Baby, if it ain’t got that swing, it don’t mean a thing—and Paul Tobey’s got the real McCoy right here, no jive. This is the full-blown, finger-poppin’ arrangement of Duke Ellington’s immortal anthem, cooked up in a dusky G minor that slinks like midnight velvet. We’re talkin’ four-to-the-bar propulsion, horn-like right-hand stabs, left-hand tenths that walk the dog, and chord symbols so hip they need a license—tritone subs, back-door dominants, and altered ninths that purr like a ’58 Cadillac on a back-beat cruise.

This ain’t no lead-sheet skeleton; it’s a complete chart, ready to swing from the downbeat to the tag, with every riff, every ghosted grace note, every call-and-response shout etched in pristine ink.

Advanced cats will dig the voiced-out block harmonies and the bebop-tinged passing chords; intermediate swingers will cop the groove and the feel without breaking a sweat. For a limited time only, this gasbook gem is stone free—grab it, woodshed it, make it moan. But when the clock strikes, the bandstand clears and the offer scat-sings its last “doo-wah.” Don’t sleep, daddy-o—swing don’t wait.