When I was in college, I liked to dip into the dollar bin at the record store. That’s where I picked up Jerry Garcia’s second solo album. It was forgettable, even for an obsessive fan like me. Forgettable, that is, except for one song:
I had never heard of Django Reinhardt at that point, and I had no idea what I was hearing. All I knew was that I loved it. Jerry Garcia had his ups and downs as an artist, but he always had great taste in other people’s music.
“Russian Lullaby” is an Irving Berlin tune written in 1927. (Berlin was himself born in Russia.) It isn’t a core jazz standard, but it’s part of the expanded canon. Jerry gives the tune an impeccably cozy 1930s vibe, with fiddle, trombone and clarinet interwoven with his guitar. The only non-period touch is Jerry’s doubled lead vocal. Here’s my transcription of the head.
Jerry had eclectic tastes, and early jazz was one of his many musical interests. Maybe that’s because his dad was a jazz musician, and because Jerry himself was named after Jerome Kern. I learned from the Grateful Dead Family Discography that he got the idea to play “Russian Lullaby” from a recording by the Argentinian guitarist Oscar Alemán. Alemán was a friend of Django Reinhardt, and you can tell.
Jazz musicians play “Russian Lullaby” very differently from the way Irving Berlin originally conceived it. For one thing, he wrote it as a waltz, and for another thing, it begins with a schmaltzy verse.
Ella Fitzgerald is the rare jazz artist who sings the tune in its original waltz time.
The earliest recording in 4/4 that I can find is Benny Goodman’s excellent 1938 arrangement.
John Coltrane recorded “Russian Lullaby” at a blisteringly fast tempo on his album Soultrane. When the session producer asked the tune’s name, he responded, “Rushin’ Lullaby”. It’s nice to know that even Coltrane was not above a terrible dad joke.
I like Errol Garner’s recording too, with its quasi-mambo feel.
Here’s an old-timey performance by Emmet Cohen, with Evan Christopher slaying on clarinet.
When I was in college, I didn’t have this kind of effortless access to discographical resources, so I only knew Jerry’s version. It was exciting for me when he put it on the Garcia/Grisman album, seventeen years after his first recording. Here’s a live Garcia/Grisman performance.
It’s always fun to watch Jerry play, but it’s especially instructive to watch him side-by-side with David Grisman, because their styles are so different. Grisman is a crisp and precise player, and he is intentional about every note, even when he’s playing doubletime. He sounds reliably good, but because he doesn’t take risks, his playing can feel stiff and corny. Jerry takes nothing but risks. He launches himself from the chord tones into wild bends and runs without any certainty about where he’s going to end up. Sometimes he lands on his feet, sometimes he doesn’t. His phrases often spill past the barlines, because he needs more notes to get to a resolution than he has time to play. He hits a lot of harmonic clams, too. But it’s an exciting adventure the whole time, and if Jerry’s reach sometimes exceeds his grasp, who cares, what a reach! I recognize that Deadheads can be the most annoying people in the world, but there’s a reason for their devotion, and it isn’t drugs.
Jerry is definitely not a jazz player, he’s a modal rock and blues player. He treats each chord as a tonic, and while he is inventive within the chords, he doesn’t phrase across them. He knows where the chord tones are, but he doesn’t connect them with the kind of linear inevitability that a good jazz player does. He swings like a blues or country player, not like a jazz player. Every jazz musician in the videos linked above is “better” than Jerry. And yet, Jerry’s approach to tunes like this connects with me, and to a lot of people. I like his interpretation of the “Russian Lullaby” melody better than anyone else’s. Maybe he doesn’t sing it all that well, but you can hear what he’s going for, and his melodic logic is impeccable.
Much as I love Jerry, this tune’s appeal is more about the tune itself. What is so special about it? I like its uneven harmonic rhythm. Sometimes the chords change every two beats, and sometimes they change every two bars. The melody has lots of empty space between the phrases, which allows you wide flexibility in your interpretation. And I always love a sad song that swings.
I loved “Russian Lullaby” as a college kid so much that I insisted that my first band play it, even though it was well beyond our ability level. The one show where we really did it justice was a miniature folk festival I put together for Marsh Arts House. Our friend Harris Wulfson, the best musician we knew, sat in on electric mandolin. He had a flawless Tiny Moore western swing sound, and his solo on “Russian Lullaby” was the high point of the night. We lost Harris young, only about ten years after that night, and it really hurt. Still does. He has a bench in Prospect Park that I walk past a lot. Miss you Harris.
My older stepbrother Kenny is an ace guitarist and a devoted congregant of the Church of Jerry. The last time he came over, we played some Dead (and Dead-related) tunes together, including “Russian Lullaby”. Neither of us really knew it, and it took some groping around until we found the changes. Kenny has never transcribed a Jerry solo, but he knows the sound in his bones, and he found some of those characteristic lead riffs immediately. It was a good time. I haven’t done as much of this as I would like in my life. Say what you want about the Dead, but they provided us with a useful body of tunes for playing together on the guitar and related instruments, one that supports improvisation and different levels of playing ability. That’s about as good a service to humanity as you could ask for.