You've Heard This Classic a Million Times, But Not Like This!

The many moods of "Harlem Nocturne", this week's Song of the Week

“Nocturne” © Vantage Studios

The first time I heard “Harlem Nocturne,” it was just a fragment, part of the soundtrack for an advertisement. It was unusually compelling for an ad, but it didn’t occur to me that there was a bigger story. Then, I kept hearing it. It was just sort of there, often in the background — in movie soundtracks and commercials for everything from perfume to cars. It always conjured up a certain feeling. Or feelings: Darkness. Romance. Brooding. Sensuality. Danger. All at the same time.

I didn’t know the name of the song, and it had not occurred to me that there might be other versions of it. But what I had been hearing all this time was actually a cover. It is most likely the version you — and most people — will recognize, even if you can’t name it. People just know they’ve heard it.

As you listen to these versions, what associations do they have for you?

Musicians have been drawn to “Harlem Nocturne” the way moths are drawn to light. I found roughly a hundred versions of it, created by musicians from nearly every genre and walk of life. In the process, I discovered a lot of artists I hadn’t known about. A couple of them led me down long detours, because I just had to hear more of their stuff. That’s how I learned about, for example, Ernestine Anderson.

When delving into the song’s history, it becomes clear that a great composition works in various settings and interpretations. I have not been able to listen to all of the versions I found, but of the many I did play, very few missed outright. A lot of them were really good.

I picked six versions to highlight here. These picks are, of course, subjective, based on how much I like them, but are also based partly on their historical significance. They are wildly different from each other and conjure completely different atmospheres. Share your thoughts in the comments!

Ray Noble Orchestra (1940; Composed by Earle Hagen)

Earle Hagen was a member of this orchestra, which was one of many prominent groups in the Big Band era. He composed this piece for the orchestra, in honor of Duke Ellington and what would later be known as the Harlem Renaissance.

The Harlem Renaissance was a cultural explosion in the Harlem district of New York during the 1920s and 1930s. The Great Migration of Blacks from the Jim Crow South and parallel migrations of many ethnic groups from Europe fueled the Renaissance. Harlem nurtured stars such as Ellington, Fats Waller, and Louis Armstrong, among many.

One of the significant aspects of the Renaissance was that successful Black artists began to gain a wider white audience and mainstream acceptance. White artists, such as the Ray Noble Orchestra, openly idolized the greats like Ellington and were happy to write and play songs that honored that influence.

Progress would not always move in a straight line, and in later decades, there would be times when it shifted into reverse. There would later come times when Blacks and other minorities would see their contributions to art and music erased from the canonical record.

This history is complex and far beyond the scope of a short monograph about one song. The topics of the Harlem Renaissance, and specifically Harlem musical culture, from Big Band to modern hip-hop, have already consumed years of work by whole academic departments. So I will leave it at that.

Here is the original “Harlem Nocturne,” recorded by Ray Noble and his orchestra.

*****

Johnny Otis (1945)

I had heard of Johnny Otis before, as a huge influence on soul, funk, jazz, and R&B music. I always assumed he was Black. In researching the article, I discovered he was Greek!

As a teenager growing up in a largely Black neighborhood, he fell in love with Black culture and became a professional musician (dropping out of high school to pursue the dream). He even changed his name (he was originally Ioannis Alexandres Veliotes).

From his obituary in the Guardian:

“He signed the 13-year-old Esther Phillips as vocalist for his California Rhythm and Blues Caravan touring show in 1949. With Little Esther singing, he scored 10 top 10 R&B hits in 1950.

Otis was responsible for either discovering or producing some of America’s most potent R&B singers. While scouting for King Records in the early 1950s, he encountered Jackie Wilson, Little Willie John, and Hank Ballard at a talent show in Detroit, and they went on to appear in the Caravan.

He produced — and played drums on — Big Mama Thornton’s first recordings, including the R&B hit Hound Dog (1953). He was also initially credited as one of the song’s composers, though when Elvis Presley covered the song in 1956, Jerry Leiber and Mike Stoller succeeded in having his name removed.

