The Blogs: A Brief History of the Nigun

Perhaps one of the most well-known, yet least understood schools of music in all of Judaism is the deceitfully simplistic nigun. These wordless tunes have been chanted throughout generations. It is the soundtrack of our people. But where did the nigun come from, how has it evolved, and what role does it play in modern Judaism? These may seem like unanswerable questions, but I, America’s Rebbitzman, have put in the time and research to answer them all.

With something so simple as a song without lyrics, one might assume that the nigun predates all other liturgy, but you’d be wrong, DEAD wrong. The story of the nigun started over five hundred years ago in the Yeshiva of Bratislava, by a less-than-apt pupil named Shmini Ben Yoseph.

Every morning during shacharit, he was surrounded by people praying so fast and accurately that he had no hope of keeping up. While his peers shuffled back and forth with the spirit of prayer, Shmini would shuffle in anxiety. To help hide his ignorance, Shmini would just mumble as he shuffled, “Oy yoy oy yoy oy oy yoy vey.”

One day after mincha, his friend Lev asked him about his bizarre prayers. Shmini confessed everything. But rather than being ridiculed for his actions, word spread of what he was doing, and like wildfire, this proto-nigun infiltrated the yeshivot of Europe. Whenever a yeshiva bocher had a late night at a hora rave or got lost in a debate over whether a French braided Havdalah candle was kosher, only to find themselves in shape to recite Modeh Ani the next morning, they would instead mumble Shmini’s tune; “Oy yoy oy yoy oy oy yoy vey.”

By the end of the 1500’s, there would be over 3000 different niguns on record. In that time, it transformed from a “bent-over” cure used by overly extracurricular rabbinical students into the legitimate meditative prayer we all know and love today.

Below, we will look at some of the most popular niguns throughout Jewish history and break down their meaning and evolution.

1617 — The Nigun of Szeged:

Considered by many to be one of the earliest examples of the use of “deedle,” this nigun was the pop sensation of its time. The full nigun as I am sure you will recognize, is:

Deedle deidle do deidle do deidle do

Doodle deedle die, deidle die, deidle die

Deedle deidle doodle do doodle do

Prior to the Szeged nigun, the very thought of using “deedle” would have been considered an excommunicatory offense. The fact that this addition was not only allowed but thrived is a telling look at how the times were changing. Many believe that the reason “deedle” was embraced was because it so closely followed the Barely Famine of 1616. People were looking for a way to really let loose and celebrate the long-awaited return of kasha and varnishkas to the Shabbos table. Whatever the reason, in 1617, “deedle” made its way onto the public bima and never looked back.

1829 — The Nigun of Bruges:

The Nigun of Bruges is notable because it took the hectic, almost antiestablishment nature of The Nigun of Szeged and brought it back to a place of musical and liturgical order. By this time, “deedle” had become so commonplace that it was a cliché. This point was made all too clear when looking at the disaster that was Moshe’s Nigun, a twenty-minute chanting of “deedle” over and over. Historians agree that Moshe’s Nigun contains “the worst lyrics never written.”

This is why the Nigun of Bruges is so important; it creates order from chaos, a beauty from the common. While Moshe’s Nigun risked ending the nigun entirely, the Nigun of Bruges rescued it from becoming a footnote in a future sermon. Just read below and see how this complex simplicity kept the nigun as an integral part of Judaism:

Die die deedle die deedle do deedle do

Die deedle do deedel do deedle doo

Die die deedle die deedle do deedle do

Die die deedle die deedle do deedle do 1972 — The Nigun of Cincinnati:

The Niggun of Cincinnati was perhaps the most important reflection of the changing times in the history of Judaism. Cincinnati’s impact would be permanent. In the shadows of the first female rabbi ordination and following the turbulent social restructuring of America in the 1960s, the role of women within and outside the synagogue was drastically and positively changing. It was only natural for that to be reflected in nigun form. This new form of the nigun brought with it the stinging wit of the popular folk rock movement of the time. It was in the youth lounge in the basement of Temple Beth El Tikva Emmanuel Sinai in Cincinnati that everything changed. For the first time in a nigun, “yidiedie” was chanted!

This stark contrast to the deedles and the doydles of past niguns was a direct swipe at the patriarchal history of Jewish leadership. This bold choice drew a line in the sand, as if saying, “Our time has arrived!” In its day, you would be hard-pressed not to see the wincing face of a male Rabbi upon hearing this nigun. They knew the “times were a’changing” and they couldn’t stop that progress. The nigun of Cincinnati will forever be seen as a turning point in not only nigunim but Judaism itself. Sing for yourself and feel that powerful rebellion:

Yidiedie die dee deedle die Yidiedie die dee deedle do yidiedie die yidiedie die yideidei die deedle do

2026 — The Nigun of America’s Rebbitzman or Nigun Roboto:

What makes the nigun such a beautiful and powerful meditation of Judaism is its ability to turn something meaningless into something meaningful. A nigun can transform a collection of letters with no previous value, purpose, or impact into a sound that brings together the totality of Jewish spiritualism and peoplehood. It is, in every sense, magical.

At the same time, songwriting is hard, and as America’s Rebbitzman, I don’t lack the vocabulary to write one on my own. To help, I turned to a digital gabbi, ChatGPT. While I don’t trust such tech to write actual words, I felt safe in relying on it to not write words. Alas, that sweet, simply complex nigun proved too tough a task for even AI, as you will see below. But who am I to stop the flow of 500 years of progress?

I give you the Nigun of the Rebbitzman AKA Nigun Roboto: