Archive for July, 2013
I’m not surprised that some oppressive cultures have attempted to outlaw some or all forms of music. Music is a drug. It alters mood and brain. Music cannot be controlled.
The cover–a redo of a song made famous by someone else–is a tricky proposition. Many are good, some are a waste of time. The transformative cover–when something brand new is brought to a song–can be a very happy thing indeed. Here are eight of my favorites, listed in alphabetical order by artist.
1. “Ruby Tuesday” — Franco Battiato
Battiato is apparently well-known in Europe, perhaps not as well known in the U.S., certainly not by me. He sings in a standard pop style in the general direction of Andy Williams or Tony Bennett. This style should not work on this Rolling Stones hit, or any other iconic rock and roll tune. I’m no fan, for instance, of Frank Sinatra’s covers of “Yesterday” or “Something.” They’re pretty, but they aren’t right. What makes Battiato’s cover right is that he picked a song that isn’t quite so sweet. “Ruby Tuesday” has itself a bit of grit. A bit of poingancy. Battiato’s sweet, heartfelt rendition, made me listen–in a fresh way–to the lyrics, and to realize just what a good song this is.
2. “Twist and Shout” — The Beatles
The Twist was a dance craze that emerged in 1960, lasted into 1961, and gave us such songs as “The Twist,” “Peppermint Twist,” and “Let’s Twist Again, Like We Did Last Summer.” Then, in 1964, in one of the great rock and roll singing performances of all time, John Lennon took this three-year-old, dead-as-a-doornail dance craze song, and blew the lid off it. He didn’t sing from nostalgia, or to do it again like we did before, he did it Now and Forever More, and There Can Never Be Another. I still get goosebumps when I hear this.
3. “Bad Moon Rising” — Thea Gilmore
Like many listeners, I misheard the lyrics in this Creedence Clearwater Revival hit from 1969. It was played extensively, a huge hit, has been covered numerous times since, but I never truly heard the lyrics until Thea Gilmore covered it on her Loft album, in 2004. John Fogerty (according to Wikipedia) was supposedly inspired by a hurricane when he wrote this, but in Gilmore’s version, it seems unmistakably about the Vietnam. I hear a resigned lament from a soldier about to go out on patrol, and not expecting to return.
4. “All Along the Watchtower” — The Jimi Hendrix Experience
One of the most famous covers, and for good reason. It isn’t that easy to cover a Bob Dylan song, in my humble opinion. The temptation, I think, is to make it sound too pretty. Jimi Hendrix keeps the apocalyptic drive going, and the result is beautiful, but not at all pretty. Perhaps it should be considered cheating for Hendrix to have played guitar as he did, and to be allowed to cover songs, but last I looked, it was not.
5. “That’ll Be the Day” — Modest Mouse
Lots of people have done lots of fine covers of Buddy Holly’s work, but none has whipped my head around like this. This song, as done by Buddy Holly, sounds jaunty, upbeat, and very pop. The jaunty pop sits in direct opposition to the lyrics, and jaunty wins. Modest Mouse has slowed it down, and added marvelous buzzy guitar, which bring the music in alignment with the words, and reveals the song for the tortured and ominous piece that it is.
6. “The Rains of Castamere” — The National
Hey, Game of Thrones fans!!! Does this really count as a cover? I don’t care. The lyrics are by George R. R. Martin, a fictional song if you will, sung repeatedly and mentioned often in the book, where it serves as a theme and warning to all non-Lannisters. It never had an original version, exactly, but with music by Ramin Djawadi, the song has moved to the TV series, where it has been used often and well. This version was played over the credits in an episode in season two, and what a delightful surprise it was. Because, while the melody is reminiscent of medieval tunes, The National’s performance is contemporary. It is not trying to be rock ‘n’ roll, but it’s not trying to be “period,” either. It isn’t trying to be anything; it just is, and it’s perfect.
