Alabamy Home and Caravan

Whilst randomly searching online for information about the standard, "Caravan," we came across an interesting article arguing that the piece was based on an earlier Ellington-penned song, "Alabamy Home." When one listens to the recording of it from the 1930s by the Gotham Stompers, one can immediately notice the harmonic and other similarities with Juan Tizol's "Caravan." But when Duke's Orchestra recorded the piece, they emphasized more of the "jungle" sound or aesthetic with use of muted trumpets, as well as featuring vocals. However, the later recording of the tune by Zoot Sims illustrates the unmistakable similarities with "Caravan." Thus, Juan Tizol's credit for the song was probably in emphasizing the vaguely "Oriental" and Spanish themes already evident in "Alabamy Home." Hannah Krall finding parts for the trombone for "Alabamy Home" dated to the period of 1926-1928 clearly demonstrates that "Caravan" was a reworking of "Alabamy Home."

Caravan with Emmet Cohen & Miguel Zenón

Although we haven't listened to Miguel Zenón in several years, when we saw him perform live, we were impressed. He did a great job fusing genres from Puerto Rico with jazz. As such, it is fitting that he would tackle the legendary "Caravan" by Duke Ellington's Puerto Rican bandmate, Juan Tizol. The group interprets "Caravan" with great Latin flair for the first approximately 8 minutes before starting to swing. The drummer, as always, is versatile and excellent.

Jungle Nights in Harlem

"Jungle Nights in Harlem" is one of those classic pieces of Ellingtonia reflecting the "jungle" phase in his music. It's a wild, inventive ride that shows just how advanced jazz composition already was by 1930. 

Ad Lib on Nippon Live

Randomly encountered a live performance of one of the great pieces of late Ellingtonia on Youtube this week. Sure, Orientalism in jazz sometimes relied on coarse stereotypes, but at least it occasionally produced some gems in the musical tradition.  

Mood Indigo for Ellis Marsalis

While I am not deeply familiar with Ellis Marsalis or New Orleans jazz after the 1930, his loss was staggering for jazz. I knew his legacy best through his sons, Wynton and Branford. Sure, I disagree with much of Wynton's statements on jazz (the PBS documentary series was, despite some stronger early episodes, a bit of a disaster). However, his father was an early colleague of Ornette Coleman, proof of how open-minded Ellis was about innovators operating outside bop or New Orleans jazz. Indeed, Coleman's association with Ed Blackwell and Ellis Marsalis establishes his ties to the roots of jazz, if you will. 

I Let a Song Go Out of My Heart

Duke, Duke, Duke. A half century of music encapsulated in one man's life and work. 

Cotton Club Stomp

A classic from Duke Ellington's Cotton Club years. This swinging number, coauthored with Johnny Hodges and Harry Carney, is a good indication of the sort of dance material used by Ellington's band at the legendary (and whites-only) club.

Ad Lib on Nippon

Duke was still making excellent music late in his career. "Ad Lib on Nippon" is all the proof one needs of the sophistication and composing genius of Ellington and Strayhorn. With "exotic" impressions of Japan and the Far East, "Ad Lib on Nippon" is a journey of discovery into parts unknown that never abandons it's emotional content. 

Mournful Serenade

Jelly Roll Morton's "Mournful Serenade" sounds eerily similar to Duke Ellington's "Mood Indigo," an excellent example of the blues informing Ellington's tonal jazz compositions. Morton's number, of course is more obviously rooted in the blues with growling trombone and the New Orleans sound.

Caravan Rara

Jazz standard "Caravan" receives the rara treatment in this delectable number from Mozayik. The use of rara rhythms is seamless and commendable. Unfortunately, the rara section only persists for a little over a minute, it shows the potential for Haitian rara/jazz fusion music, particularly as an uncommon form of "Latin" jazz. Perhaps the two share similar stylistic origins in the street music of New Orleans and Haiti?

Blutopia

Graham Lock's Blutopia: Visions of the Future and Revisions of the Past in the Work of Sun Ra, Duke Ellington, and Anthony Braxton is a thought-provoking and serious work in Jazz Studies. Anytime one can encounter a serious work on jazz that takes the musicians themselves seriously and endeavors to engage with their ideas should be applauded. Lock also manages to impressively integrate an analysis of Sun Ra and Anthony Braxton with Duke Ellington, despite vast differences in style, thought, and age among these titans of jazz. However, Lock raises more questions than he answers in much of the text. 

