Cover: Charles Bradley, "Stay Away"

Charles Bradley spent years as a James Brown impersonator ("Black Velvet,") toiling in obscurity before being discovered in Brooklyn and signed to the Daptone label, who are bringing the Stax sound into the 21st century. He released his first album in 2011 at age 63. Dude's got some pipes. But the last thing I would have expected to see included on his debut album was a cover of a comparatively obscure Nirvana song.

I mean, look at the clash of styles. The other cover he chose for this set was the lyrically straightforward and directly sentimental "Heart of Gold" by Neil Young. Great tune, and the combo makes a ton of sense. But by imbuing Kurt's free-associated, oblique and angsty lyrics with a blaxploitation groove lends it an added level of danger, a certain mystique -- not that Nirvana's music is lacking danger and mystery. Her, it drones and echoes out: Stay / Stay away! Instead of a petulant "get back," is becomes a real serious warning. I don't know where the idea for this came from, but it is right.

Cover: Kings of Leon, "Dancing On My Own"

The King of Leon are not really on my radar. I say that because they are a band that people get really upset about, for whatever reason, I guess because they have a bunch of hits, and those hits I guess don't sound a lot like their early stuff, and yadda yadda you know that same old song and dance. I never found them offensive enough to get upset about, and wasn't wowed by them enough to defend them.

But this. This.

It's a known fact that I happen to think Robyn's "Dancing On My Own" is one of the great beautiful dance anthems of our time, and I was hitting that drum way back at the beginning of this blog, and this cover does exactly what a great cover ought to do and wrenches every essential bit of goodness out of that original, and then filters it through the new band. This is some amazing shit. I wish they had gone a bit bigger, (they are an arena rock band, after all) but it's still rad as all hell.

Cover: Natalie Maines, "Mother"

Until a few weeks ago I never thought much about Natalie Maines. Then for whatever reason I read an article a while back about how it had been a decade since her infamous "We're ashamed of George W. Bush" comment. Criticizing a Republican sitting President is a pretty ballsy thing to do when you're a country singer. It's one thing for Ted Nugent to talk about wanting to murder Barack Obama and Hilary Clinton, or for Green Day to release American Idiot, but Natalie quite simply bit the hand that feeds. It was a potential career killer, and even though their next album went multi-platinum, nobody seemed to wonder too hard when they went on hiatus. Politics in the United States have become even more radicalized, if that was possible, two of the Chicks became Court Yard Hounds (from what I can tell, far removed from pot-stirring statements like "Not Ready to Make Nice.") And Maines seemed to disappear altogether, only resurfacing now with a workable album of covers with Ben Harper. She has a good ear, picking mostly obscure tunes, including one from the venerable Dan Wilson, and doing a fine, fine job with Jeff Buckley's "Lover, You Should Have Come Over." But it's the title track, the Pink Floyd cover, that will get the attention.

Maines' situation does indeed resemble that of Roger Waters' Pink character from The Wall. Having violated the unspoken contract between the performer and audience, the singer becomes isolated, searching, seeking the comfort of the womb and building the wall. Natalie sings it more beautifully than Waters could (not hard,) warming up the detachment and really hammering the spirit of the song home. This cover, this album, is a great statement of self, a release from the cocoon of former country divadom and into the world of mature adult mainstream rock - the cathartic breaking down of the wall. People should hear it.

Cover: Ronnie Hawkins & The Hawks, "Hey Bo Diddley"

Back when The Band was still The Hawks, they backed Ronnie Hawkins on this cover of Bo Diddley's original, which takes elements from both "Bo Diddley" (which is based on the "Hush Little Baby" lullaby) and "Hey! Bo Diddley" (which is based on Old Macdonald.) The thing that bites me is that growing up, I only knew this version from the oldies radio station, and assumed it was Bo's original. So until tonight I was mad trying to find the version with this exact phrasing.

