Judging By Covers: Love and Respect for the Art of Playing Other People’s Songs

Someone (was it you?) once said to me that a good cover of a song either does the song differently or does it better than the original version.  While that isn’t really the whole conversation about covers, it’s a good way to start.  I spent an hour walking with “Sail Away: The Songs of Randy Newman” this morning, and many of the cuts on this record pass this simple test in one or even both respects.  To the “different or better” question, I would also add some other ideas to consider as one contemplates cover versions of songs: first, how a given song stands up to cover-age is a test of the song itself— if people can have engaging musical conversations with the song, bend it their own way, make it say something new, cast it in a different light, then it’s probably a good song in and of itself, whoever is playing it.  Most Randy Newman songs also pass with flying colors here.  Cover versions are also a kind of crucible or benchmark test for musicians—a successful or unsuccessful cover version can say a lot of different things about a performer.  Finally, I’d say that musicians’ decisions about what songs they cover and how they cover them constitutes a legitimate musical artistic vehicle and art form—whether or not those musicians write songs of their own— potentially giving “cover bands” every bit as much musical legitimacy as bands playing “original” material.  Indeed, as a musician who spends much of my own musical time as a player / performer covering songs of other people, I am hereby moved to offer a defense, nee a celebration, of the role of cover songs in this world which, post-Beatles /  Bob Dylan, places a distinctly higher value on musicians who write their own songs than those who cover other people’s songs.  As you read along bearing my modest musings in mind, I humbly ask you to sweep the corners of your brain for your own favorite covers and be ready to share when we’re done, boys and girls…

Tim O’Brien’s cover of “Sail Away” opens the Newman tribute.  O’Brien trades the lush orchestral sonic palette of Newman’s original rendering of the song for country fiddles, strummed guitar, pedal steel / slide, and mandolins— sonic elements more closely associate with the South than the orchestral palette or even the solo piano Newman has used to offer the song up when performing by himself.  The song— voicing in typically razor-sharp ironic Newman fashion the huckster perspective of a slave trader kidnapping Africans into slavery in the South—is, in many ways, brought home or made more authentic by these Southern sonic elements in O’Brien’s version, directly evoking the pastoral southern landscape the trader is trying to make sound appealing (the genius of Newman’s lyric is that it begs the question “does he believe his own line or is he trying to make it sound appealing to himself or to his victims to salve his conscience?”).  O’Brien’s cover, at first blush, doesn’t sound all that different than the original—the melody, tempo, and arrangement are all intact— but  upon further consideration of the sonic palette O’Brien uses, it might well be argued that it’s both different and better.  In any case, O’Brien’s cover certainly underscores the satirical power and beauty of Newman’s songcraft—a celebration of the song and songwriter, as well as the performer, and the art of both songwriting and covering all in one.  Nicely done, Tim, nicely done, indeed.

I really dislike Joan Baez records.  I find the singing generally shrieky and yet also somehow flat and lacking immediacy, and find the songs generally preachy and precious.  One of my favorite covers of all time, however, is of Judas Priest covering Baez’s “Diamonds and Rust,” and it’s great for many reasons, not the least of which is that it sifts the song from the muck of it’s original delivery.  Baez’s lyric portrays an ex-lover addressing her ex about why or how one shouldn’t stay lost in the past.  In her original version, the tone is pedantic, preachy, and lecturish, and also lacks a hook or chorus that digs into your flesh and can’t be shaken.  Baez’s singing (as ever) is shrill and lacks any real ferocity.  In the hands of the Priest, however, the song suddenly becomes something much more savage and appealing: Rob Halford’s narrator is snide and angry, the arrangement pulls a refrain from the lyric that is not in Baez’s original rendering—“we both know what memories can bring, they bring diamonds and rust”—that sticks in your head and gut, and the wailing guitar lines and thunderous chords running around and underneath the melody suddenly make the song a much more engaging and desperate piece of expression.  Different and better, hell yes and for sure, and it also does a great job of showing the song at its best, maybe even improving it.