First, Sun Ra. It's been a number of years since I've read Szwed's Sun Ra book, but much of Lock's analysis felt 'new' or 'fresh' to me. In a literature class over the last several months, Sun Ra came up more than once and we discussed the parallels of his work with Negro spirituals, but because I know very little about spirituals, Lock connecting spirituals and Sun Ra's chants (in addition to the ring shout and the way the Arkestra moved counterclockwise around the audience) was informative. However, I was at times struck by how Lock seems to take Ra's mythology too much at face value, as if there are not several troubling implications from Sun Ra's Astro Black Mythology. I think Lock came closest to grappling with this issue by identifying Ra as someone who chose to identify with Pharaoh over Moses. 

Wilson J. Moses has written about the Pharaoh-Moses dialectic with regards to African American black nationalists and intellectuals, but it seems as if the despotic aspects of Pharaoh are left out of the discussion while the 'authoritarian collectivism' of Moses (and, by extension, Christianity) are rightfully included by Lock's discussion of Ra's opposition to Christianity. As a result, Sun Ra's ideas of the past and future, not to mention the present, are not fully considered since the Moses-Pharaoh conflict is never resolved or rejected (are African Americans stuck with only Moses or Pharaoh? What of Legba?). 

As for Duke Ellington, a composer I have not listened to seriously in probably 5 or 6 years, these two chapters were a breath of fresh air. Ellington's fight for jazz to be taken seriously and the complexity and nuance of African American music to escape essentialist and condescending treatment in the eyes of white America are still relevant, as are his attempts to fight minstrelsy, blackface, and 'Uncle Tom' depictions of black life in popular culture. I think Lock also hit the nail on the head about Duke Ellington's view of black America's history as (mostly) based in the US, and his race pride was inseparable from his patriotism. Such a sentiment is lacking in Sun Ra's revisions of the black past and black present, and Duke Ellington's views are probably the most 'mainstream' when it comes to African American perceptions of their nation. 

Nonetheless, I was a little surprised that Duke Ellington's middle-class background and support for respectability politics was not integrated into the two chapters (Duke believed African Americans must behave in ways that command respect, according to Lock, plus he opposed the confrontational aspects of the Civil Rights Movement). Given the climate around respectability politics among those in African American Studies today, what are the limitations of Duke Ellington's revisions of the past and future? How does his Blutopia fall short? In what ways are Duke Ellington's US-centered black history and future limited by exclusion of Africa? What do we make of the 'world music' aspirations of his later LPs?

Last but certainly the most confusing and perhaps less relevant to Blutopia, Anthony Braxton. I do not entirely buy the argument of Mackey about Legba's limp and jazz swing or syncopation. It seems too fanciful and impossible to 'prove,' plus it may neglect the ways in which Legba's limp may be more a product of dances and music rather than the other way around. I have no evidence for my own assertion either, but I remain skeptical of a Legba interpretation of Braxton's multiformity. Lock is right about Braxton's synesthesia and the heterogeneity of black creativity (not to mention the critiques of jazz critics), but the Legba interpretation and the chapter on Trillium operas was somewhat less successful or convincing. Braxton's 'vibrationism' and spirituality were fascinating, but one must visit his esoteric writings directly to get a more detailed 'feel' for his views. Lock, to his credit, admits this and acknowledges that the chapters on Braxton did not go in depth. 

Overall, however, this is a provocative and insightful reading of three significant jazz artists. Jazz musicians as intellectuals is a growing interest of mine, and Lock has increased my appreciation for artists like Ra, Braxton, and Ellington. Some recent readings of mine on AACM and Art Ensemble of Chicago have tangentially included Braxton, but I think an interesting project would be to focus solely on the differences between Braxton and Art Ensemble of Chicago's approach to "Great Black Music" and revisions of the past and future. Perhaps that will be my next rambling post?

"Im In the Mood for Love" and The Cosby Show

"Am I insane or do I really see heaven in your eyes?"

