With 82,000 tunes in the Skiptune database, there are more than one-and-a-half different names for every tune on average. One might expect some tunes have two names, especially if one name is formal and one is informal. For instance, our national anthem goes by “The Star-Spangled Banner” as well as the “U.S. National Anthem”. But many songs have only one name: The Beatles’s song, “She Loves You” is not known by any other name. We get over two names per song on average because thousands of songs have been recycled over the years, decades, and even centuries, accumulating names as they get passed along.
Over Time
Hymns gather more names over the centuries than any other common genre — on average over four names per hymn. Some hymn melodies, such as Hymn to Joy, based on Beethoven’s Ode to Joy, are assigned different texts (lyrics) purely based on the tune’s universal popularity. Hymn to Joy is known by 28 different titles, even though it was written relatively “recently” in 1824. On the other hand, a hymn like the Tallis Canon, written in 1561, is not nearly as well known among the general public as Ode to Joy, but has nonetheless collected 32 different names by being a versatile tune that has been around for 4-1/2 centuries.
Local Pride
Competition, local pride, and even geography play a roll in why some tunes have many names–especially folk tunes. A village musician may create a nice tune, name it after his town, and play it locally. A nearby town may hear the tune and like it, but dislike the town it was named after; and in the age before copyright law, that town’s musician may appropriate the tune and gives it a new name. Or a tune may be named after a recent battle where many loved ones died. Three generations later, the sting of those deaths and that battle have faded and the name of the battle no longer carries meaning, so the name is changed to something more relevant in that day. In that fashion, tunes can acquire multiple names over the centuries.
Irish folk tunes provide a good example of cultural changes to a tune’s name. On average, Irish tunes have nearly four names per tune (3.6 is the figure). For instance, Billy Byrne of Ballymanus is an Irish folk tune about rebel leader Billy Byrne and his role in an late-18th century rebellion. Over time, the tune was called Bill Byrne’s Lament. But the song was appropriated at some point and called Ormond’s Lament, probably for the Duke of Ormond whose castle was far south of County Wicklow where Billy Byrne was from. Then apparently another anonymous musician renamed the tune County of Mayo after a county that’s on the other side of Ireland from Ballymanus. Finally, the tune was renamed Lament for Thomas Flavell, apparently a local hero in County Mayo.
Misunderstandings
One can only be amused by how new names are created by someone simple misunderstanding the original name. A good example is the Celtic song Eileen Aroon, the origins of which are shrouded in mystery and probably pre-date modern musical notation. As the popular tune spread, it gathered many other names that were clearly best guesses as to what the listeners heard regarding the tune’s name. In addition to Eileen Aroon, this tune goes by Aileen Aroon, Eiblin A Run, Eibhlin a Ruin, Allen A’Roon, and Ellin a Roon. Misspelling abound in many names that have been around for centuries, and if they are repeated enough, they become known by the misspelled name and in some sense legitimized. The Skiptune database captures as many of these misspellings and mis-heard names as possible as a byproduct of documenting the world’s melodies. Another example is this series of names, all referring to the same tune written in the early 1700s: Bob Shear in Harvest, Rob Shear in Harvest, Rob Shear Harvest, Rob Sheer in Harvest , Bob Shear Harvest, Mock the Soldier’s Lady, Rob Shear’d in Her’st, and Robin Shore in Harst.
Language
There are two reasons for multiple names involving languages: Different languages and etymology. Most songs are known by the native tongue of the composer and if the song never leaves that country, the name may not acquire a name in another language. But many songs do leave their native countries and if they become popular enough, they get translated and given a new name in another country. One example almost everyone knows is Frere Jocques (French) and Brother John (English), but there are thousands of additional songs that have crossed borders and adopted new identities.
Some names change just because words themselves change, even within a language. The Cobler’s Jigg, a country dance written in England in 1622, eventually became The Cobbler’s Jig. Because people writing music programs often use the old spellings to sound quaint, we have tried to capture as many of these alternate spellings as possible. Some words completely lose earlier meanings and to today’s ears sounds strange in a musical context. Our favorite example is Lord Byron’s Maggot, which decidedly does not mean a song about Lord Byron’s pet maggot. In the 1600s, one of the meanings of “maggot” was a whimsical idea, and when applied to music meant an impromptu melody or song. So Lord Byron’s Maggot was simply a little fanciful tune associated with Lord Byron. We might call such a tune a “ditty” today.