Some Songs Considered - Posts Tagged 'cover song

February 20, 2010

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“Love Buzz” – Shocking Blue
(Words/music: Robbie van Leeuwen, available on At Home, Pink Elephant 1969)

If I may go out on a limb to begin, most people would know Shocking Blue for their song “Venus,” a number one single in 1969 and a staple of TV commercials in recent years. Admittedly, I knew the song but not the band for the longest time. I say this because I knew song “Love Buzz” for years before I ever heard of the band. “Love Buzz” was the A-side to the first Nirvana single in 1988, the first in the Sub Pop Singles’ Club series that helped fund the label during lean years. A decade later, “Love Buzz” was among the Nirvana songs I extracted from CDs for use in mix tapes. I loved the agile bass line underneath the wall of distortion. In particular, I loved “Love Buzz” because it was one of the popier songs on Bleach (an album I never fully loved the way I loved the band’s later output). Of course, this was still “pop” run through a distortion pedal, sung with a slightly deranged vocal tone. In short, this was pop that I could co-sign at fifteen.

So at some point (one of the unsung tragedies of the digital era is that acquiring albums don’t leave imprints as much), I heard the original “Love Buzz.” I knew it was a cover, but some of the more high profile Nirvana covers (The Man Who Sold the World was the first Bowie album I owned). I knew that Kurt Cobain (born today) loved some offbeat pop songs, but “Love Buzz” still took me by surprise. Despite adding a far more aggressive guitar tone, Nirvana streamlined the song somewhat. The original version moves at a slower, deliberate pace with Mariska Veres’ deep vocals flanked by a sitar. If the Nirvana song churned along at the same pace as much of their early material, Shocking Blue’s version sounds eerier at its slower tempo. Then, there’s a double-time section where the drums, measured and restrained to this point, pound away. The whole thing, whether it’s Veres’ tone or the sitar or just all the open space, sounds slightly creepy yet still entrancing. I understand why Cobain was fascinated with a song like this.

More on Shocking Blue: Allmusic | Amazon MP3 | Emusic | Last.fm

October 21, 2009

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“Jealous Guy” – John Lennon
(Words/music: John Lennon, available on Imagine, Apple Records / EMI 1971)

Like many other great artists, John Lennon took moments that others might call mundane and coaxed out the inner beauty. While “Jealous Guy” might feel a little over-sentimentalized (mainly because of those syrupy sweet strings in the background), his narrator hits the right emotional notes. Specifically, the narrator hones in on the insecurity behind jealousy. No matter how we dress it up, jealousy comes back to this deep-rooted feeling that we aren’t good enough (or, perhaps, that someone else is better). Rather than fall into a cycle of anger that jealousy often starts, Lennon’s narrator opens himself up to his vulnerability by owning his jealous behavior and admitting to his flaws. It’s this disarming sweetness that makes him human, and it makes the claim that a hurtful result could come from a place of love a little more believable. After all, we’re all imperfect, and while good intentions alone won’t yield results, hiding from one’s failings won’t lead to growth either.

Today, six years after Elliott Smith died, I’m thinking not only about his songs but about “Jealous Guy” too. While many might link the two songwriters together based on their premature deaths, I think of the types of characters both men created. Both wrote songs about imperfect people who strove to be better, and while many focused on these characters’ flaws and thought of the songs as depressing, it’s an incomplete part of the picture. Often, both Lennon and Smith balanced the low points with a pervading sweetness and often a sense of hope. “Jealous Guy,” which Smith playfully covered on several occasions, acknowledges the narrator’s failure yet doesn’t mire itself in pity. Instead, it’s a plea to remedy the situation and move forward – and hearing Smith’s voice rise as he sings these lines (and laugh as he invites the crowd to whistle along with him) underscores the hope that next time the narrator won’t make the same mistake.

More on John Lennon: Allmusic | Amazon MP3 | Emusic | Last.fm

June 13, 2009

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“Lake of Fire” – The Meat Puppets
(Words/music: Curt Kirkwood, available on Meat Puppets II, SST 1984)

In many ways, Nirvana shaped my musical taste. In addition to being my first love, they introduced me to the idea that pop songs could also be “outside the box.” Nevermind was my first taste of songs that were loud and abrasive yet still melodic, but it was the Unplugged in New York performance that led me down the rabbit hole toward the stranger (and often more rewarding) pop music that wasn’t wildly popular. As with The Vaselines, I first heard of the Meat Puppets through Kurt Cobain’s interpretation of their songs. These songs (including the Bowie cover) are peculiar and a little rough around the edges, and I was a little surprised when I sought them out and found the original recordings a little stranger. Thinking about it now, it makes sense that the Unplugged performance was a little more polished due to the circumstances – a mostly acoustic, made-for-TV performance. Regardless, this was the perfect scenario for someone like me at that time – a teenager curious to learn more about music – to experience these songs. By hearing polished interpretations by an iconic performer, I heard the beauty of these songs without having to look for it buried in a recording. It also gave me a running start when exploring some of these bands later on.

The Meat Puppets’ version of “Lake of Fire” feels more like Hell than the Nirvana performance. Curt Kirkwood’s vocals sound like a tortured soul enduring an eternity’s worth of torture. In particular, I love the guitar sound in this version; it sounds like a bubbling, curdling pool of lava flowing through the song, filling every crack with its watery distortion. The whole thing sounds equal parts foreboding biblical sermon and shambolic sound collage. When put together, the song sounds a little less serious, as both the music and the narrative sound like they’re having fun rather than waiting for the Rapture. Strangely enough, the chorus implants itself right in your head, making you sound a little strange walking through the store singing about tortured souls. Still, it’s a lot more fun than I imagine hell would be (maybe?)