I came to think of it because I was listening to "Hare Krishna" by Husker Du, and I thought "Hey, they're doing a goof on 'I Want Candy!' Wait, 'I Want Candy' is just a Bo Diddley beat! Oh yeah, like a million songs have that beat in them!" It's a great, timeless rhythm that keeps getting used in rock music (though you don't hear it much anymore) because it's solid and propulsive but also sinewy and suggestive. "Bah-bah-bah---a-bah-bah." Check out this quote from Wikipedia about its prevalence:

“Other songs employing the Bo Diddley beat include “(Marie’s the Name) His Latest Flame” (1961) by Elvis Presley, “I Want Candy” by The Strangeloves, “1969” (1969) by The Stooges, “Panic in Detroit” (1973) by David Bowie, “Mr. Brownstone” (1987) by Guns N’ Roses, “Hari Krsna” (lyrics are even sung to the tune of ‘Hey Bo Diddley’) by Hüsker Dü from their album Zen Arcade, “Faith (1987) by George Michael, “Desire” (1988) by U2, “Boa-Diddley” (1990) by Phillip Boa and the Voodooclub, “Movin’ on Up” (1991) by Primal Scream, “Woodcutter’s Son” (1995) by Paul Weller, and “Screwdriver” (1999) by The White Stripes.[50] Other examples include “Magic Bus” by The Who, “Rudie Can’t Fail” by The Clash, “Get Me to the World on Time” by The Electric Prunes, and “Party at the Leper Colony” by “Weird Al” Yankovic.[51] Some of the more subtle uses of the Biddley beat include “Hateful” (1979) by The Clash and “How Soon Is Now?” (1985) by The Smiths.”

Cover: Philosopher Kings, "Cry"

I think the Philosopher Kings' take on Godley & Creme's tune is one of those cases where the cover severely outdoes the original. The first version is a good song, haunting and hurtful in its way, but Jarvis Church's 90s band pumps it up into a danceable bit of soulful pain. They wring out hooks that are only slightly in the original and help it reach its full potential.

Cover: Bettye Lavette, "Crazy" & "All My Love"

Speaking of Gnarls Barkley, soul singer Bettye Lavette takes their hit "Crazy" to new places by stripping down its production to a slinky nightclub number and really wrenching the vocal phrasing as wide open as she can. The result is quite fantastic. It goes from being a piece of unstoppable momentum, to one where you just hang on every word.



The last few years have seen Lavette on a tear, making up for lost time (look her up on Wikipedia.) One of the best examples of her power is what she does to "All My Love," probably the most-maligned song in the Led Zeppelin songbook. By transforming the tense synth they used on their recording with a much broader piano stroke, she lets the emotion pour into it, and while the song doesn't sound as mournful as it was originally recorded, it also doesn't sound as cold and cut off. Staggering.

Cover: Gnarls Barkley, "Gone Daddy Gone"

Before Cee-Lo was that guy on the Voice with the "Fuck You" song, he was of course part of Gnarls Barkley, who had a hit with "Crazy." Also on their debut album St. Elsewhere was this cover of Violent Femmes' "Gone Daddy Gone." The ragged, nervy College Rock production is cleaned up and made a bit sinister with its charging bass and Cee-Lo's vocals, and the xylophone effect (held over from the original) adds to that tension. A great instance of a cover not changing the form, but still managing to put their stamp on a cover.

Cover: Otis Redding, "(I Can't Get No) Satisfaction"

As originally rendered by the Rolling Stones, "Satisfaction" is the ideal rock song: the relationship between Keith Richards' opening riff and Mick Jagger's chorus is the idealized singer-guitarist relationship in rock music. They are symbiotic.

With the guitars transformed to horns on Otis Redding's version, the weight shifts a lot further in the direction of the singer, which is what marks the soul version against the rock version. On an Otis Redding record, your only job is to make sure Otis comes through loud and clear, not that he needs too much help. The horns are more of an accent, to bounce the song along as he bebops and scats his way through the end of the song.

