Chet Forrest and Bob Wright wrote the song “It’s a Blue World” in 1939, for the Columbia musical Music in My Heart, and its first commercial release was by Glenn Miller in early 1940, about a year before this lovely blue 1941 Cadillac Fleetwood Sixty Special would have originally been sold. Even so, I always associate the song with the Frank Sinatra version, recorded two decades later. Like this Cadillac, it marked a transitional point between distinctly different eras.
Frank Sinatra recorded “It’s a Blue World” on September 12, 1961, and it was released in early 1962 on his album Point of No Return. It was his last LP under his contract with Capitol Records, which had seen him rise from burned-out has-been to one of the world’s biggest recording stars. Point of No Return was also a reunion between Sinatra and arranger Axel Stordahl, who had arranged many of Sinatra’s early solo hits of 1940s (although some of the album tracks, including “Blue World,” were actually arranged by Heinie Beau); it would be the last time they worked together before Stordahl’s death in 1963. The album’s title was apt: Although Sinatra had made some of the best records of his career at Capitol, he wanted more than the label was prepared to give him, and so he’d founded his own label, Reprise Records. By the time the songs for Point of No Return were recorded, he had already released several albums on Reprise, and was champing at the bit to wrap up his Capital obligations and move on. His subsequent Reprise era would give him greater control and more money, but despite some unquestionable artistic highlights, it would eventually see him straining to remain relevant in the face of changing popular tastes.
Cadillac was at a similar crossroads in 1941. The division had recovered splendidly from its Depression-era slump of a few years earlier and weathered a late-thirties recession. Now, it had finally cast off the last of its slow-selling V-16 cars and its former “companion make,” LaSalle, which both expired after 1940. With Cadillac’s V-8 now making an impressive 150 gross horsepower (110 net hp), the V-16 had seemed extraneous, and division management had realized they stood to make more money with a “entry-level” car badged as a Cadillac rather than a LaSalle. Priced a full $400 below the cheapest 1940 Cadillac, the new 1941 Series 61 risked cheapening the brand, but it also promised much greater volume and greater commercial success.
In January 1941, Cadillac would also introduce a new optional feature that no other luxury car in the world could yet match: the four-speed, fully automatic Hydra-Matic transmission, which had been introduced a year earlier by Oldsmobile. Take-up was low at first (only about 30 percent in 1941), but within a decade, few Cadillacs would still be sold with the once-pioneering Synchro-Mesh manual transmission.
Styling was changing, too. In profile, the 1941 Sixty Special was still clearly a lineal descendant of Bill Mitchell’s epochal 1938 design, which introduced its notchback profile, “rolled” beltline, and delicate bright window reveals (filched without apology from the 1934–1936 Panhard et Levassor “Panoramique”). However, those features were now overshadowed by the massive new grille, inspired by Art Deco buildings along Wilshire Boulevard in Los Angeles, and the exaggerated bullet fenders, which now extended back into the front doors on some models (including the Sixty Special).
The other big Cadillac news for 1941 was the fastback “Aerodynamic Series,” which would become increasingly prominent through the 1940s, although for now, it was only available in the cheaper series.
This blue Sixty Special it isn’t a fastback (nor does it have Hydra-Matic), but you can still clearly see the new idiom beginning to take shape. Stylistic continuity was a Cadillac watchword throughout the division’s heyday, but the basic design of the Sixty Series was obviously a product of the 1930s, and no longer as groundbreaking or striking as it had been three years earlier. Within not too many years — after the war that almost everyone now knew America would soon enter — what the salesman’s guide called its “dignified streamlined appearance” would look start to look very dated indeed.
No matter: As the era in which it was built fades from living memory, the 1941 Sixty Special no longer needs to worry about looking dated. As with Sinatra, it has transcended its awkward transitional phases and various contradictions to attain a kind of immortality. To see it now, especially in such beautifully maintained and polished condition, is to step momentarily out of the normal flow of time: Suddenly, it’s 1941, and if you turned the car’s radio on, you wouldn’t be too surprised to hear a live broadcast by Glenn Miller (who died in 1944).
At age 83 — Hyperpack took these shots in June 2024, so we can be reasonably confident that it’s probably still on the road — this blue Sixty Special is now a year older than Sinatra was at the time of his death in 1998, and it has almost certainly outlived everyone who originally designed, assembled, or sold it. If it’s not quite as striking or historically noteworthy as some of the Cadillacs that came before or after it, it still makes you want to tip your hat.
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Cadillac can be thankful they didn’t introduce radical new styling at this point – they would have had little time to establish it before production was halted for WW2, and postwar the design would no longer be fresh. That was one of the many things that hurt Packard who had brought out the ultramodern Clipper in mid-1941, and didn’t get around to a full postwar redesign until 1951 after the 1941 bodies had been amortized. The prewar Cadillacs, both the classic notchbacks and fastbacks, were elegant and modern enough to look good in the first few years of postwar production.
