Ella Fitzgerald Sings the Cole Porter Song Book is the album that defined the great American songbook. Recorded in 1956 with Buddy Bregman's lush arrangements, it remains the definitive interpretation of Porter’s wit and romance. Essential for anyone who wants to hear what vocal jazz perfection sounds like.
There’s a moment on “All Through the Night” where Ella Fitzgerald opens her mouth and the horn section seems to lean in closer. It’s not in the arrangement. It’s in the way she lets a vowel hang just a fraction longer than expected, and the orchestra — under Buddy Bregman’s watchful baton — follows her like a dancer who already knows your next step. That kind of trust doesn’t come from rehearsal. It comes from having Norman Granz in the control room.
Granz produced this album the way he produced everything: with an iron will and an instinct for perfection. He’d fought to make Ella the star she deserved to be, dragging her away from the novelty numbers her earlier labels forced on her, and he knew Cole Porter’s catalogue was the crucible. Recording at Capitol Studios in February 1956, he gave Bregman a fifty-piece orchestra and told him to treat each song like a miniature movie. The result swings when it should and sighs when it’s told.
The Song Book Concept
This was the first of eight Song Book albums Ella would record for Verve, each devoted to a single composer. Granz’s idea was radical: take a jazz singer and back her with the kind of orchestral resources usually reserved for Broadway cast albums. It worked because Ella had the chops to make a hundred strings feel like a single breath. On “I Get a Kick Out of You,” she practically dances with Barney Kessel’s guitar while the brass section waits its turn like a gentleman at a cocktail party.
Bregman’s arrangements are the unsung heroes here. He never lets the orchestra overpower her — listen to how the reeds pull back on “Night and Day” just so she can lean into the melody. Paul Smith’s piano comps with a dry champagne fizz, and Joe Mondragon’s bass walks a line that feels like a late-night conversation. Alvin Stoller’s brushwork on “You’re the Top” is so light you might miss it, but it’s the thing that keeps the whole machine from floating away.
The Sound of It
This album was recorded to three-track tape at Capitol’s legendary Studio A, then mixed to mono for the original LP. The engineering by John Palladino is transparent — you can hear the click of Stoller’s sticks and the bloom of Ella’s voice as she steps slightly back from the mic on the high notes. It’s a sound that rewards a quality system: cheap speakers will flatten the reverb of the room, but a good pair of headphones reveals the air between the instruments.
The 2016 Verve/UMe vinyl reissue, cut by Bernie Grundman, is the one to hunt for. It restores the warmth of the original tapes without the noise. The 1990s CD editions are fine, but they compress the dynamics that make Ella’s entrance on “It’s De-Lovely” feel like a door opening.
You could spend a year studying how she handles a single phrase on this album and still not unlock all its secrets. The way she bends the word “divine” on “I’ve Got You Under My Skin” — it’s not about range or technique. It’s about a woman who understood that a song isn’t finished until the singer decides what the lyrics mean. And here, she decided everything.
What makes this album different from other Ella Fitzgerald albums?
This was the first of her legendary Song Book series, where she focused on a single composer with full orchestral arrangements. Norman Granz gave her the budget and freedom to treat each song as a miniature concerto, and the results are more cohesive and dramatic than her earlier single-date sessions.
Why is the Cole Porter Song Book considered essential listening?
Because it defines how popular songs should be interpreted. Ella’s ability to shift from playful to poignant within a single phrase, combined with Bregman’s tasteful arrangements, set a standard that vocalists still measure themselves against. It’s also a masterclass in diction and microphone technique.
What format should I buy this album on?
The 2016 Verve/UMe vinyl reissue cut by Bernie Grundman is the audiophile choice — it preserves the original mono tape warmth with minimal noise. The 1990s CD is serviceable but compressed; the 24-bit hi-res downloads (available on Qobuz) offer a good compromise. Avoid early CD pressings that used noisy masters.