Moments like this are why The Cosby Show will always be one of my favorite shows. Beautiful, sentimental, and 'fun' family moments like these are unforgettable. Moreover, Cosby got Nancy Wilson to sing, too! The show featured numerous black musical legends, including Stevie Wonder, Dizzy Gillespie, Tito Puente, Lena Horne, Art Blakey, Miriam Makeba and a plethora of others in addition to featuring music of jazz and R&B legends such as James Brown, Stevie Wonder, B.B. King, John Coltrane, and Duke Ellington. Indeed, this show introduced me to King Pleasure, as well as the unforgettable "In a Sentimental Mood" by Duke Ellington, featuring Coltrane. Claire Huxtable (Phylicia Rashad) ain't a bad singer, either.

Duke Ellington, Sathima Benjamin and "Solitude"

After watching segments of the documentary, Sathima's Windsong, I know understand how Benjamin describes her singing as "emoting" as well as noting the influence of Billie Holiday on her vocal style and outlook to jazz vocal artistry. "Discovered" in Europe while Duke was on tour in Zurich, back in 1963, "Solitude" was part of a series of recordings that were never released until the 1990s. Duke plays piano whilst members of Dollar Brand's South African trio accompany, though the somber tone and relatively sparse arrangement is based on an ethereal Sathima's longing vocals, heartbreaking yet optimistic. Indeed, this is perhaps my favorite recording of Ellington's standard, "Solitude," along with an instrumental take from the Money Jungle sessions with Max Roach and Charles Mingus from the same decade. Her take on "Lover Man" from the same 'rediscovered' album recorded in 1963, showcases her affinity for Billie Holiday as well as a unique use of space with occasional stops of breaths that permeate the "Solitude" and "Lover Man."

That these South African jazz artists, from Cape Town, were exposed to jazz and other American (particularly, African-American) musical and cultural influences is noteworthy, too. As a cosmopolitan port city with exposure to American minstrelsy, African-American gospel hymns through the influence of the African Methodist Episcopal Church (Abdullah Ibrahim was exposed to this Christian church, which appealed to many Black South Africans and some Coloureds, and, according to lectures at UCT, Black South Africans generally looked up to or valued African-American intellectuals and culture, to a certain extent), the presence of West Indian and African-American sailors in the docks  (apparently, that's the origin of the nickname, "Dollar," for Ibrahim, and Ibrahim's grandmother was a founding member of the AME church in South Africa, according to this interview ). In addition, radio, marabi and local evolutions of jazz in South Africa's townships, derived from ragtime, blues, as well as 'traditional' forms of music of the Xhosa, Zulu, and other ethnic groups carried over to create a plethora of local jazz scenes and styles in South Africa, as well as the influence of American swing and bop. And, as Sathima herself describes in Sathima's Windsongs, the parallels between American Jim Crow and racism with South African apartheid, from the similar language (Coloured and Colored) to racial segregation, provided another link between Cape Town and South Africa's urban Black population (Black meaning Black South Africans as well as Coloureds), illustrated evidence of trans-oceanic links within a broader sphere of the "Black Atlantic" with similar struggles and identity formulations. The 1970s "Afro" movement in some Coloured Cape Town townships during the rise of youth anti-apartheid resistance, though never completely bridging the divide between Xhosas and Coloureds in the Cape Flats, is another instance of African-American culture, music, and aesthetics appealing to a broader "Black" world across the Atlantic, as John Edwin Mason so convincingly argues in his "Mannenberg: Notes on the Making of an Icon and Anthem."

Thus, Sathima's relationship with Duke, not only represents their musical affinities for one another, but part of a broader process and dynamic set of relations that transcend national divisions, linking Cape Town to 'colored' people of the US in terms of music and, to a certain degree, religion and resistance to apartheid, both American and South African. And last but not least, the beautiful heterogeneous music of American jazz, itself a fusion of African, European and Latin American influences, was never decidedly "American" due to its diverse origins, spread, and codevelopment of local styles all over the world, from South Africa to Ethiopia, France to Russia. We, the listener, are treated in the process with compelling music, that shows the intersections of humanity along cultural lines, through oceans, mountains, deserts, and tundra. Jazz, simply, is universal music.

It Don't Mean a Thing If It Ain't Got that Swing

I love Duke Ellington. I've loved him since middle school, when I was immediately overwhelmed with pride in this urbane and sophisticated black man. Living in an era where black men were thought of as unsophisticated and uneducated brutes, Duke dressed well, composed and played brilliant music, and rejected white American views of blacks as savage primitives. Although he was forced into profiting from the image of black inferiority to make a living in the 1920s and early 30s in his Cotton Club-era days, Duke must have been fully aware that the "jungle" music his band played for whites touring Harlem was an expression of black urban civilization. The appellation "jungle" was imposed by white club owners and people like his manager when he left Washington, D.C. for New York City, Irving Mills. Mills's exploitative contract with Duke gave him 50% ownership for just publishing his music, though Mills sometimes wrote lyrics for Duke's compositions. Either way, like blacks throughout American history, Duke could play the "Tom" to further advance his career and keep his band going.

