One of the pleasures of music is how different musicians from a variety of genres can take a simple song and make it their own.

I’ve always loved the old chestnut Sittin’ on Top of the World in part because even a musician at my level can play it in different styles. For my retirement party at the National Trust, I joined the By-and-By Band for a spirited bluegrass rendition of the tune. After a kick-off by the banjo player, I jumped in to sing that great first verse, which has so much to say about heartbreak and promise.

Twas in the spring, one sunny day
My sweetheart left me, Lord, she went away
And now she’s gone and I don’t worry
Lord, I’m sittin’ on top of the world

For each successive verse, the first two lines differ, while the last two repeat that paradox of life: The person I love is gone yet I don’t worry, because I’m on top of the world.

If I remember the words (he says with a knowing smile), the following is usually my second verse, which comes before the first instrumental break.

Mississippi River, is deep and wide
My good gal left me on the other side
And now she’s gone . . .

Perhaps the first version I heard of the song was the fingerpicked rendition of my guitar hero, Doc Watson. Sittin’ on Top of the World was on Doc’s self-titled debut album, which was a revelation to fans and musicians alike.

Music critic Jim Smith wrote that Doc’s debut album was . . .

incredibly varied, from the stark, banjo-driven “Country Blues” to the humorous “Intoxicated Rat,” and many of these songs became Watson standards, especially his signature song “Black Mountain Rag.” His incredible flat-picking skills may have been what initially wowed his audiences, but it was Watson’s complete mastery of the folk idiom that assured his lasting popularity.

Doc — unlike other musicians who skipped over the tune’s writers — gave the credit to two members of the Mississippi Sheiks: Sam Chatmon and Walter Vinson.

The Shieks composed and performed the original of Sittin’ on Top of the World in the 1930s, taking the tune at a somewhat more languid pace compared to the faster bluegrass versions of later years.

And the early bluesmen got into the act as well, as with Howlin’ Wolf’s take.

As you can hear in just three different versions of the songs, there are a great many verses and performers sing them in all different orders.

Jimmy Martin may have been the bluegrass performer most associated with the song, recording it on Volume 2 of the Nitty Gritty Dirt Band’s Will the Circle Be Unbroken as well as on other albums. Besides Martin’s signature vocals, this version contains killer breaks by Vassar Clements on fiddle, Jerry Douglas on dobro, and Mark O’Connor on mandolin.

The next generation has taken on the song as well. Here’s a great live version from the Grey Fox Festival of Billy Strings and Molly Tuttle ripping through the tune with some incredible flatpicking along the way.

In many versions, including mine, these two verses are sung together. They both have a “well, you should have known what you were missing before you ran off” vibe that blends into a statement about why “I don’t worry.”

Don’t like my peaches, then don’t you shake my tree
Get out of my orchard, let my peaches be
And now she’s gone . . .

Don’t you come here runnin’, holdin’ out your hand
I’m gonna get me a woman like you got your man
And now she’s gone . . .

The Flatlanders — Jimmie Dale Gilmore, Joe Ely, and Butch Hancock — play a spirited Texas country-rock version of Sittin’ on Top of the World for their Austin City Limits performance. I’ve loved the Zen Cowboy and his compatriots ever since hearing them live in a 2009 performance with my long-time colleague Anthea in a New York City nightclub.

I like to end the song with these two verses. The first has the wandering lover calling up from El Paso with a wailing cry for redemption, followed by a repeat of the first verse that tidies it all up.

She called me up from down in El Paso
Said “Come back, daddy, ooh, I need you so”
And now she’s gone . .

Twas in the spring, one sunny day
My sweetheart left me, Lord, she went away
And now she’s gone and I don’t worry
Lord, I’m sittin’ on top of the world

Several years ago I heard Chris Smither sing his bluesy version of Sittin’ on Top of the World at the Red Wing roots music festival and it immediately became my favorite.

As one commentator noted, there is great fluidity in his fingers so that “it looks like he may not even be touching the strings.” Another hit the nail on the head as to why the Smither performance has such an impact. “Creativity, artistry: take an old standard, run it through your own interpretive filters and, voila! a great performance for us all, in the style of the old school.”

All of these artists are running this great tune through their own musical filters, and it just keeps working its magic.

Whatever has you down this Thanksgiving weekend, don’t worry . . . just go sit on top of the world.

More to come . . .

DJB

Photo of Claire Brown “on top of the world” in Thun, Switzerland.