But, as I said earlier, I’m not going to dig too far into the origins, as it is beside the point I’m interested in. If you are interested, I’ll provide some further help below.

Children and Families

It’s hard not to feel a little ridiculous thinking about this song as something even remotely close to a murder ballad, but this feeling of ridiculousness stems from listening with an adult’s ears. It’s fully reasonable that in the mind of a young child, this song may be just the same kind of thing–a toy murder ballad, if you will, getting us ready for the real thing. Maybe that comes across a little clearer in a version from a children’s collection:

There’s something about the anthropomorphized characters that perhaps makes the grim plot manageable–affording the child a kind of catharsis available to adults in hearing and singing songs about real murders. We’ve discussed many times (including here) how and when children come into contact with murder ballads, in this current age and in ages past. It’s an ongoing subject of interest to me, as different kinds of media take the fore today in informing our imaginations about violence and threat, and as I see my own kids’ childhoods as being more thoroughly supervised than either mine or my parents’.

I almost always encounter “Who Killed Cock Robin?” in an inter-generational setting, though. It’s certainly how my kids first heard it.

Both my mother’s family and my father’s family are singers. My mother is one of eight siblings, and significant numbers of my extended family on that side gather in the mountains of North Carolina for a week every summer. There has long been a tradition, which has sometimes waned and sometimes waxed, of group singing at family get-togethers. Many of the songs are old chestnuts of my grandparents’ and great-

grandparents’ generations–parlor songs or camp songs.

For “Who Killed Cock Robin?”, my eldest uncle, Aubrey, assumes a somewhat solemn aspect, with still a glint of mischief in his eye, and intones the first verse with solemnity and intensity. In my family’s version, much like Glenn Yarbrough’s below, the family turns one of the concluding verses into a chorus:

“And all the birds of the air
Fell to sighin’ and to sobbin’
When they heard of the death
Of Old Cock Robin.” 

Unlike Yarbrough’s version, our chorus is a lively one. The tempo kicks up, and everybody sings loudly and exuberantly. The tone contrasts rather nicely, I think, with the “sighin’ and the sobbin’.” The real dynamic in the song is in the ironic tension between the faux seriousness of the funeral planning for Cock Robin and the fun we’re having in singing about the birds’ lamentations.

I asked Uncle Aubrey to help me out with his recollections of the song, which provide a rather witty and incisive glimpse into the dynamics of the song and our singing of it:

I’m pretty sure I introduced ‘Who Killed Cock Robin?’ to the family. I first heard it at a Boy Scout Camporee–a weekend encampment of a number of area troops. The Ginter Park Presbyterian troop (#7) was pretty old and lethargic (as was the Scoutmaster), but we did at least get to the Camporees. Troop 2, however, at St. Thomas Episcopal (2 blocks away) had a lot of energy (and swagger). And they repeatedly strutted to the front of Camporee entertainment nights to present impressive songs that caught everyone’s attention. I remember their ‘Abdul El Bulbul Emir’ and ‘The Old Family Toothbrush That Hung By the Sink’ (just one for the whole gang–‘father abused it, mother misused it [underarm gesture], sister refused it, and soon twill be mine.’ And they also did ‘Who Killed Cock Robin?’.

I think ‘Cock Robin’ caught on pretty quickly with [our] family. Its catchy chorus can be learned quickly and sung with gusto–giving a sense of exuberant collective accomplishment (repeatedly!). And the verses are short and attention-getting and don’t make people overly dependent on a leader–as well as more quietly alternating with the lusty choruses. I’d say the often archaic language helps to soften and add interest to what might otherwise be a song that would be a little grim, especially for young singers.

(Incidentally, my mother and her sisters once, at least once, managed to scandalize one of my more, let’s just say, “conservative,” great aunts with their “lusty choruses” on “Titanic (It Was Sad When That Great Ship Went Down).” Similar phenomenon, but another story.)

You can see brief home movie clips of our singing the song here and here.

As three generations of my family gather around with song books in hand, I’m rather glad for this song to be part of the repertoire for my kids’ generation. They get out of it just what Aubrey describes, and I think there are are other benefits as well. As long as the singing continues to get new energy and welcome new family, it’s a beneficial source of family traditions and memories, and clearly an opportunity for the kids to experience being a part of something larger and meaningful. That the song mixes joy and sadness, imaginary or not, is probably good practice.

Who Killed Cock Robin?“Who Killed Cock Robin?”, by Glenn Yarbrough (Myspace)

Who Rocked Cock Robin?

I’ll finish with a few of my favorite performances among recent recordings of the song, including one that may just make you want to get up and dance.

Peggy Seeger

I’ll start with Peggy Seeger, not only because it’s an excellent version, but because Peggy’s recording provides fascinating background notes by Elizabeth Higgins Null and Charles H. Baum . Null and Baum (another great pairing of names!) dig into the history of the song in a way I said that I wouldn’t, but is highly illuminating both of that history and of how the song fits within children’s musical imaginations. Peggy’s version, with a tasteful banjo accompaniment puts you right in the heart of the mountains from the first few plucks of the strings.

(You can also hear an excerpt of the song here.)

Greg Brown approaches the song on his 2004 release of traditional songs, Honey in the Lion’s Head, with a low-key, serious approach, and simple instrumentation. With his gravelly-voiced baritone, he doesn’t exactly lift it up to the exuberant and lusty choruses for the sake of the children. This is more of a version to listen to alone on a rainy day when feeling just a little blue. It’s quite lovely in that light.

Bird Radio‘s presentation is more theatrical, with an underworldly percussion style reminiscent of Tom Waits. It has a darker, more macabre feeling too it–thoroughly enhanced, I think, by the video presentation below. It’s probably not how I’d introduce my kid to the song, unless my kid was Wednesday Addams.

(Also on Spotify here.)

My favorite current version, though, is by Marshall, North Carolina-based Dana and Susan Robinson on their album American Hornpipe. I first came across Dana Robinson’s music when he was based in New England, with “Empty Page/Start Again,” off of his album Elemental Lullaby. I’m happy to stumble across his work again here. True to the “Hornpipe” in the album title, this version of “Cock Robin” is likely to get you off your feet and dancing by the end, which feels quite right to me after all the others. So, make some space around you and turn it up.