This week the Decca releases include an album of dance records picked by Arthur Murray and called, of all things, "Arthur Murray Taught Me . . . etc." But they also include a fine 12-inch instrumental pairing by Bob Crosby's band, a two-part version of the blues "Outskirts of Town" by Jimmy Lunceford, and an album of blues and other folk songs by Libby Holman. Decca seems to have cornered the market on jazz for the time being on its new fifty-cent black label, except for the Commodore Music Shop, whose most recent products under Eddie Condon and Mel Powell compare favorably with almost anything in your collection.

The Bob Crosby item has on one side a rather effectively weird, or maybe it's weirdly effective, piece by the arranger for the band, Bob Haggart, who calls it "Chain Gang." Tomtoms thump throughout, and there is some raucous muted trumpeting by Yank Lawson, who has heard Cootie Williams play. The reverse is an arrangement for the orchestra of the beautiful piano improvisation by Jess Stacy called "Ec-Stacy," which was recorded nearly three years ago. This remake stars Stacy again, but although it is an attractive, easily swinging performance, it has lost most of the expressiveness of the original, largely because now, with a rhythm section supporting him, Stacy can't vary the tempo, as he was able to do when he played the number solo.

The Lunceford record is blues with soup-and-fish on--a majestic, almost top-heavy, arrangement smoothly played with the firm rhythmic background characteristic of this band. The result is satisfactory, but the lyrics aren't given the rich, vibrant interpretation they get from Al Morgan these spring evenings down at the Savoy, where Sabby Lewis's boys often play over their heads backing him up. That authentic, low-down atmosphere of the blues loses itself in the dressiness of the performance.

You will find the atmosphere, though in the Libby Holman records. It's just a guitar that accompanies the Moanin' Low Voice, and the music is very simple and, yes, sincerely done. It is the sort of thing that he who doesn't generally appreciate jazz will find easy and satisfying to listen to, and I suppose this album will make the blues fashionable among what's left of the carriage trade that used to love Libby so. . . .

The Buckminster Hotel will probably be the site of a jam session next Sunday, which Frankie Newton and Peewee Russell may very possibly attend. . . . By next week I expect to have some nice things to say about the Red Allen band which opens tonight at the Ken. And not long after that a valedictory from here will be in order.