In addition to  dealing with a racist music industry, Duke was able to maintain relevant and essential in jazz for several decades: from the early 1920s in Washington until his death in New York in the 1970s. Duke never forgot his origins during this period either, identifying and composing material based on the urban black experience, blues music, ragtime, swing, and the lives of the New Negro described by Alain Locke during the Harlem Renaissance. Jazz musicians like Duke were the soundtrack for the literary and philosophical texts of the Harlem Renaissance, since their music was a fusion of the different experiences, musics, and cultures of the Southern Negro in the urban North. One must remember that most of the Negroes in Harlem during this period were recent migrants from the South and the Caribbean, so their combined experiences and regional cultures merged to form the black urban world of jazz and a discourse of counterculture espousing independent black art and literary forms not based on European standards. This is the period in which black poets used the blues form, black artists pursued independent and African-derived models for inspiration, and writers used the black vernacular and folk tradition to create something new instead of regurgitating the products of Western thought. Music, such as jazz, was also part of this innovative approach to black aesthetics. Duke Ellington and others, though entertainers at heart, also composed art music, suites, and experimented with various musical forms and genres to create something new based on the African-American and human experience.

Duke's role in innovative jazz music was part of this new black aesthetic. Always aimed at a general audience and with a message of happiness and joy in the human condition, Duke chronicled  the history of Black America through his suites and compositions. He also embraced Latin and world music multiple times in his career. Hiring Juan Tizol, a Puerto-Rican trombonist, led to some of the first Latin-infused swing of the 1930s and 1940s (of course Latin influences have been present in jazz since the 1920s because of the Caribbean connections of New Orleans to the playing styles and rhythms of the West Indies). Compositions by Tizol like "Caravan" and "Perdido," for example, show Duke's willingness to try new things and use his orchestra as an instrument itself, through his arrangements for the band. Duke's band, under the influence of trumpeter Bubber Miley, was one of the first to develop "jungle music" in the 1920s by using plunger mutes to create growling sounds and effects that evoked African "savagery" for whites slumming it up in Harlem but were a stylistic effect creatively used by jazz musicians for decades. Indeed, these special sounds and often bluesy effects likely influenced the honking sounds of R&B and early rock saxophone playing, in addition to free jazz in the music of Ornette Coleman.

 Furthermore, Duke's use of the orchestra as an instrument to create multiple textures or colors of sound in a recording is a technique Charles Mingus adopted for his own groups, which is self-evident on Mingus's Black Saint and the Sinner Lady, an epic suite exploring his musical roots: Ellington, Latin, classical, flamenco, and blues. Ellington also influenced the entire big band period of the 1930s and 1940s because he was composing "swing" numbers since the 1920s. Later in life, when bebop and its progeny dominated the jazz scene, Duke worked with contemporary musicians such as John Coltrane, Charles Mingus, and Max Roach to revive some of his older compositions in the newer jazz idioms and to illustrate that the older generation could still be avant-garde and experimental despite the perceived limitations of swing and big bands. He proved he could still write (with collaborations from Billy Strayhorn and others as well) and play with various suites dedicated to different continents as well, such as the Far Eastern Suite, which was well-received in the jazz community. 

Duke's ultimate message of love and happiness was expressed by his desire to spread jazz around the globe. He willingly participated with the diplomacy jazz tours of the United States government despite ongoing civil rights setbacks to disseminate jazz because at its core it is celebratory music of the human capacity to create. The structure of the music is also very democratic because of the call and response tradition, and individual expression or improvisation within the group context. If that does not define a music rooted in innate human abilities to love, cooperate, and create for the sake of the collective then Duke Ellington's life was meaningless. His involvement in spreading jazz was also related to civil rights activism. Though his contributions are often overlooked, Duke's group traveled via bus across the country when Jim Crow was king. His band had to face racist whites at every possible corner, and his rise to fame and support for black causes was always present in his music. Indeed, many of his compositions draw on the realities of urban black life in Harlem, and one of his famous suites, Black, Brown, and Beige, based on African-American history, was performed at Carnegie Hall in the early 1940s. Moreover, Duke's message of love manifested itself in support for civil rights groups by benefit concerts and a growing pan-African consciousness reflected in song titles and styles, as the song "Fleurette Africaine" suggests.