I somehow was unaware of that late Sinatra/Stordahl album, which I will have to check out. “It’s a Blue World” (for some reason not listed on the album cover, although it is indeed on it) for me will always be a Four Freshman song though. One of the “collegiate folk” groups popular in the 1950s, I finally decided to check them out after hearing Brian Wilson cite them as a major influence a few dozen times. Listening to this 1951 recording now, it’s easy to hear how these intricate harmonies left such an indelible influence on the Beach Boys, who basically took Four Freshman harmonies, Chuck Berry guitar riffs, and Dick Dale attitude and mixed these wildly disparate artists and genres into something new and their very own.
There are many versions of “It’s a Blue World” — a few years after the Four Freshmen version, it was the title track of a Mel Tormé LP, and a few years after that, Beverly Kenney did a fine version on her LP Born to Be Blue. However, I heard the Sinatra version first, and was aware of the behind-the-scenes saga, which is quite interesting. Stordahl had done an enormous amount to make Sinatra a solo star in the ’40s, but they parted ways after Sinatra went to Capital, a combination of Sinatra wanting a new sound (which he found with Nelson Riddle) and his resentment at Stordahl going to work with Eddie Fisher, which Sinatra saw as disloyal and never forgave. Their reunion was not sentimental at all, with Sinatra reportedly ignoring Stordahl (who he presumably knew was very sick) and taking a brusque, let’s-get-this-over-with attitude toward the sessions.
Sinatra still managed to sneak a few kind wordsabout Stordahl in the intros in some of his 1960s live recordings. The Capitol album was rushed though and recorded in just two days. The Mel Tormé rendition is great too. I miss the days when great songs were recorded by 50+ people and someone always found something new in them.
Stordahl died in 1963, which may have taken the edge off Sinatra’s irritation with him. They did go way back, of course, and Sinatra owed him a lot, although that kind of gratitude was not really in Sinatra’s wheelhouse except in certain narrow ways.
A pet peeve of mine is that a lot of people today are so accustomed to the singer-songwriter that they don’t grasp that that wasn’t how it generally worked before 1970. Even with rock and R&B, it was really common for there to be multiple versions by different artists, but I’ll hear people describing different versions of songs by composers like Jimmy Van Heusen and Sammy Cahn or Burt Bacharach and Hal David as “covers,” when they’re clearly not.
I can’t find any indication the Beach Boys recorded “Blue World”, but you can clearly hear the group’s derivation from the Freshmen. I wonder why we never got a concept “Beach Boys Sing The Four Freshman” album?
Not a whole album, but the Boys did record “Graduation Day” based on the Four Freshmen rendition, and played it frequently at their early concerts.
I use a website “secondhandsongs” to track down different versions of a song. It is an excellent resource. For “It’s a Blue World” it lists 57 versions, starting with Glen Miller, then Frank Sinatra.
My favorite Sinatra song ( I Did It My Way) is emblematic of Cadillacs Sixty Special, doing things their own way. Regrets? They a few! In fact MANY bad decisions, especially in the 80s. But through it all the Sixty Special was always SPECIAL. For me, the 58 Sixty Special was the epitome of OTT excessively chromed upscale Luxury vehicles. I don’t recall the last year of the Sixty Special, but the Fleetwood Brougham deElegance ( I had an 89 ) carried on the top of the line with the exception of Series 75 Limos. Even MY 89 wasn’t considered a Fleetwood, the Fleetwood name having given to 🤮 downsized FWD vehicles. ANOTHER Cadillac mistake. From the Standard of the WORLD to today’s CADILLACKING SUVS. Oh how the mighty have fallen!
I dips me lid to her in blue, her an air-taking beauty whatever her rank in family, just for her being kind enough to glide on past.
I’ll confess I don’t remember that Panhard was still Levassoring in ’36, thinking that that combination was only ever for tiller-steered things high up on some tilty one-cylindered plank from the dawn of it all, or, for the first half the name, those later twin-cylindered aero wonders of the ’50’s on. That ’36 P et L is very sweet.
If I have to have the blues again – history announces it’s more than possible, dammit – I hope they look just like this, the aesthetic pleasure being enough to get me through.
Minus Sinatra, though, whose notes have always been a little too ’60’s flat-sided for me.
* old Aus for tipping one’s hat
The immediate pre-war Cadillacs fascinate me, and make my short list of classic cars I’d like to own. To me, these represent the pinnacle of streamlined and art deco design, and a captivating glimpse into the last gasp of an era. I always think how the original owners must have felt when they bought these cars, knowing that the world was being plunged into unimaginable despair, but facing that despair with the dignity of driving of Cadillac.
