Billy Eckstine and Vocal Groups

Reprinted from http://jazzwax.com

Billy Eckstine was a sex symbol in the late 1940s and early 1950s. The vocalist's movie-star looks and seductive baritone earned him a prominent place in magazines and jukeboxes, leaving black and white girls with a terrible crush on him. All were smitten by the tenderness and understanding in Eckstine's deep, butterscotch voice. [Photo above by Martha Holmes]

Today, Eckstine and the crucial role he played in paving the way for jazz and R&B balladeers of the 1950s and beyond has been largely forgotten. Those who do remember Eckstine tend to view him as a romantic relic whose voice was dated even when he was popular. The evaporation of Eckstine's status is partly a result of bad timing, beginning in the '40s. He led one of the earliest and most daring bebop orchestras between 1942 and 1944—smack in the middle of the first recording ban by the American Federation of Musicians. As a result, no recordings of the band exist. His superb 1945 recordings for Deluxe with Dizzy Gillespie, Fats Navarro, Dexter Gordon, Gene Ammons, Sonny Stitt, Budd Johnson, Leo Parker and others gives us a taste.

By 1947, Eckstine, with his operatic delivery, was a vocal sensation and a solo act. That year, he signed with MGM, just as pop vocalists were catching on among young adults weary of big band music and nights out. MGM, at the time, caught the demographic shift along with Capitol and Columbia. The downside is that Eckstine was paired with a wide range of sugary pop arrangers, including Hugo Winterhalter, Buddy Baker, Jack Miller, Russ Case, Lionel Newman and Lou Bring. But he also wound up on MGM sessions in the early 1950s with young arrangers on their way up, including Pete Rugolo, Nelson Riddle and Bobby Tucker.

In 1955, with the launch of the 12-inch LP, Eckstine moved to Mercury, where he found more of the same—saccharine charts on songs that crawled along at a snail's pace. To milk Eckstine's market, the label forced the singer to stand still stylistically as Frank Sinatra, Nat King Cole, Al Hibbler and a range of R&B balladeers such as Clyde McPhatter chewed into his turf with a more contemporary, hip sound. Today, jazz and pop fans of the era rarely listen to Eckstine, and many view him as a singer whose treatments are heavy and thick, often framed by predictable orchestrations. [Photo above of Eckstine and June, his wife at the time, in 1950, by Martha Holmes]

But in re-listening to Eckstine's 1940s and '50s output for Deluxe, National, MGM and Mercury yesterday, several revelations emerged. For one, Eckstine was the first black pop vocalist to crossover and is the father of romantic male soul, blazing a trail for balladeers such as Brook Benton, Barry White, Luther Vandross, Teddy Pendergrass and many others. [Photo above of Billy Eckstine and Frank Sinatra in 1949 by Martha Holmes]

For another, Eckstine had far greater control and power at the very bottom of his vocal range than most people realize. Not only could he drop down and hit notes right on the nose, his voice could move around in that zone and put an interesting spin on melodies with dissonant notes. [Photo above of Billy Eckstine at the Paramount Theater in New York]

And lastly, as I listened, I found that his lesser-known recordings with vocal groups during this period turned out to be the biggest surprise. When teamed with pop harmony groups like the Quintones, the Pied Pipers and the Lee Gordon Singers, Eckstine's earnest baritone was offset by a lightness that made for a smart combination. [Above, Billy Eckstine in 1952]

Let me offer the following tracks as evidence...

Here's Fool That I Am with Hugo Winterhalter and the Quartones in 1947...

Here's Baby Won't You Say You Love Me with the Quintones and the Russ Case Orchestra in 1949...

Here's Lost in a Dream from the same session...

Here's I've Got My Mind on You from the same session...

Here's Coquette with the Lee Gordon Singers and Nelson Riddle in 1952...

Here's Send My Baby Back to me with the Lee Gordon Singers with Nelson Riddle in 1953 (shades of Riddle's Capitol charts)...

Here's I Laugh to Keep From Crying with the Textor Singers and Nelson Riddle in 1953. Be sure to dig Riddle's flute run-down at the end...

Here's It Can't Be Wrong with the Herman McCoy Singers and Nelson Riddle arranging in 1953. Yep, the theme from Now, Voyager (1942), which starred Bette Davis, Paul Henreid and Claude Rains..

Now that we've established that Billy Eckstine gelled well with vocal groups, here are three video clips that fully explain why he generated so much heat with female fans...

Here's Prisoner of Love in the mid-1940s...

Here's Rhythm in a Riff from the same film...

And here's September Song in the mid-1950s...

Used with permission by Marc Myers