It’s one of those classical melodies everyone is familiar with even if they can’t name it.

“An der schönen blauen Donau” (“On the Beautiful Blue Danube”) was written by Johann Strauss II in 1866. Its recognizability over a century later is thanks probably in large part to “2001: A Space Odyssey” (1968) and parodies on “The Simpsons” and elsewhere.

In 2013 I worked up an abbreviated rock instrumental arrangement of Danube for Daniel hales, and the frost heaves. We provided a live soundtrack for a theater production of “Alice in Wonderland.” The director wanted Danube to accompany a scene where the characters play flamingo croquet in slow motion.

Danube would appear to have nothing to do with Wonderland — which is why the Frost Heaves excluded it when we recorded our Lewis Carroll poem adaptations for an album called “Contrariwise.” But in fact we were not the first to make a connection between the two works.

Donovan kicks off his meandering treatment of “The Walrus and the Carpenter” (1971) with a not-quite-right excerpt on organ and calliope. And the music folks at Disney in 1947 demoed a version of “Beautiful Soup” set to the Danube melody. The Mock Turtle and his greenish broth never made it into the film, however, and we only know of his song today thanks to the DVD extras.

The version presented here sticks close to my 2013 adaptation, which covers just the first 76 bars of a 420-bar composition. Except now I’ve given the melody to the bass, in the tradition of the other fuzzy interpretations I’ve been recording lately. Daniel Hales returns as accompanist, but switches his guitar for a ukulele to counterbalance the low-end lead.

We’ve altered the title in tribute to the Frost Heaves’ home base, Greenfield, which got its name from a tributary of a certain tinge, and which was incorporated on this day in 1753.

I never delved too deep into classical music. Probably because one of the first classical CDs I ever picked up was Eugene Ormandy and the Philadelphia Orchestra playing Debussy. Try and top that!

My favorite piece of the bunch was also the shortest: “Tarantelle Styrienne” (a tarantella dance in 6/8 time named for the Styria region of Austria). It’s also known by the title “Danse.”

Achille Claude Debussy (born outside Paris on this day in 1862) wrote the piece for piano at age 28. Check out Zoltan Kocsis playing it in 1998 — way too fast, in the opinion of some YouTube commenters. Maurice Ravel arranged it for orchestra in 1922, and the Ormandy version was recorded in 1959.

Add to the vaunted list of interpreters me, who, at some point after developing similar treatments for music from “Star Wars” and “Star Trek,” decided to do a fuzz bass rendition of “Danse.”

What drew me to Debussy was his lush harmonies, which sometimes seem to prefigure Duke Ellington. To strip all that richness down to a monophonic bass solo may seem counterintuitive. But harmony is only in service of melody, of which “Danse” has enough for weeks. It’s sick riff after sick riff after sick riff.

The point of fuzz bass is to be in your face, loud and snarling. But as I’ve experimented with the medium over the last couple years, I’ve found plenty of dynamic range. Plucked very, very softly, the flatwound strings of my P-Bass bring out of my ICBM pedal a soothing sinewave. Meanwhile artificial harmonics, picking close to the bridge, plucking over the fretboard, and sliding up and down strings with a thumb knuckle contribute to a variety of tone color approaching, if not an orchestra, then certainly a piano.

Although I work at it daily, reading notes on a page is a massive chore for me. My preferred method for learning any new piece of music has always been to pick it out by ear, memorizing in the process. That’s mostly how I learned “Danse,” turning to the score in a couple of places where it was hard to discern the right note or boil down a dense chord. The piece was written in the key of E, but I’ve moved it down a half step to take advantage of open strings in a couple places.

I started learning the piece at the end of January. It wasn’t long before it was all there in my head, but it’s taken all these months to get my fingers to do what I wanted them too. They still don’t cooperate 100% of the time, but this video represents my best effort of many, many attempts over a couple of weekends. A conservatory-trained professional I am not, but I can still have fun imagining Carnegie Hall in my basement.