ANOTHER MUSICAL MUSING, 22 September 2023: Chickens and Chick- Chick- Chickens!

Well friends and neighbors, it’s still September and—to my wonderment—I just learned that this is “National Chicken Month!”  Just the theme for another musical musing! Well, why not?  There are some fun old tunes out there to explore. Who knew?

Let’s start with one of the most often played old, old fiddle tunes: “Cluck Old Hen.”  Click or tap on the triangle in the next image or link for a lively ukulele/ clawhammer banjo rendition of this oldie.

Moving on, it is said that chicken, as well as onions, are part of nearly every ethnic cuisine—Kosher, Halal, Asian, Hispanic, as well as good old American Country. 

I remember those homey all-you-can-eat fried chicken restaurants in the Midwest,

beer can chicken on the grill,

and even a rare bucket from Colonel Sanders in my impecunious student days! 

My favorite treat, however, was my grandmother’s chicken and noodles served (how else?) over mashed potatoes—about 400 calories per forkful! 

But, oh so good!  But, alas, I digress .  .  .  

Now, to begin our journey through the musicological chicken yard, I would be remiss, however, not to point out a few potential pedagogical pitfalls of what some might call the teaching of  “critical musical theory.”  

For example, in my scholarly explorations on the web, there seem to be three major themes relative to today’s theme of “chicken music.”  First, of course, are sweet songs about the good old days of raising chickens back on the farm, and those simple but savory Sunday (or church basement) dishes served by our mothers and grandmothers. 

Then there are bouncy and (ever so slightly) bawdy tunes using the ubiquitous Tin Pan Alley slang of the day when “chick” and “chicken” referred to all those pretty young girls out there capturing the attention of a flirting “rooster” or two. 

Click (cluck?) or tap on the triangle in the next image for a listen to this one.

Alas, in the last but not least category, are all those songs of chicken chasing, eating, stealing, and whatnot tainted by the graphic and lyrical racial caricatures way too common at the time. 

That said, in this musing I’ll only focus on the first two categories and let the third remain buried in the depths of the internet.

Moving on, here are just a couple of sweet and homey “chicken” tunes: “The Chicken Reel” and “Cock-A-Doodle, I’m Off My Noodle.”  Click or tap on the triangles in the next couple of images or links to hear some good bowing, strumming, and singing on these two oldies.

So much for chickens in the coop or on the plate; now the bouncy, Tin Pan Alley stuff.  Here is a use of “chicken” slang that Eddie “Banjo Eyes” Cantor performed way back in the days of World War One. 

Click or tap on the triangle in the next image or link and listen carefully to the vaudevillian lyrics of “Would You Rather be a Colonel with an Eagle on Your Collar or a Private with a Chicken on Your Knee?  Whew!

Here’s another in this classical category.

Now, click or tap on the triangle in the next image or link for another of this genre with another convoluted title: “There’s a Trick in Pickin’ a Chick, Chick, Chicken,” another slangy Tin Pan Alley fox trot take on today’s theme.

Ah yes, one more in the cinematic “country comic” mode . . .

Click or tap on the next image or link to listen to an early movie version of this one!

And, probably one of the most bouncy chicken related tunes of the swing era!

If your brain isn’t, um, fried, you can click or tap on the next image or link for for the wind up. Anyone out there remember this one?

And, let’s not forget the poultrified banjo ukuleles out there!

So, remember the theme of the month and, hopefully, have a taste soon  of healthy skinless broiled chicken or deep-fat fried extra crispy—your choice! 

Now it’s time to dance your way to the chicken dinner table. Click or tap on the triangle in the next image to learn how. (Sorry in advance for this one!)

and, of course, STAY TUNED! And listen to the chick, chick, chicken . . .  

Or, an alternate opinion . . .