Bing Crosby
‘Rarities from the Hollywood Studios’
Sepia Records

The claim has been made that Bing Crosby’s is the most heard voice of the 20th century — possibly of  all time. To multiple generations, he was omnipresent: the voice not just of popular music, but of cinema and broadcasting; he dominated all the media between the Great Depression and World War II and well into the era of post-war prosperity; there wasn’t a soul on the planet who didn’t know who he was and what he sounded like. Nor, apparently, was there a song he couldn’t sing.

If Crosby is overall less well known at this millennial moment than some of the great younger singers whom he did much to inspire, such Frank Sinatra and Ella Fitzgerald, it’s not the fault of his fans in England, who have diligently made as much of his music as possible available in the digital era. 

Starting in 1984, a group of harcore British fans began systematically restoring all of Crosby’s commercial recordings — song by song, even take by take — and releasing them on a specialty label called Jonzo, first on LPs then on CDs. The entire project took about 30 years, or roughly the same amount of time that it took Crosby to make all those recordings to begin with.  

The long-awaited result was a total of 60 albums — the last 10 of which were released by a British label, Sepia Records — which cover all of Crosby’s commercial recording sessions between 1926 and 1957. Along the way, many volumes of his live radio performances have also been released, and the Crosby estate has generously thrown lots of additional material our way.

Yet the new set, modestly titled “Rarities from the Hollywood Studios,” contains performances that have not been seen by virtually anyone, at least not for 70 to 90 years. Assembled by a stalwart collector and archivist, John Newton — who acquired some of these avises rara in an auction from the collection of the daughter of a Paramount Pictures musical director, Nat Finston — the tracks here all derive from the pre-recordings made for his movie soundtracks.  

In some cases, these soundtrack recordings were edited for use in promoting the feature films on the radio, into what were then known as “air trailers.” The first disc of this two-CD package contains 70 minutes of these very scarce special preview discs; they’re consistently spiffy and fun, and, in some cases, more enjoyable than the pictures themselves. 

There’s a two-part promo for the 1934 “We’re Not Dressing” (1934), in which Crosby plays opposite Carole Lombard and sings a rich score by Mack Gordon and Harry Revel. A side bonus is an appearance by the very young Ethel Merman, described by the announcer as a “scorchy torch singer who sent many a thrill through blasé Broadway”; La Merm gets a first-rate comedy number, “It’s Just a New Spanish Custom.” 

Another Broadway legend, Mary Martin, serves as Crosby’s leading lady in “Rhythm on the River” (1940). This is another particularly rewarding score, with songs by Johnny Burke, who probably put more words in Crosby’s mouth than any other lyricist, working with veteran composer James Monaco as well as Victor Schertzinger, the movie director who doubled as songwriter and excelled in both capacities. Remarkably, none of these excellent songs — among them “Only Forever” and “That’s For Me” — became standards; “I Don’t Want to Cry Anymore,” later recorded by Mel Tormé, among others, came closest.

The second CD contains largely unedited versions of the soundtrack vocals themselves, before dialog and sound effects were added, and offering a few alternate takes along the way.  There are gems aplenty, including an expanded version of one of Crosby’s greatest love songs, “It’s Always You,” from “Road to Zanzibar,” with a lyric by Burke and a melody by his greatest partner, Jimmy Van Heusen. Even the few misfires here — like a distinctly lesser Burke-Van Heusen offering titled “You’ve Been Looking Through My Dreams,” which was wisely cut from “Road to Bali” (1952) — are worth hearing.

There’s a highly rewarding sequence of songs from the 1937 “Waikiki Wedding,” one of Hollywood’s first Hawaiian-style musicals. It starts with an otherwise unknown song — “Our Last Hawaiian Moon” — recorded by Crosby in the islands with a local band as a sort of demo for the production. “Blue Hawaii” would go on to be recorded by Sinatra and inspire one of Elvis Presley’s best movies, but “In a Little Hula Heaven” is a lesser-known delight; it’s sung mostly by co-star Shirley Ross, though Crosby joins in, performing an accompaniment to her via both singing and whistling, during which he devises semi-improvised harmonies and illustrates what a superior musician he was.

Crosby’s breakthrough in the art of popular singing was his naturalness, his unforced intimacy, his imminent believability, and his sheer emotional honesty. Yet, conversely, he sang with more conviction and energy on his movie soundtracks, perhaps  because he was being directed or because the film scenarios themselves inherently required more dramatic engagement.

Whatever the case, these film vocals are some of the finest work from one of the most amazing careers in all of American music.