Some of Duke's most important songs were not composed by him. In fact, I have heard that he false claimed some songs as his own, but regardless of those negligible errors, his musical legacy is defined by his ability to choose great musicians and organize them in a way to produce the best music of the swing era. Songs like "Solitude," "It Don't Mean a Thing If It Ain't Got that Swing," "Mood Indigo," "Things Ain't What They Used to Be," "Drop Me Off in Harlem," "Do Nothing 'Til You Hear from Me," "Fleurette Africaine," "Caravan," "Perdido," "Ad Lib on Nippon", "East Saint Louis Toodle-oo," "Jungle Nights in Harlem," and "In a Sentimental Mood" are proof of a legacy of musical genius in my book. Many of his songs have entered popular culture lexicon and are jazz standards.

"Take the A Train," a Billy Strayhorn number about taking the A train to get to Harlem, became the group's theme song in the 1940s. 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mi2emUrIyQY

"In a Sentimental Mood" is best heard in a duo performance of Duke and John Coltrane

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sR13ECD71xU

"It Don't Mean a Thing If It Ain't Got that Swing" kicked off the swing craze

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-FvsgGp8rSE

"Jungle Nights in Harlem," from the late 1920s, is an example of Duke's "jungle" phase with hot rhythms, muted brass, and wild clarinet glissandos that were meant to evoke imagery of primitive black Africans for white consumers at the Cotton Club. 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UGYCmXrafeI

Duke Ellington's famous performance of "Diminuendo in Blue" at Newport in the 1950s rightly deserves all the praise. Saxophonist Paul Gonsalves wails and wails and takes the audience into an almost religious experience, like an African-American revival. Pure ecstasy and joy here.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PYgow060zOg

"Fleurette Africaine" deserves the critical praise as well, since this avant-garde gem features both Mingus and Max Roach, two new school musicians who nevertheless loved Duke Ellington since they grew up on his music. 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Pkn6pJ7R8-I

Take the A Train

One of many timeless songs of the Duke Ellington songbook, Billy Strayhorn's "Take the A Train" ranks among the best. Stayhorn himself was the complete opposite of Duke in many ways: Strayhorn was a homosexual, Duke Ellington was a ladies man, and Strayhorn was rather introverted while Duke Ellington was very outgoing. Despite their rather extreme personal differences, the two men were musical soulmates, and Strayhorn composed "Lush Life" and other songs for Duke's band.

"Take the A Train" is about taking the A subway train to get to Sugar Hill up in Harlem. Composed in 1939 (or was it in 1940?), the song alludes to reaching Duke Ellington's apartment in Harlem. Back in the day, the A subway train went from eastern Brooklyn to Harlem and uptown Manhattan. In addition, Sugar Hill was the neighborhood for prosperous and elite African-Americans during this period. Illustrious African-Americans who at different periods in history lived in Sugar Hill include W.E.B. Du Bois, Duke Ellington, and Thurgood Marhsall, the NAACP civil rights lawyer and eventually, a Supreme Court Justice.

The definitive recording of the song is of course Duke Ellington's in the early 1940s. The introduction/theme of the tune does sound like a train (trains are common metaphors and allusions in African-American blues and jazz music). This is one of the best songs of the swing era, and one of Duke Ellington's best. I also love any jazz song that alludes to Harlem, so this is an instant classic.

Ella Fitzgerald also sang the song. I prefer instrumentals over vocal jazz everytime, but her rendition is powerful. I usually dislike scatting, but with Ella it's bearable. And of course this version features Duke Ellington's band backing her.