The last one of these cars I came across was at a 2022 car show (below) – I believe it was a long-wheelbase 1941 Series 67. A truly mesmerizing car, though I think the featured car here is even more so on account of its color. The blue is an outstanding color here – looks like it has a beige interior too, which is an outstanding combination.
I had forgotten that Sinatra recorded Blue World. I tried his late Capitol albums years ago and found them wanting. If ever Sinatra just phoned it in, it was on those last 4 (I believe) albums he owed Capitol under their contract. I am another who will tip my hat to The Four Freshmen (from Indiana, btw) as the performers most identified with the song.
In some old family pictures is one of my mother’s Aunt Alma standing in front of a 41 Cadillac in her driveway. Years later I bought her 1963 Sixty Special, which was the last car she bought. I always found the 41 to be an almost perfect expression of the Cadillac aura.
A beauty then as now .
“A tip of the pin” would be slang for tipping your hat in respect when this fine motorcar was new.
I grew up with Sinatra as a #1 radio star, I understand many never did like his music, I do if not all of it .
-Nate
Sinatra was a recording star for close to 60 years, and so there are some real misses as well as hits, and some that even Sinatra hated. (He loathed “Strangers in the Night” and “My Way,” although those were among his biggest latter-day hits, and he found some of the junk Columbia made him record in the early ’50s humiliating as well.) For a long time, I found him more interesting as a character than necessarily as a musician, but as with vintage Cadillacs, his better efforts are awfully impressive even if they aren’t exactly your speed.
The ’41 is a favorite of many Cadillac/LaSalle Club owners for good reason. I wanted one but ended up with a ’47 60S, essentially the same car reskinned.
The ’47 60S is newest car considered by the CCCofA to be a true classic, as is the ’41 60S and the ’46/7 Packard Custom Super Clipper.
The Clipper’s ’41 introduction was most unfortunate timing, Rinehart claimed it was Packard’s reaction to Mitchell’s 60S. But it was so elegant it still looked wonderful even after the war, when it had more variants and engine choices, the ’41 was available only with the 282 where Cad had its proven and superb 346 flathead V8. Clipper didn’t get its ultimate and fabulous 356 9 bearing 8 until postwar so advantage: Cadillac. I must say imo the ’41 Clipper had the styling advantage pre-and postwar, but the ’41 60S will always be an icon.
Many club members prefer the Cad’s flathead V8 to the early overhead, it was smoother, had tons of torque (they put them in Stuart tanks!) and plenty powerful. I tend to agree, it was a great, if inefficient, engine.
I feel the same way about Packard’s 9-bearing 327 straight-8s vs. their later, gotta-stay-atop-the-latest-trend V8s. Power up, smoothness and reliability down. I know what I value higher.
Wasn’t the original Lincoln Continental (built through 1948) considered the last CCCofA classic?
The fastback is striking and commands my attention. The four door? Meh, but the fenders are killer.
While I appreciate Sinatra’s music, his Reprise label may have been his longest lasting contribution to popular music.
Good styling transcends all eras. This Caddy has always been on my list of stunning styles. Great essay including tying it in with Frankie. Yes, i grew up listening to him on the radio when he was in his stardom in the forties. A neighbor had bought his ’39 Buick Roadmaster new. He kept it through the war and into the early 1950’s driving his wife and himself with pride. They had no children. This was his baby. It had dual spare tire carriers, one in each front fender. The color was dark blue and Mr. Foster maintained it well. So, hats off to this ’41 Sixty Special, too!
One of the readers just mentioned he had a “41 Caddy”, the other day. I now know what they look like.
There’s a red, early “60’s” Plymouth, in one of the pics.
I’d like to see it.
The ’41 Sixty Special is the model that started many of Cadillac’s iconic design cues. The bold egg crate grille had survived until the mid 2000’s. It is a car that I admire greatly. The Sixty Special was Cadillac’s finest “owner driven” model, as described in their sales materials. The essence of what made Cadillac so desirable, for so many years.
Sinatra was Sinatra, I don’t especially care for his early work, it was his recordings with Nelson Riddle that caught my attention. I remember hearing many of his later songs playing on the radio in the late 60’s. He was contemporary, but fading from relevance for the masses, especially as the Youth movement took over popular music. One of his final albums was Reprise, The very good years. It’s a real favorite of mine.
I went to check out a tired ’41 Sixty Special offered for sale on my local CL. It was rough, but still very impressive, with amazing presence. I had also checked out a nice ’40 LaSalle and was equally impressed. As my years as a car enthusiast draw to a close, I think that I might want to own one of these amazing Forties era cars.
I am sure it is still on the road. It is an immaculate Car, even for a car show car, It looked amazingly fresh when I took those pictures in June 2024.
SUBLIME CAR. THX.