that the public at large did not share the bespectacled bandleader's contempt for vocalists, who, in fact, would in time end up becoming one of the many reasons for the ultimate demise of the big band business.

Culled from live broadcasts made by the Goodman orchestra between 1937 and 1939, the generous two-CD set Liltin' (Jasmine Records, 2007) showcases Tilton's powerful yet unassuming vocals on 49 tracks that should be of interest to anyone who enjoys her Carnegie Hall performances. The sources of these recordings are broadcasts from the Camel Caravan radio show (1937-39) and airchecks that originated from the Madhattan Room in New York's Hotel Pennsylvania in 1937, all of them with very good sound considering the circumstances in which they were preserved. The quality of the songs varies, since Goodman featured on this broadcasts many throwaway pop hits of the day that have not stood the test of time, but the orchestra always sounds exciting because includes great names such as Harry James, Ziggy Elman, Jess Stacy, Bud Freeman, Hymie Schertzer, and Dave Tough, among many others. Moreover, when Tilton is given the right song (Cole Porter's "My Heart Belongs to Daddy" or Johnny Mercer's "And the Angels Sing," for instance) she always delivers, and the well-oiled sound of the orchestra never fails to get a enthusiastic responses from both the dancers and the listeners in the audience. Tilton would leave the Goodman organization in 1939 to launch a solo career, concentrating on radio work and making some fine records for Capitol, a label that was never sure whether to present her as a balladeer or a novelty performer. Offering several tracks that she never recorded commercially with Goodman and even a couple of excellent duets with Johnny Mercer, this collection serves as a fantastic introduction to the lilting voice of Martha Tilton directly from the bandstand.

And, finally, Kraft Music Hall: Selected Performances 1935-1936 (JSP Records, 2015) is an unexpected but wonderful surprise for all Bing Crosby fans and collectors, which we have just received from the International Club Crosby. Although the medium of radio was of paramount importance in Crosby's meteoric rise as a multimedia star in the 1930s, unfortunately not too many broadcasts from this early period of his career have survived. As the subtitle of this disc ("Lost radio recordings rediscovered and released here for the first time") suggests, this compilation attempts to fill that void by presenting material from early Kraft Music Hall programs that have not been heard since they first aired in 1935 and 1936. At that particular point in time, December of 1935, Crosby's old boss, Paul Whiteman, was still the host of KMH, and the singer was simply a guest on the program. While the show was broadcast from New York, Bing's segments were relayed from Hollywood, as we can hear on the first track of this album, which has Whiteman introducing Crosby, who was not backed by Whiteman's outfit but by the excellent, swinging Jimmy Dorsey orchestra. It appears that it was common practice for Crosby during his guest spots to sing a medley of songs associated with him or taken from one of his then-current movies, as well as a few tunes that he had introduced or helped make popular, such as "On Treasure Island," "Red Sails in the Sunset," "Dinah" (unfortunately sans the Mills Brothers here), and "After You've Gone." As John Newton observes in the liner notes, Bing sings the romantic ballad "I'm Yours," which "fits neither category, but is nevertheless a welcome addition" and would later be beautifully recorded by Dean Martin.

These performances are not interesting merely because of their rarity, but rather because they prove that Crosby was a master interpreter of popular song who was even more exciting, jazzy, and improvisatory when he was singing to a radio audience in front of a microphone and supported by a bandleader of the caliber of Jimmy Dorsey. On the December 26, 1935, broadcast, which includes a rather sleepy version of "I Get a Kick Out of You" by Kay Weber that sounds as though she were not getting any kicks out of singing the song, it becomes clear that Crosby is acquiring more protagonism, since he sings more numbers than on previous programs. In fact, come January 1936, Crosby began to host the KMH himself, quickly turning it into one of the most popular radio shows in the country, with a weekly listenership estimated at dozens of millions. From the first two shows hosted by Crosby we get some fantastic performances of songs like "Eeny-Meeny-Miney-Mo," "I'll See You in My Dreams," "A Little Bit Independent," and "Some of These Days," still backed by Dorsey, who would remain on the show until July 1937. This new release complements JSP's very recommendable 2007 four-CD set, The Vintage Years, which included broadcasts made between 1932 and 1950, featuring some interesting duets with Judy Garland and Jimmy Durante, and will delight Crosby fans for the scarcity of this type of material and also for the fact that it is up to the usual audio restoration standards of the fine British reissue label.