When James Taylor was unable to perform on Jimmy Kimmel Live this week due to illness, The Killers gracefully filled the shoes. Not only did The Killers perform their most recent song “Land of the Free” as well as the Hot Fuss classic “All These Things That I’ve Done,” they also put their spin on a JT standard “Carolina in My Mind”.
Welcome to the third installment in our Best Cover Songs of Yesteryear countdown, where we act like we were compiling our usual year-end list from a year before we – or the internet – existed. Compared to the first two, this one has significantly less grunge than 1996 and less post-punk than 1987. It’s hard to have post-punk, after all, before you have punk, a new genre starting to hit its peak in 1978. And don’t forget the other big late-’70s sound: disco. Both genres were relatively new, and super divisive among music fans. Lucky for us, both genres were also big on covers.
Disco, in particular, generated some hilariously ill-advised cover songs. We won’t list them all here – this is the Best 1978 covers, not the Most 1978 covers. If you want a taste (and think carefully about whether you really do), this bonkers take on a Yardbirds classic serves as a perfect example of what a good portion of the year’s cover songs looked and sounded like:
The world lost a quintessentially American artist with the passing of Glen Campbell last week. Dolly Parton called Campbell “one of the greatest voices of all time”, and his incredible career certainly supports her praise. Hits that toed the line between country and pop included “Rhinestone Cowboy”, “Wichita Lineman”, “Gentle on My Mind”, and “Southern Nights.”
Many of those hits were covers, including his most well-known, “Rhinestone Cowboy.” Originally recorded by Larry Weiss, the song made little impact initially, but became an instant hit in the States once Campbell took it up a year later. Campbell’s charming, heartfelt vocals combined with soaring instrumentals perfectly encapsulated the theme:
As you may have heard, this year marks the 50th birthday of the Beatles’ seminal album Revolver. We already put together our own tribute album, but the celebration continued this past weekend with another set of covers. For his radio show, Howard Stern collected all-new recordings of every track by some serious heavy hitters, from vets like James Taylor and Cheap Trick to newer buzz bands like Nathaniel Rateliff & The Night Sweats and Milk Carton Kids. And we’ve got every song below.
Cover Classics takes a closer look at all-cover albums of the past, their genesis, and their legacy.
Following the cultural tumult that was the end of the 1960s, many musicians opted for a more introspective, seemingly autobiographical approach to their songwriting. Artists like James Taylor, Cat Stevens, Joni Mitchell, Jackson Browne, and scores of others suddenly made it okay to turn down the volume and once again focus on the lyrical content that tended to get swept aside during the height of psychedelia. Yet not all introspection resulted in the creation of original material. With the nation seemingly falling apart, many artists began looking back to the late-1950s and early-1960s, essentially their formative years, to help better understand how they arrived and, in the process, finding themselves temporarily transported to better times.
For a musician like Laura Nyro, herself always open and contemplative within her own songs, the approach transcended the internal here and now in favor of a more accurately autobiographical look at how she ended up where she did by the time of 1971’s Gonna Take A Miracle. Rather than digging deeper into herself in an attempt to find a wealth spring of inspiration, she returned to her original inspirations as though they were a palate cleanser designed to erase the memories of the preceding years’ social unrest. By returning to her roots and the music that inspired her in the first place – her “favorite teenage heartbeat music,” she called it – Nyro sought to find her center, looking backwards for answers contained within what was beginning to be (incorrectly) perceived as a simpler time.