Tony: I’m in the planning stages for a new CD of lullabies, those songs intended to calm the fretful child and persuade him to fall fast asleep. It seems all my younger friends have babies and toddlers. Having raised five of my own and boasting eight grandchildren, I want to record a collection of soothing tunes that might make bedtime a little easier for these young ones.
Darcy is consulting with me on the project, and helping keep me to the straight and narrow. In our discussion the other day, I suggested that lullabies grew to fill a need; they’re a tool crafted to do a specific job. I told Darcy about Harry Stephens who cowboyed near Stoneman Lake around the turn of the previous century. He would eventually marry one of the Miller girls of the Verde Valley Miller Ranch.
In 1910 he had the lonely job of night herding stagecoach horses at Yellowstone Park. To keep himself awake and his high-strung charges calm, he worked on a song that approximates the tone of a lullaby:
“I have cross-herded, trail-herded, circle-herded, too/But to keep you together that’s what I can’t do/My horse is leg-weary, and I’m awful tired/But if I let you get away, I’m sure to get fired/Lay down, little doggies, lay down.”
–Night Herding Song
The classic cowboy tune “Whoopi Ti Yi Yo” has been traced back to a Scottish lament about a young man who paces the shore trying to comfort a babe that is “none of his own.” The American cowboy used the same melody and many of the words to gentle his cattle and lull them to sleep on the trail drives. Mama would close her eyes and hum, nodding her head in a deep affirmation that went far beyond the child’s need—I suspect getting her first peace of the day. At bedtime she drew from a mixed bag that included gospel tunes, train wreck songs, anthems to outlaws (see Jesse James and Pretty Boy Floyd) and jewels like “The Two Little Babes” who got lost in the woods and died.
Darcy: We decided that lullabies are probably as old as language itself, maybe older, even. The cooing sounds we so naturally resort to around babies are learned from our caretakers, but I’d guess that they’re also evolutionary relics. Perhaps they copied the doves that nested in the cliff walls above our early ancestors’ cave homes. Every parent needs a break from the 24/7 of infant care, lest he or she reach the breaking point, and help fulfill the ugly prophecies that are the theme of so many lullabies, like this one:
“When the bough breaks/the cradle will fall/and down will come baby/cradle and all.”
My own memories of lullabies sung to me are a little fuzzy, but I do remember my mom singing “Summertime” to me (from the Gershwin opera “Porgy and Bess”) when I was little. It’s still one of my favorite songs, evoking all kinds of lovely images, in contrast to the opera’s subject matter.
Anyone can sing a lullaby, and probably it’s one of those life skills that we should all have in our bag of tricks, because you can’t really tell an infant to stop crying and go to sleep. Lullabies are boundaries made of sweet sounds. The content of the song doesn’t matter, really. They’re more a modeling of behavior, sound and breath, saying to a youngster, “Here’s another way to be in the world.” Sometimes hearing a lullaby interrupts the crying just long enough for a child to catch her breath and calm herself down.
Tony: Do you have a favorite lullaby you would like to suggest for my album? Please send me a copy of the song or recording to tony@tonynorris.com or 9475 Doney Park Lane, Flagstaff, AZ 86004.
Let us know if you’d like an invitation to the CD release party. Bring your jammies with feet and help us celebrate.
