The 40 Best David Bowie Covers Ever

Head back to the beginning.

10. Cowboy Junkies — Five Years

The Cowboy Junkies are regulars here at Cover Me, such their propensity for imbuing a cover with a maudlin sensibility seldom realized within the original. Here it is a slightly different punch they pull, as this version lifts so many features straight from the original groove. But listen carefully; there is just a little more urgency in the drums, and Margo Timmins manages to add eerie frissons of fear into her delivery. If Bowie was in passive acceptance of the imminent end of days, Timmins is pleading, seeing it approaching ever faster in the rearview mirror. Play them, one after the other. – Seuras Og

9. Grace Potter — As the World Falls Down

Another posthumous tribute, pop-soul belter Grace Potter posted this on social media in 2016 following Bowie’s passing. A few years later, she gave it a wider release as a B-side to her single “We’ll Be Alright.” She gives it the full Dusty-in-Memphis treatment, a lush orchestral soul production with strings and swing. But the highlight, as it usually is with Potter, is her voice. She remains relatively restrained, powerfully delivering this ballad without more theatrics than necessary (and some are necessary—the song did come from Labyrinth, after all). She dedicated it: “In loving memory of the man who fell to Earth, only to fly back to the stars.” – Ray Padgett

8. Milky Edwards and the Chamberlings — Starman

It’s been more than a decade since people first spotted the soul stylings of Milky Edwards on YouTube. Three videos appeared showing needles dropping on hard-to-find vinyl and pumping out covers of Ziggy Stardust songs that sounded more like the Four Tops. “Soul Love,” “Moonage Daydream,” and (especially) “Starman” stomped the floor with Motown cool in the last place you’d expect it.

It’s a hoax, collectors cried, but the overwhelming response was, so what? Nobody cared if Milky Edwards or his album was real; these three songs were, and the only thing that would be better would be for Milky to go back to the studio and finish the job. That still hasn’t happened, and whoever mysteriously dropped the tracks has never come back to claim credit. But the rumor is, if you switch on the TV, you may pick him up on channel two. Good God. – Patrick Robbins

7. Ian Shaw — Where Are We Now?

Latter-day Bowie never seems to attract quite the volume of covers as his earlier works. 2013’s “Where Are We Now?” oozed with a sentimental nostalgia and went top ten in the UK (the last time for Bowie in his lifetime), yet before his passing, you could count its covers on one hand. Ian Shaw’s cover, released barely a month after Bowie’s death, takes the original’s nostalgia to a further level by perfusing it through the smoky filter of an after-hours jazz club, his voice giving off fumes of a performer at the end of his career. The verses are conventional enough, but, come the chorus, suddenly it all ascends. Shaw is a singer with his feet tucked well under the jazz table, and a catalog to prove it. But amongst his myriad interpretations of jazz classics and the great American songbook, he has also tackled a number of more contemporary sources, repeatedly returning to Joni Mitchell, as well as Bowie. – Seuras Og

6. Black Box Recorder — Rock ‘n’ Roll Suicide

The original “Rock ‘n’ Roll Suicide” has a quieter start, but it eventually opens up into a rounder, big-band sound. This cover also has an escalation, starting as a lament-turned-ballad of unrequited love and ramping up towards a stubborn declaration of solidarity. Early on, with the sultry vocals the “rock ’n roll suicide” is only a whisper. Then the slow-dance ode to a former self turns more strident. As the volume increases, the heavier guitar becomes more haunted house-like than school dance-y. But in the end, there is a quick lightening up of the heaviness we had turned to; the lights go on and couples pull apart from their swaying. – Sara Stoudt

5. Michael Stipe & Karen Elson — Ashes to Ashes

This cover comes from a 2016 Carnegie Hall tribute to Bowie, and from the start it feels like an elegy, with ruminating piano and Stipe’s whispered delivery. When the key shifts to major and Stipe elevates his voice to sing it’s a sudden and sweeping lift, but it lasts only a short time before Elson and Stipe slide back into a minor key on the words “all-time low.” Back and forth the song oscillates, minor to major, whispered to soaring, lamentation to celebration. It ends with Elson beautifully delivering the lines “my mama said/to get things done/you’d better not mess with Major Tom.” It’s a fitting finale and a fitting song of remembrance for Bowie. – Mike Misch

4. Peter Gabriel — “Heroes”

In 2009 Peter Gabriel tried to do a song exchange – he would cover another artist’s song and they would record one of his, and the result would be two albums, one of Gabriel covering others and one of others covering Gabriel. There were some hitches and Gabriel’s album would come out three years before its partner would. For his covers, Gabriel decided upon a completely different approach than what had made him one of the most famous pop musicians of the ’80s – he would record with an orchestra. His version of “”Heroes”” was the catalyst for the whole project, as when they recognized the idea worked for it, it would work for the other covers he had in mind.

