One Great Cover looks at the greatest cover songs ever, and how they got to be that way.
Punk paradigms provoke panic. Whether it is parents worried that their young people who do unnatural things with their hair may do more natural things if left alone together, politicians who fear anything they can’t readily control, or prog musicians who feel that someone is about to eat their lunch, there have always been reasons for fearing the new art form from the ’70s. Of course, none of these paradigms really hold true. Punk youngsters had no greater rate of teenage pregnancy than any other group of horny young people, and often proved to be good parents, and prog musicians have continued to thrive for the last few years, despite the efforts of the Sex Pistols and New York Dolls. Punks are inherently “anti-establishment,” but the remarkable thing about “The Establishment” is that no one can agree on who it is, so rebelling against it has no universal means and meaning.
Mexican-British (a much smaller demographic than Mexican-American) David Perez may be a nephew of original Joker Cesar Romero, or maybe he is not! Born in 1944 he didn’t find his true calling, as a hardcore punk now going by Charlie Harper, until 1976. He has embraced it as a member of the UK Subs ever since, combining skills with admirable industry. However, by the time he formed the band, in response to seeing The Damned, he was no longer a teenage tearaway, but a married man with experience of the world, and a history of playing in a range of R&B bands. He assembled a band that knew more than three chords, could turn his hand to harmonica and had assimilated a range of influences from the ’50s and ’60s, as well as the ’70s. He still includes songs by Hank Williams and Woody Guthrie in his sets, putting his politics alongside his music. We might guess who his “establishment” is. His band’s only previous appearance on these pages was to be included in a Nirvana cover feature, indicating a wish to stay current.
“Sabre Dance” is from the ’40s, but it took flight during the ’50s. We have all heard it. Soviet Armenian composer Aram Khachaturian included it as an afterthought to his 1942 ballet Gayane, but it quickly outshone the rest of his work, meaning that he felt frustrated as a one-hit wonder. “It’s like one button on my shirt,” he told an interviewer, “and I have many buttons.”
It is easy to see why “Sabre Dance” was a pre-Rock and Roll hit. Recordings of classical versions of it display musicians having fun (but fully concentrating), as it stretches their skills and entertains the audience as a crowd-pleaser. Percussionists have a lot to work with, and the trombonists (sometimes the Cinderellas of the orchestra) get glissandos and flourishes to play with, and the rest of the orchestra is fully engaged. Artists soon saw it as a technical challenge to master, so that people like Liberace could shape their career by arranging it for a high-energy piano. Anyone looking for a piece of music to capture kinetics, movement in all directions with intricate co-ordination, has at least considered the piece, and many have used it. Various people keen to show off their musical chops have tried covering it. In 1968, Dave Edmunds’ band Love Sculpture even took it to the top five in the UK.
Technically challenging, fun, Soviet-era, vocal-free. Does this sound like punk? If not, you are probably not a fan. The notions attracted the UK Subs in 1988, and they took their opportunity. Guitarist Nicky Barratt, who has had several stints in the band, has to carry the tune in the knowledge that the others keep up. The drums have to cover an entire percussion section. The band go at it, as we would say in the UK, “hugger-mugger.” Punk has evolved since 1976, as have the UK Subs, and them showing off their chops is a welcome distraction in 2024.