Sometimes straight ahead cover versions illuminate performers in revealing ways.  The Black Crowes teamed up with Jimmy Page for a Zeppelin fest some years back.  “Live at the Greek” documents the adventure.  The Crowes being the unapologetic 70s hard rock throwbacks that they are, certainly no one was surprised that they found the opportunity to cover the Zeppelin songbook with Page himself irresistible, and the renderings of the classic Zeppelin catalog are all good, clean, straight ahead, live fun—certainly not different, and not really better, in all frankness, but a fun set to stroll through, just ‘cuz you know the Crowes were living out a dream.  The outing does provide a chance to compare the players involved head-to-head, and the results are revealing both from the Zeppelin side and the Crowes side: the Crowes’ Rich Robinson goes toe-to-toe, guitar-to-guitar with his Master and comes out ahead, laying down song-foundational guitar riffs and firing off bone rattling solos with much more facility and ferocity than the aging Page, who stumbles kinda lamely through his own songs.  Chris Robinson, however, doesn’t fare so well: I love ya’ Chris, I really do, but we can all hear, after listening to this, that you really are no Robert Plant.  The singing is forced and out of tune, and Robinson doesn’t have the technical or emotional range of his forebear.  Sorry dude.  The covers outed ya’ here.

Near the end of the Newman tribute, Marc Broussard offers up a reading of “You Can Leave Your Hat On” which is as delicious as it is straightforward.  Newman’s lyric narrates a sexual encounter which has been interpreted by performers and critics in various ways— from simple passion (Joe Cocker’s rendition) to sexual disorder or deviance (as articulated in various analyses offered up by critics and listeners of varying stripes).  Newman’s own rendering of the song is curiously neutral— certainly lustful, but yet not particularly passionate or malevolently lascivious.  Broussard’s version on the tribute album is really a deliciously straightforward r and b paean to hormonal infatuation.  From the funky bass and drum driving the tune, to the smoky lead and soulful backing vocals setting the scene, to the sleazy horns, the listener is in the room and feels what’s going on here— a narrator who is VERY pleased to be spending the evening with someone he is VERY fond of.  The song stands up to this and all of the varying interpretations and allows listeners and performers to bring their own lenses to what’s, uh, laid out.

Finally, I have played in “cover bands” for many years.  Yeah, I’ve written or co-written a few songs which aren’t half bad, but I ain’t no Bob Dylan and have no delusions about this fact.  However, I sure as hell know a great song when I hear one, and take pride in my ability (and in my bands’ abilities) to have a musical conversation with a great song—to recast it using different tempos, harmonic structures, instrumentations, and stylistic approaches, and also to respect its primary melodic, harmonic, and lyrical ideas.  Kurt Vonnegut once said that he wouldn’t mind being placed in the “Science Fiction” drawer if so many people didn’t mistake that drawer for a urinal, and I feel the same way about playing in “cover bands.”  My own bands have covered everything from the Stones’ “Sweet Virginia” to Monty Python’s “Universe Song” to Bobby Timmons’s “Dat Dere” to George Jones’s “The Race Is On” to the gospel standard “Wayfaring Stranger” to “Take Me Out to the Ballgame” and way the hell beyond. I have a particular version of “Amazing Grace,” recast in a minor key and narrated by an unconverted unbeliever that I’m mighty damn proud of, and I’ll wager that none of the renditions we have offered of any of these songs sound like any other renditions you’ve heard and also will wager that most of them will knock your bloody socks off.  I think the songbook we’ve amassed—I can and will play any of these tunes for you on command—is a pretty wonderful thing to listen to, defines a really clear musical aesthetic, and says a lot about me and my compadres as musicians.  I also bet almost any other musician you’d wanna hear could lay out dozens of covers which would render you, dear listener, speechless and which would also lend you powerful insight into that musician’s musical heritage and passions and would probably also inspire you to check out some things you’ve never listened to.

Covers are an unheralded but powerful and joyous rock and roll tradition.  They provide glorious conversations with familiar and great songs, illuminate songs and performers in important, meaningful and revealing ways, and constitute an art form in and of themselves.  Go hear the cover band opening for the big national act at the bar down the street this weekend, and holler at that Big Act for them to do a cover or two while you’re at it.  Here are a few more of my own favorite covers:

·       Devo’s version of “Satisfaction” by the Rolling Stones (on “Are We Not Men?”)
·       Uncle Tupelo’s version of “No Depression” by A.P., Hardy (on “No Depression”—heck,
      this one touched off the whole “alt-country” movement)
·       Linda Ronstadt’s version of Lowell George’s “Willin’” (on “Heart Like a Wheel”)
·       Nirvana’s version of Leadbelly’s “Where Did You Sleep Last Night?” (on “Unplugged”)
·       Jane’s Addiction’s version of “Rock and Roll” by Lou Reed (on “Jane’s Addiction,”
      their first record which, interestingly, is a live one)
·       Two classical cellists version of “Thunderstruck” by AC/DC (I swear to god, this link
      just came through as I was writing this blog entry and it is CRAZY:
      http://www.ebaumsworld.com/video/watch/83896505/ )
What are some of yours?