The Beatles: Long Tall Sally EP

Between With The Beatles and A Hard Day's Night, the Beatles released the Long Tall Sally EP, featuring three covers and one original not released anywhere else in the Beatles discography (now available only on the Past Masters discs.) The title track, a Little Richard classic, is one of the great covers of the whole Beatles canon, up there with "Twist & Shout" and "Money (That's What I Want.)" A Larry Williams cover, "Slow Down" is no slouch either, and "Matchbox," originally by Carl Perkins, helps Ringo's transition from screamers like "Boys" and "I Wanna Be Your Man" through rockabilly and boogie-woogie, which ended up in sprightly tunes like "Yellow Submarine" and "Octopus's Garden." Not that there's anything wrong with that. This is just the first time his distinctive tone was heard clear.



But for me, the highlight is "I Call Your Name," an early peek at the songwriting growth between With The Beatles and A Hard Day's Night. Lyrically, this is one of John's best, and while it's upbeat, it has this measured exasperation to the phrasing "I can't sleep at night - but just the same - I never weep at night - I call your name!" And the band sounds so good, with the unsympathetic percussion and tangled guitars.

Cover: Harvey Danger, "Save It For Later"

The late 90's made a habit of revising the hits of the 80's, in a way few decades have ever been revisited. Things changed so much between 1989 and 1999 in popular music that a band could really get a lot of mileage out of picking any radio hit from that decade and giving it an updated treatment, stripping it of the trappings of its time and unlocking a more timeless element. This goes hand in hand with a plethora of late-90's movies that took place in, or otherwise referenced, the 80's, such as 200 Cigarettes, itself a pretty underrated film.

Harvey Danger does an excellent with The (English) Beat's "Save It For Later," replacing the 80's horns with strings, and replacing Dave Wakeling's very 80's vocals with Sean Nelson's very 90's ones. The strings actually work well to contrast with the upbeat poppy nature of the song, but not dragging it down. Love this version.

And hey, here's a bonus, extra-intimate version from Pete Townshend, who takes the song into anthemic territory (as he is wont to do.)

Cover: Cake, "War Pigs"

It would be kind of a useless statement to point out that Black Sabbath and Cake are very different musical entities. Cake is in a realm of their own, which partly the fun of watching them do covers. The bring disparate influences like Gloria Gaynor, Frank Sinatra, and here Ozzy & Co, to their slacker alt rock BBQ.

It's no surprise to me that this works. When you're a band like Cake, who really knows their style, you can transform almost anything to fit your needs. "War Pigs" is an early metal cut from before the genre had really reached the limit of its tropes, so it has a debt to earlier forms of hard rock and heavy blues. It's that lineage that Cake is able to bring out of it and exploit. And just like Ozzy always seems a little dead, John McCrae always sounds a little tired, so the adaptation works.

Cover: CAKE, "I Will Survive"

Some cover versions almost go to the point of parody, just by mismatching the original with the cover artist's style. Sometimes it works to undercut (or strengthen) the original's meaning, and sometimes it's just a fun experiment. And so we get the sardonic, laid-back yet deliberate funk of CAKE doing its take on Gloria Gaynor's impassioned disco anthem. A while back it occurred to me that vocalist John McCrae is the musical equivalent of H. Jon Benjamin, getting maximum mileage out of a very specific way of performing. Something feels so right about doing this song this way. It probably couldn't have been any other disco hit.

Cover: KoRn, "Another Brick in the Wall" & "Word Up"

Far be it from me to defend anything KoRn ever did. It certainly wouldn't be controversial to slam this cover. It goes about as well as you'd expect Korn covering Pink Floyd to. The angsty metal rasp of Jonathan Davis, the phat bass and churning guitars, the... surprisingly effective rhythm, and a faithful, if by-the-book, reproduction of David Gilmour's solo. Hm, maybe my expectations had better be altered. This wasn't going to convert anyone into a KoRn fan, especially if they were a Pink Floyd fan, but after all, it was a bonus track for their Greatest Hits album so if you heard this you already liked them. And surprisingly, what KoRn does bring to the song services it well. They play all three parts together - music geeks know only the middle part was released as a single, so parts 1 and 3 are often forgotten (and separated by the other material that comprised the Wall concept album.) They play pretty well here, fairly cohesive without the conceptual business (ie the famous "If you don't eat your meat" dialogue) without losing the song's meaning of all the anxieties of a singer's upbringing into an isolated rock star (eg: the bricks in the wall.) And the band shows its usually-forgotten skill with funk (they did do the whole "rap metal" thing) as this song was modeled after then-current disco hits.