For the project Gabriel teamed up with arranger John Metcalfe and it’s just orchestra and voice. Gone are Robert Fripp’s famous swirling guitar, the pulsating bass and drums and the “multi-latch” vocals. Metcalfe’s minimalist arrangement is evidently inspired by Arvo Part and Steve Reich and not Philip Glass’s 4th symphony, itself inspired by this Bowie album. The orchestra stars out softly but both it and Peter Gabriel’s voice build and build until the brief climax. As Gabriel himself said about it, “If you’re going to reinterpret something, then really do something.” – Riley Haas

3. Nirvana — The Man Who Sold the World

“That was a David Bowie song,” says Kurt Cobain at the end of his MTV Unplugged rendition of this song. As a middle schooler, this was new information for me, even though I was an avid liner-note reader. For an entire generation, Nirvana’s version is the definitive version, in no small part because of the posthumous release of the show as an album following Cobain’s death.

The Bowie original is much more psychedelic and almost playful, but Cobain’s has a dark and melancholy sound, his voice cracking, his words mumbled and slurred. Bowie’s lyrics have a new yearning and emptiness when Cobain sings “for years and years I roamed/I gazed a gazeless stare.” The not-at-all unplugged sounding guitar solo is simple enough for any novice to pick up but it passes the vibe check for the moment. The song in many ways is the centerpiece of the album, which itself is a masterpiece. Cobain may have given the credit to Bowie where it was due, but he stole the song that night. – Mike Misch

2. M. Ward — Let’s Dance

“Let’s Dance,” the title track of David Bowie’s 1983 album, is a poppy, rocking, danceable tune, created by the unlikely combination of Nile Rogers’ Chic-influenced production and related musicians, Bowie’s unique talents, and eye-popping, bluesy guitar from the then-unknown Stevie Ray Vaughn. And yet, behind the gloss and booty-shaking grooves is a song full of desperation. If you’d like a version that jettisons all of the fun parts of “Let’s Dance,” and doubles down on that desperation, then this cover by M. Ward is for you. Originally released on a cover compilation in 2001, and two years later on Ward’s own album, Transfiguration of Vincent, it is slow, mournful, and contemplative, with acoustic guitar, tinkling piano, and Tom Waits-esque vocals. Undistracted by the beat, you can really feel the emotion. – Jordan Becker

1. Beck — Sound and Vision

Written during the heat of his drug and alcohol addiction, “locked in a room in Berlin,” Bowie famously referred to “Sound and Vision” as “a very sad song for me…. It was the first time I knew I was killing myself.” While its lyrics are grim and defeated, the three-minute tune itself is unabashedly optimistic. Which brings us to this piece of sonic mayhem.

Referring to Beck’s 2013 rendition of “Sound and Vision” as “a cover” seems reductive. It is a revival meeting. It is a circus. There’s a 157-piece orchestra/madhouse conducted by Beck’s Dad, David Campbell. There are heavy metal shredders. Xylophones. Marching band drummers. A harp. Two choirs. A freakin’ yodeler. And of course, there is a sparkly-jacketed, fedora-hatted strumming and singing Beck. The whole recording was corporately sponsored by Lincoln Motor Company for an ad campaign, so no expense was spared. But put that cynical backdrop aside and immerse yourself in the life-affirming sights and sounds of what a service at an imaginary Church of Bowie™ might feel like. At the six-minute mark there begins an explosion of musical unity so staggering, it might make you cry… or at least wanna hug the whole damn world. – Hope Silverman

Check out more installments in our monthly ‘Best Covers Ever’ series, including Lady Gaga, Kate Bush, The Beatles, and more.

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