No songwriter consciously sets out to write a standard. A song becomes a standard on its own over time, after it’s been recorded and re-recorded and re-interpreted by numerous artists specializing in various styles over the course of several decades or even generations. Or even a century.
“Bye Bye Blackbird” is one such song. Written in 1926 and recorded by dozens of artists – most often in a jazz context – it has become part of what is commonly known as “the Great American songbook.”
The song was a collaborative effort between composer Ray Henderson and lyricist Mort Dixon. Henderson was a New York-based songwriter who became a prominent figure in Tin Pan Alley by the early 1920s. His songwriting partnership with Buddy DeSylva and Lew Brown was the subject of a 1956 musical film called The Best Things in Life Are Free. Dixon, a prominent lyricist and a frequent collaborator with Henderson, was also famous for “I’m Looking Over a Four-Leaf Clover,” which he co-wrote with songwriter and pianist Harry Woods.
Beyond the song’s authorship, other details about its genesis are a little hazy. If there’s a specific calendar date attached to the copyright of “Blackbird,” I can’t find it. However, it must have been published in the early part of 1926 – perhaps January or February – because the first recording of the song appears to have been cut by Sam Lanin and His Orchestra for Bell Records in March of that year. But even that’s not certain, because other sources cite Gene Austin as the first bandleader to put the song on disc.
I’m putting my money on Lanin, because his name shows up more frequently than Austin’s. A clarinetist and violinist by training, Lanin was also a skilled arranger and prolific in the studio. He directed more than 400 recording sessions throughout the 1920s, and his band served as a steppingstone for several musicians and bandleaders who later became A-listers during the big band era of the 1930s and ‘40s: Jimmy and Tommy Dorsey, Jimmy McPartland, Bix Beiderbecke and others.
There’s also the question of the Angelus Sisters, whose images appear on the original sheet music for reasons that are unclear. They were an American singer/actor duo who appeared on a few other sheet music covers in the mid- to late 1920s, but not much else is known about them a century after the fact. While Spotify’s vast catalog includes plenty of recorded music from the period, there are no tracks by this sister act to be found. Their story may just be lost to time.
In the decades since Henderson and Dixon’s original composition and Lanin’s 78 rpm recording, “Bye Bye Blackbird” has taken on a life of its own – which is exactly the organic process that makes a standard a standard.
The song gradually worked its way onto the burgeoning jazz landscape in the 1930s and ’40s. It was featured in Pete Kelly’s Blues, a 1955 movie musical starring Jack Webb in the title role as a cornetist and bandleader. Peggy Lee sings the song as part of her Oscar-nominated portrayal of Rose Hopkins, a jazz singer plagued by alcoholism.
Two years later, Julie London recorded a smoky rendition of “Bye Bye Blackbird” (with Benny Carter on alto sax and Pete Candoli on trumpet) for her 1957 album, Julie. Miles Davis recorded a version that same year for his acclaimed ‘Round About Midnight album with saxophonist John Coltrane, pianist Red Garland, bassist Paul Chambers and drummer Philly Joe Jones. Nearly seventy years later, the track and the album overall are considered high points in Miles’ career.
The song has since been covered by countless jazz artists: Coltrane, Ella Fitzgerald, Ron Carter, Sarah Vaughan, Keith Jarrett, Ray Brown, Diana Krall, and so many others. But it has also transcended the parameters of jazz and made its way into less likely genres and places. Gravelly-voiced English rock singer Joe Cocker recorded the song for his 1969 album, A Little Help from My Friends. Cocker’s version resurfaced in director Nora Ephron’s 1993 romantic comedy, Sleepless in Seattle. Fifty years after Peter Kelly’s Blues played on the big screen, Peggy Lee’s version would show up in filmmaker Peter Jackson’s 2005 remake of King Kong.
Rat packers Dean Martin and Sammy Davis, Jr., recorded it. Former Beatles Ringo Starr and Paul McCartney each have cut versions for albums released in their respective solo careers. Hell, even Tiny Tim covered it in 1996 with polka-rock band Brave Combo for the final album of his career.
Interpretations have run the gamut from vocal to instrumental, from sparse to multilayered, from uptempo and breezy to slow and sultry, from meticulously arranged to freewheeling and improvisational. Regardless of choices, it has become a familiar touchstone for listeners and audiences everywhere.
Such is the nature of standards, jazz or otherwise – a sense of timelessness that emerges after decades of reinterpretation for new generations of listeners. Despite what the title and the lyrics suggest, there’s no need to bid this blackbird farewell. After a hundred years, it doesn’t appear to be going anywhere.