7. “(I Can’t Get No) Satisfaction” — Cat Power
The original 1965 version of this song is my ring tone. I loved the song as a teenager because the adults were appalled by it. Eventually, I got all the lyrics, and said, wow that’s actually a good song. I never liked any of the covers of it, though, until I heard this one. The song is slowed way, way down, and as with “That’ll Be the Day,” above, the technique delivers. I not only hear the lyrics, I am forced to think about them. This song was written half a century ago, and yet it sounds like today. In the heyday of Lennon/McCartney, Paul Simon, Bob Dylan, etc., Jagger/Richards were overlooked as songwriters. I’m looking at them now.
8. “Real Love” — Regina Spektor
I was in Trader Joe’s parking lot when I first heard Spektor’s version of this song. It was before I had Shazam, and so I had to sit there and wait until the the KCRW deejay back-announced the track. I then had to wait months before it became available for download. This is perhaps the most transformative cover of all. The song is a John Lennon “leftover,” a track he never released. Sometime in the eighties, the three surviving Beatles got hold of it, went into the studio, and made a final Beatles record, using Lennon’s recording. The product made many of us very, very sad. Many of us wished the track had never been released. I felt that way, until I heard this cover. Regina Spektor takes this song, and lifts it above the mediocrity I took it to be. Her performance strengthens my faith in the ultimate goodness of the universe, that things really do come right in the end.
So that’s my list. To repeat, I’ve listed my favorites IN ALPHABETICAL ORDER (sorry to shout) in order not to imply that one choice is more fave than the others. Because, in truth, I cannot decide.
Creating links is boring. I trust all you kids out there are Internet capable enough to hunt all these guys down if you so choose, and in fact, you’re probably so hip, you’ve already got them on your own playlist.
Since the first of the year, I have been complaining about things in and around my house breaking. Both April’s “When Life Annoys the Writer,” and January’s “When the House Is Falling Down,” address the the time energy it takes to deal with our things. This is time that could be better spent on our life dreams. Like writing.
In my postings–behind the words–was an implied assumption, namely that, after this brief flurry of incidents, things would stop breaking for a while. Guess what. They haven’t.
The dishwasher we installed a couple months ago has worked beautifully, up until a couple weeks ago, when it sprung a leak and ruined the engineered wood kitchen floor. And, our quarter-century-old air conditioner has given up the ghost.
More chaos. More people coming out to have a look, and offer remedies. And it’s all down to me: My husband is a good man, but he leaves the care of the house to me. He will assist in major decisions, but I am expected to take the lead. Given how hard he works, this seems a fair enough exchange.
Of course all this disrupts the schedule, but I am more concerned with what it does to my mind. If I am using my limited mental power to find creative solutions to real-life problems, what’s left for my fictional world? Indeed, a bunch of stuff breaking tends to break my concentration.
So, I’ll be deep in a scene, and all of a sudden, I’ll think, “Once they’ve replaced the dishwasher, I should wait about three months before replacing the floor, to make sure it doesn’t happen again.”
I’ll go back to work, only to think, a few minutes later, “I would love to rip out the family room carpet and replace it with the same engineered wood we have in the kitchen. But if we do that, what do we do with the speaker wire?”
The story of my characters is replaced with the story of my house.
Gradually, persistently, I wean myself from compulsive thinking about the house and its care. I turn myself back to my fiction. Eventually, I come to weave the life experience into my work in more appropriate ways.
It helps to remember that real life is what generates fiction. Real life teaches me how things (and people) work. Every bit of it, mundane or dramatic, is potential fodder.
Years ago, in a writing class, one fellow student recalled falling off a hiking trail and tumbling down the side of the mountain. For all he knew, he could end up dead or paralyzed. Instead of worrying about that, though, he paid attention to every moment of the descent, knowing the information he was gaining on the way down (“This is what it feels like to fall off a mountain!”) was priceless and irreplaceable.
To paraphrase Stephen King, from his wonderful book, On Writing, art is meant to support life, and not the other way around.
So, it’s back to work. All the broken things that haven’t been resolved are waiting on other people now. Other deteriorating items I see before me haven’t actually broken. They can wait a few hours, while I write.