Otis also produced all the hits of the R&B star Johnny Ace, who died in a self-inflicted gunshot accident in 1954, the year in which Otis signed Etta James. They co-wrote her first hit, Dance with Me, Henry (1955), which became a bigger hit for Georgia Gibbs. Otis’s Every Beat of My Heart had to wait seven years to become a hit for Gladys Knight in 1961.”

This 1945 recording of “Harlem Nocturne” was his breakthrough.

*****

Ernestine Anderson (1960)

Several writers have penned words for Hagen’s original composition. The first was his bandmate, Dick Rogers. This version uses his original lyrics, with a few modifications.

In general, I don’t find the versions with vocals as compelling as the instrumentals. This is the huge exception. Ernestine Anderson was a member of the incomparable generation of jazz/pop divas that included Etta James, Dinah Washington, Sarah Vaughan, and many more. I had not been familiar with her work until I discovered this, but having now binge-listened to more of her recordings, I can say she belongs on the stage with any of them.

She has a vocal timbre that falls somewhere between Ella Fitzgerald and Dinah Washington, leaning closer to Ella. Like Washington, she has remarkable clarity and diction. Her emotional styling is as good as any of them. Anderson was nominated four times for Grammys, but didn’t win. I think the Grammys missed the boat. But that’s not unusual for them!

The Viscounts (1965)

This was the biggest hit for the Viscounts, an early ’60s band that came along just as jazz and blues were about to get swamped by rock and roll. They actually released two versions of it, six years apart, and both charted. The 1965 release was sort of a last hurrah for this sort of music, at least for a while.

The Viscounts took Earle Hagen’s big-band standard, slowed it down, put the saxophone front and center, added reverb, and ended up with a masterpiece. Rainy nights, dark alleys, femmes fatales, Guy Noir, and all that.

This version of the song was later used in the soundtrack for “Christine,” a movie about a jealous, homicidal 1958 Plymouth Fury (yes, a car, in case you haven’t seen the movie). “Christine” didn’t do well at the box office, but today it is a cult classic, and the soundtrack is a big reason for that.

You’ve probably heard bits of this a million times, and may have wondered what it was. Well, now you know.

*****

Booker T. Ervin (1967)

Booker Ervin died at the age of 39, just as he was establishing himself as one of the premier jazzmen of the time. He grew up playing the trombone, but while serving in the Air Force, he taught himself to play the tenor sax. He became one of the best at it in his short time.

He packed a lot of music into that time. He played regularly with Charlie Mingus while living in New York, starting with a two-year stint in Mingus’ permanent workshop. He lived in Europe for two years, touring extensively throughout the continent, playing and recording with a diverse range of musicians. He became known for his long improvisations, some of which were likened to Coltrane’s work.

Here, he takes things in multiple directions — there are segments reminiscent of the older Big Band sound, and parts that are more moody and introspective. He throws in some swing, overlaid with bits of bebop improvisation.

The brass section gives the whole thing a brighter feel than the Viscounts’ version. Both are evocative of movies, but very different movies: Early in the song, there is a transition that feels like something from a “007” soundtrack.

The two versions were recorded only two years apart, but they feel as though they come from completely different worlds.

*****

Danny Gatton (1993)

Top guitarists called Danny Gatton the Humbler, because none of them could match him in “cutting” contests — where guitarists take turns showing off their best stuff, usually in a small venue with other musicians as the audience. His fear of traveling stopped him from becoming a bigger star, and his other demons came to get him when he was just 49.

Here he is, doing a blues-drenched, almost hallucinatory take on the old classic. He always had a big, resonant tone, but in this piece, he takes it to another level and makes the guitar cry and moan like a living thing. He produces so many different voices that some people assume there are two or three guitarists playing.

This may be my favorite version on this list, but it depends on the day.

What did you think? Did you have a favorite among them?

They may all be the same song, but they are arranged and performed so differently, with such different intentions, that comparisons are almost beside the point. Can you separate your genre preferences from the individual recording?