In November 1943 and January 1944 Capitol put together an ensemble called The Capitol Jazzmen to celebrate the end of the musicians’ union recording ban. Peggy Lee was called to participate in the second session. She initially declined but then accepted after receiving a second invitation. One song selected for this session was “That Old Feeling,” an Academy Award–nominated Sammy Fain and Lew Brown song from the film Vogues of 1938. In Lee’s version the song was accompanied by celesta, saxophone, bass, and drum set. This enchanting song suitably reintroduced Peggy to her talent for recording. Two months after enduring a cesarean section to deliver her only child, Lee infused a delicate passion and expressive technique into her tone as she wove the aural tapestry of this classic song. Lee’s tenderness matched that of saxophonist Eddie Miller as they gently related the story of a long-ago love reawakening. Lee’s heartfelt rendition of this jazz standard took its rightful place as an important early recording of it, long before Chet Baker contributed an up-tempo swing version to delight the ears and hearts of jazz aficionados a decade later, followed by Frank Sinatra, for whom it scored a hit in 1960.
In “Sugar,” another standard Lee recorded at that first Capitol recording session, Lee’s darker, huskier vocal quality came through in her heavily swinging interpretation. Her slightly naughty sound (produced simply by singing in a spoken pitch range, or alto range, with a wide expressive and stylistic compass) replete with slides, smears, and note bending yielded many sexist comments about her singing from the men who recorded with her. This disrespectful reception by men of Lee’s singular, bold style that sounded incredibly sexy while being marked with appropriate jazz sensibility constituted a challenge with which she would have to cope throughout her life. The male-dominated music industry unjustly judged female singers as sounding like tramps and whores if they sang low with a husky, emotionally charged tone. Likewise, the industry judged female singers to be pure, angelic canaries if they sang in a soprano register with a slightly more classical approach. This prejudice was expressed in comments made by the producer, Dave Dexter Jr., at the recording session during which these two recordings were created: “Peggy Lee could sing like a little girl in a church choir or a husky-voiced, tired old whore.” By contrast, Dexter considered Lee’s sweet and innocent rendition of “That Old Feeling,” which required her to sing in a higher register, “pure angel food.”[2] Music columnist and DJ Eddie Gallaher published: “Peggy is not the girl you’d run into at a high school prom. Her voice is more that of the girl in the smoke-filled room at a truckline café or at a juke joint along a Texas highway.”[3] On another occasion a band member stated, “This chick sounds like a drunken old whore with the hots.”[4] As tempting as it might be for some to consider such descriptions of Lee’s wide range of expression to be complimentary, one must remember that male singers (basses or tenors) would never have been given equally disrespectful judgments based on their expressive additions of smears, slides, changes in tone quality or range, or jazz ornaments. Being among the first Caucasian women to sing in the soulful, down-to-earth manner of her black blues and jazz contemporaries, Lee was exposed to criticism, sexism, attempted physical assault on her person, and other injustices purely on the basis of her talents and how she chose to use them. Enduring gender prejudice and assumed to be an easy sexual target based on her huskier singing style and alluring stage presence, Lee was chased backstage at the Paramount Theater by a group of male audience members. In response to Sinatra’s debut at the same performance, female patrons screamed and swooned. He was viewed as an untouchable idol, she as an objectified target to be played with and possessed. Lee quickly learned by this dichotomous injustice that she needed to protect herself from her audience and began to withdraw to a safer internal space. The safety Lee enjoyed in the recording studio became a creative haven she would return to for the rest of her life.
New American Jazz was the title of the four-disc album that was released from the first two recording sessions (November 1943 and January 1944) by The Capitol Jazzmen. The producer’s note in the album stated that no arrangements were used for the sessions. Instrumentalists and vocalists simply came and played or sang as they wished in an extemporaneous fashion. As jazz required improvisation, this absence of written charts ensured that the final product was, indeed, new American jazz. The album was only the third album ever released by Capitol, preceded only by Songs by Johnny Mercer and Christmas Carols (featuring St. Luke’s Choristers). In addition to Peggy Lee, vocalist and trombonist Jack Teagarden contributed vocals to songs on the New American Jazz album, although the two were not in the studio simultaneously for this session.
“Ain’t Goin’ No Place,” a heavy twelve-bar blues song also sung by Lee at her first Capitol session, was essentially spoken on pitch in the traditional manner of blues singing. Shining through in a few places, her upward-inflected speech style clearly betrayed a nod to the inflection style of Billie Holiday. One also heard the influence of the Empress of the Blues, Bessie Smith, in the strong, assured, full-voiced approach Lee used to sing this female-empowered text. Blues songs often possessed a repeated first line with a contrasting text in the third line that drove home the point raised in the first phrase. This twelve-measure form sometimes included, as in this example, a stop chorus after the first or second chorus, during which the accompaniment suddenly stopped. Musical rests (when the instrumentalists did not play) were then used to call attention to important words in the text. Immediately following the “stop” section an instrumental interlude led up to the final stanzas or verses. Lee finished this tune with a spoken question often attributed to her style. Collaborative composer John Chiodini asserted that Peggy was, in some ways, “the first rap artist,” frequently choosing to speak during a song for a particular desired effect.[5] In this case she likely improvised her final spoken thought: “Why don’t you come on home, baby?”
“Someday Sweetheart” was also recorded at Lee’s inaugural Capitol session with The Capitol Jazzmen, featuring a clarinet solo by Barney Bigard. This song matched the swing style she had first explored with her previous band, the Benny Goodman Orchestra. This piece required a lighter, sweeter-sounding approach than the blues song previously described.
The musical and stylistic distinctions Peggy routinely made in the recording studio deserve mention. The three styles exhibited at this single recording session over four songs—blues, swing, and romantic ballad—each received a singularly authentic rendition and approach. While most singers would have sung all four selections with the same vocal color, breath support, technique, diction, and overall sensibility, Peggy Lee by this time in her career began to consider a song’s background, theme, rhythmic feel, and appropriate storytelling angle. Her thorough efforts to make distinctions among her recordings resulted in a wildly varied catalog of repertoire. She infused her singing with enormous attention to subtlety, nuance, and understated expression. This ability to distinguish appropriate differences among songs grew as her musicianship and interpretive prowess matured. Sarah Vaughan, who recorded Lee’s “What More Can a Woman Do?” admired Lee’s vocalism: “I like those nice breathy tones Peggy gets on her low notes.” Count Basie’s singer Joe Williams was likewise “captivated” by Lee’s rendition of “You Was Right, Baby,” which he first heard in a Chicago race record store that grouped Lee’s single among those of black artists.[6]
Lee’s ownership of her studio performance style grew enormously over the course of her career. Once, while working with Goodman, she expressed a desire to slow down and soften a new arrangement of Gershwin’s “But Not for Me,” but rather than concede to her suggestions, Goodman discarded the song entirely. Similar scenarios followed for Lee as her career climbed into new territory. Record producers at Capitol would eventually allow her to bring original songs and other material preferences