Surprisingly more effective is their take on the late-80's hip hop number "Word Up." Again, they bring the metal but show great skill with the funk. Davis sounds like he's having more fun with this one, but it retains a sort of ominous flavour. I like songs that are ostensibly "good time" music but with weight and melodrama pumped up. While I could take or leave the Pink Floyd, I genuinely think this song is one of the best things KoRn recorded... which is a fair statement, again, depending what you think of KoRn.

Cover: Neutral Milk Hotel, "I Love How You Love Me"

Cleaning off my desk, I found a note written from a former co-worker with this song written on it. The original was one of the early instances of Phil Spector's wall of sound production. I'm posting it not just because I think it's good music, but because it reminds me of the feeling of sharing music with people, discussing it and finding someone something they've never heard before. My hope is always that I've done that for most of the people reading this blog at some point.

Cover: Vanilla Fudge, "You Keep Me Hangin' On"

I do love the Supremes' original, a Motown classic with its skittering funk riff and the breakneck pace cut by Diana Ross and the girls. But something about this take on the song just works for me, from the towering, gargantuan organ and guitar crush, to the way Vanilla Fudge vocalist wrenches every drop of sweat out of the song that he can, blowing it all to the stratosphere.

Serious Contenders: Soft Cell, "Tainted Love"

"Tainted Love," as recorded by Soft Cell (a cover of Gloria Jones' 1964 original) is one of those great examples of a song you forget is great until you're listening to it. It's very 80's, but in the best way: the chilly, pulsing synth background underscoring how "tainted" the love is, while the "new romantic"-style vocals go from detached to soulful, with a ghostly rendition of the original's Motown type (actually, Champion,) backing chorus.

Cover: Cuff the Duke, "The Suburbs"

I love Arcade Fire, and I feel like their music lends itself particularly well to interpretation. They do a great job creating total packages with their music, but the songs often lend themselves to reinterpretation, so another band can puts its stamp on there.

On the surface, this isn't all that different from the original, but it seems much homier, more Earthbound than the original. Rather than the yearning for the world beyond the picket fence, of Win Butler's vocal, you get the sense of being stuck in place no matter what.

Cover: The Ramones, "Baby I Love You"

For whatever reason, I always find myself defending this Phil Spector-produced stab at Sixties pop from the Ramones, probably because I have a place in my heart for the utterly ridiculous, and I don't really care about "punk authenticity." There's something so goddamn ridiculous about Joey Ramone muttering, in his best doo wop voice, "Bay-beh Ah Luh Yew" while those awkward-ass violins hum in the background, it seems to illustrate a whole bunch of things at once: sometimes it's idiotic being in love, and sometimes you need to go with it. Really, though, the violins are the only thing keeping this song from being the same as the Ramones' earlier "I Wanna Be Your Boyfriend." So don't judge.

Cover: The Ramones, "Do You Wanna Dance?"

On that note, there's the Ramones, the band that brought simplicity back to rock, playing the simplest and most effective song of the early rock & roll era.

Cover: The Clash, "I Fought The Law"

I've mentioned before how punk rock, as initially presented by The Clash, was not all that different from classic 1950's rock and roll, in its straightforward execution. The main differences between earlier versions of this song was the fact that the Clash were louder about it, and they had Joe Strummer, the ultimate punk voice. They played this song with the benefit of two extra decades of knowledge on how to kick rock and roll ass, but also the wisdom to know that what worked about rock and roll way-back-when would still work in the 1970's, just like it does today.