Clifford Brown and Max Roach also recorded the tune, beginning with a train-like whistle to emphasize the train theme. As one would expect from Brown and Roach, their version swings harder than any other version, and Brown and Harold Land soar on trumpet and sax. My only problem with them is the lack of a real drum solo for Roach, who would've been interesting to hear play a melodic solo for an extended period of time, like his unforgettable solo on "Stompin at the Savoy," an old Chick Webb song about dancing at the Savoy Ballroom in Harlem. 

http://grooveshark.com/s/Take+The+and+quot+a+and+quot+Train/2UCQrq?src=5

Charles Mingus, a big fan and longtime admirer of Duke Ellington in addition to being a student of the jazz tradition, also recorded the song a number of times. My favorite Mingus version is the Cornell live recording, featuring Eric Dolphy on bass clarinet. Played for about 17 minutes, everyone gets a chance to solo. It's fascinating to hear Dolphy's unique, avant garde bass clarinet solo, and pianist Jaki Byard explores jazz's early roots by playing a stride piano solo (sounding a lot like James P. Johnson, Willie the Lion Smith and other stride pianists of the 1920s. Another positive thing about this rendition is Dannie Richmond's drum solo, which actually worked well.

Duke Ellington's Caravan

One of my favorite jazz standards has always been Duke Ellington's "Caravan." Composed in the 1930s by a light-skinned Puerto Rican trombonist in Duke's band, Juan Tizol, "Caravan" is considered one of the earliest Latin jazz compositions. The composition is often played with Afro-Cuban rhythms, and the chromatic melody sounds reminiscent of Middle Eastern music, hence the title. Interestingly, Duke Ellington was not the first to record the song, but members of his band recorded it in a smaller group under the leadership of Barney Bigard, a white clarinetist who was part of the Duke Ellington Orchestra.

Here is the earliest recording of "Caravan," recorded in 1936, I believe. Notice the dark, ominous horns which hint at exotica and Middle Eastern music. Indeed, it's not too surprising that a musician of Puerto Rican origin would compose a song that sounds like North African music, since Puerto Ricans are part Spanish and Spanish music has been profoundly influenced by North African and Arab music (listen to flamenco, saetas, and other forms of Spanish music from Andalusia). This early version doesn't really feature any exotic or Latin drumming, but the clarinet soars and doesn't sound too different from Duke Ellington's jungle music phase in the 1920s.

A future Duke Ellington recording is also interesting for switching up the drums and almost sounding like ska music with that insistent beat that won't quit. The soloists are in top shape, however, and keep things interesting while exploring the North African/Arabian roots of jazz music. Duke himself plays a clunky piano that doesn't interfere with the solos. The highlight? The violin solo, which took me by surprise. 

Thelonious Monk recorded the song as well for his album of Duke Ellington covers on the label, Riverside. Riverside wanted Monk to record well-known songs instead of his own compositions so as to increase sales. It's a fascinating cover since it's a trio recording (piano, bass, drums) and the drummer is going Latin, before returning to the straight swing rhythm of most American jazz. I've always been fascinated at how jazz compositions can transition so easily between swung and Afro-Cuban or Latin rhythms, and this song really succeeds at making that switch smooth.

The American pop and jazz vocal quartet, the Mills Brothers, also recorded their own interesting vocal version of "Caravan." The vocalists are imitating the sound of instruments and improvising over the melody simulataneously, which isn't an easy feat. Far from my favorite rendition of this classic, yet still interesting enough to share with others.

Duke Ellington recorded the song again in a trio setting with Max Roach and Charles Mingus for his Money Jungle LP. This is one of my favorite renditions of the tune for multiple reasons: 1. Max Roach's creative Latin-infused drumming 2. Duke Ellington's piano solo 3. and the presence of Charles Mingus on bass. Duke really goes crazy during his solo, yet never fails to keep the beat. Max Roach swings hard while adding more polyrhythms, and Mingus on bass is always a delight. This version of the tune almost sounds 'skeletal' without horns to create a bigger sound, but it's always fun to hear. Roach sounds melodic like usual.

Art Blakey & The Jazz Messengers also recorded an interesting, bop version of the tune at a frenetic tempo. As one would expect with Blakey, we are given an extended drum solo in which Blakey demonstrates his versatility as a drummer (incorporating swing, Latin, and African rhythms). It's always fun to hear Blakey's solos, although too many in one sitting usually leads to the skip button...

 

Ella Fitzgerald also recorded the song, with lyrics composed by Irving Mills. Not nearly as interesting as the instrumentals, it's still worth hearing because Ella has a fantastic voice that could match the range of any other instrument. 

"Caravan" was sampled by Busta Rhymes and Redman on "Da Goodness." It's always great to hear a jazz standard come alive through hip-hop, although it isn't used well here. Still, it's worth hearing just to see how hip-hop producers are using the music of the past.