More on The Meat Puppets: Allmusic | Amazon MP3 | Emusic | Last.fm

March 17, 2009

[Flash 9 is required to listen to audio.]

“Bring the Noise” – Public Enemy
(Words/music: Carlton Ridenhour, Hank Shocklee, Eric Sadler, available on It Takes a Nation of Millions to Hold Us Back, Def Jam 1988)

It would be foolish of me to try to put It Takes a Nation… into the proper social context; other people have done it and did a much better job than I ever could. I only came to this record a couple years ago but it immediately struck me as sounding fresh and vital, especially for an album that just surpassed its twentieth birthday. Even though the Beastie Boys’ Paul’s Boutique gets credited as one of the first sample-heavy “masterpieces,” the production by the Bomb Squad loops together dozens of samples without it sounding like a jumbled sound collage. Even with such a rich backing track, Chuck D’s voice cuts through loud and clear, delivering his messages with both skill and conviction. Hell, even Flavor Flav sounds competent (especially when compared to the ridiculous self-parody that reality TV has turned him into) when he chimes in.

I was pleasantly surprised my first time through when I realized how different the album version of “Bring the Noise” was to the Chuck D / Anthrax thrash version of the song, one I knew from hours of playing the Tony Hawk 2 demo stage on the Sega Dreamcast in high school. I imagined that the original wouldn’t have the same edge without the relentless double kick drum action, but the album version keeps the intensity enough to prevent Chuck D from sounding like a raving maniac. In particular, the horn sample that weaves throughout the verse gives the track another sonic texture behind the siren sound and the prominently mixed scratching (the most dated part, at least to my ears). Where the Anthrax version blurred the lines between rap and rock (and look at the horrors that has wrought), the original makes the connection between soul, funk, and hip hop explicit.

Listening again, it makes perfect sense that Public Enemy would tap The Roots to be the backing band for a live performance of the album – their diverse musicianship and devotion to detail will help make this album breathe as a funk-fueled riot. Earlier tonight, I watched Public Enemy’s performance with The Roots (and the Antibalas Horns) on Jimmy Fallon’s show last night (embedded below, but go to Hulu and skip to about 37 minutes in to watch it in a higher resolution) and a few things jumped out at me. First, Chuck D still sounds great and Flavor Flav looks more ridiculous than ever in a jacket that looks like a NASCAR series car (by the way, happy 50th, Flav). Additionally, The Roots are an incredible asset to Jimmy Fallon’s show if for no other reason than serving as the potential to bring more live hip hop to television. I have to think that the opportunity to perform with the Roots on TV (see: Ludacris’ excellent performance during Fallon’s first week) will make more skilled MC likely to perform on a late night show. It goes without saying, but the Roots are flat-out excellent in this clip. The most telling part, aside from their faithful interpretation of the original’s semi-chaotic funk, was Black Thought’s verse in last night’s performance. The fact that he held his own with Chuck D says volumes about his abilities, and I’m looking forward to hearing him join plenty of other rappers in the coming months.

More on Public Enemy: Allmusic | Amazon MP3 | Emusic | Last.fm

February 26, 2009

[Flash 9 is required to listen to audio.]

“Crazy” – Pylon
(Words/music: Pylon, available on Hits, DB Records 1989)

I know the music of Pylon for two distinct reasons. The first was hearing R.E.M.’s cover of “Crazy” on their Dead Letter Office collection when I first got into R.E.M.. I remember loving the collection of B-Sides, in part because it contained the 1981 Chronic Town EP (which I also had on cassette tape from a department store’s going out of business sale, not know the scarcity of the artifact), but also that it contained a lot of really catchy songs – in particular, the track “Burning Hell” and a lot of the cover songs. I knew that “Crazy” was a cover only through reading the track notes in the CD (and, also, from reading a bit about Pylon in the R.E.M. oral history Talk About the Passion). Otherwise, it seemed like a more upbeat version of an early R.E.M. song – a mysterious sounding verse in Stipe’s trademark mumble, and the catchy chorus sounding out through Peter Buck’s jangling guitar. I can remember making a R.E.M. mix tape for friends and putting this song at a prominent position early in the tape.

I finally heard some of Pylon’s music directly when the DFA reissued their Gyrate album (I was also able to pit up the Hits collection – essential listening in my book). Of course, I immediately went to “Crazy” so that I could hear the original version of this song that I loved. I was struck at how faithful the cover was – the same riff runs through the song, granted it’s played by late guitarist Randy Bewley darker and with less reverb. Vocalist Vanessa Briscoe sings in a more confident manner than Stipe (perhaps because Stipe made up some of the words, according to Pylon’s drummer Curtis Crowe). Throughout the music collected on Hits, Briscoe toes the line between letting her band take center stage and becoming the focal point in the songs. She commands a strong presence (in a way that the Yeah Yeah Yeahs’ Karen O does) but is content enough to share her spotlight with her bandmates by disappearing behind their taut rhythms and focused songs, only to storm back to center stage moments later. It’s the kind of music that makes me simultaneously happy and sad – I’m glad that I’ve discovered one of the true American post-punk gems, even if I kick myself a bit for waiting the better part of a decade before seeking it out.

More on Pylon: Allmusic | Amazon MP3 | Emusic | Last.fm

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