Jordan Becker

Jordan lives in Tarrytown, NY and enjoys writing about music in his spare time. He has enjoyed discussing music since his first experiences with radio at sleep away camp in the 1970's. A stint as a D.J. and program director at WPRB-FM in the 1980's solidified his love of opining about music, and he has recently begun contributing to music blogs. Some of Jordan's friends think that he has an unhealthy interest in cover songs, so writing for this blog will only confirm this sickness.

Jul 112025
 

Five Good Covers presents five cross-genre reinterpretations of an oft-covered song.

St. James Infirmary

Many folk and blues songs derive from other songs, since so often they were originally transmitted by oral tradition and not sheet music or recordings. Performers would hear a song, and change it for artistic purposes, or because they misremembered what they heard, creating a big version of the game “Telephone.” So, when a song’s origins are unclear, how do you determine what is the “original” version, and what are “covers?” That’s the issue that we get when discussing “St. James Infirmary,” a song whose origin is shrouded in mystery. There’s even a book about its roots, a blog, and a number of essays, but there doesn’t appear to be any universally accepted conclusion.

Some believe that the song derives from a tune called “The Unfortunate Lad” or “The Unfortunate Rake,” about a man dying of a venereal disease. Although that theory appears to be losing favor, and that song may actually be more closely related to “Streets of Laredo,” a cowboy song. Another song, “Those Gambler’s Blues,” (or just “Gambler’s Blues”), may be the source material, because, like the more modern versions of “St. James Infirmary,” it initially focuses not on the narrator, but on his sweetheart, who is dead in the hospital. (And some posit other source material.) The first sheet music for “Gambler’s Blues” was published in 1925 by Carl Moore and Phil Baxter, and the poet Carl Sandburg published a book, The American Songbag, in 1927 with two different versions of “Gambler’s Blues.” The same year, Fess Williams and his Royal Flush Orchestra released the first recording of the song. Continue reading »

Oct 082024
 

In the Spotlight showcases a cross-section of an artist’s cover work. View past installments, then post suggestions for future picks in the comments!

The Feelies

I volunteered to write this piece a few years ago, but never got around to it. When I offered to actually finish it, our features editor reminded me that he had written a Spotlight piece on The Feelies back in February. But he was game to let me write this, if there was no overlap. Remarkably, no overlap was actually planned. So, here we go, with a second Spotlight piece in a year about a band of, at best, limited popularity. Or, if you prefer, a cult favorite.
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Jan 202023
 

Five Good Covers presents five cross-genre reinterpretations of an oft-covered song.

Roches Hammond Song covers

In 1975, after an apprenticeship with Paul Simon and two years of grueling touring on the college circuit, Maggie and Terre Roche released their debut album, Seductive Reasoning, which featured songs written by Maggie. The album was not a success, and the sisters became disillusioned by the process and the music business. Telling their label that they were no longer going to promote the album, Maggie and Terre retreated to Hammond, Louisiana, where they slept in a friend’s kung fu studio and worked as waitresses.

In 1976, they returned to New York, where they tended bar at Folk City. With younger sister Suzzy, who was studying acting, they busked on street corners singing Christmas carols. The trio performed at clubs throughout the Village, creating a buzz about the sister act with the quirky harmonies and great songs, and they signed with Warner Brothers Records.

In 1978, the sisters went into the studio to record their first album as a trio. In what seemed an odd pairing, the producer was Robert Fripp, whose philosophy of simply recording what they sounded like (he called it “audio vérité”) was appealing, especially after Maggie and Terre’s experience with the more traditional process of using studio musicians. The self-titled debut album was a critical success–it was The New York Times’ album of the year, and finished at #11 in The Village Voice’s prestigious Pazz & Jop poll.

One of the album’s standout tracks, “Hammond Song,” was written by Maggie about her experiences in Hammond, Louisiana, but like many great songs, it is really about more. It’s about independence and making your own decisions—but it also includes the other side of the argument. And it features the incredible harmonies that the Roches are known for–Terre taking the high part, Suzzy holding down the middle, and Maggie anchoring the bottom. It also sees Fripp taking a guitar solo that’s one of The Roches‘ highlights. The notoriously finicky Pitchfork named it the 170th best song of the 1970s.
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Sep 072018
 

kilonovaWilliam Elliott Whitmore is 40, but he has always sounded like a much older man, with a deep, soulful voice that gives everything he sings a certain gravitas.  Think Tom Waits, Leonard Cohen, or late Dylan, or most of all, Johnny Cash at his most apocalyptic.  If Whitmore sang “Don’t Worry, Be Happy,” you’d still worry, and probably be unhappy.  I first heard Whitmore in 2006, opening for Lucero, at the Bowery Ballroom in New York, and was immediately transfixed by his timeless voice, dark songs, austere banjo, guitar and foot stomping accompaniment, and intense performance.

Born and raised on a 150-acre farm in southeastern Iowa, which he inherited from his parents and still owns, Whitmore grew up singing and playing guitar and banjo, with musical influences that started with country and moved toward punk as he got older.  At a certain point, though, Whitmore realized that he needed to focus on the folky, rustic, blues music that he grew up on–but with a punk edge.

So when Bloodshot Records released Kilonova, an album of covers of (mostly) lesser known songs from many musical eras, the question was, how would such a distinctive artist put his stamp on this block of diverse songs? “Diverse” barely begins to tell the story–artists range from Dock Boggs, to Johnny Cash,  to the Magnetic Fields to Bad Religion.

In short, the answer is, remarkably well.
Continue reading »

Apr 052018
 

That’s A Cover? explores cover songs that you may have thought were originals.

laura branigan gloria cover

I played a tiny part in unleashing Laura Branigan’s “Gloria” on the world in 1982. Fresh out of college, I landed a paid summer job working in the Atlantic Records promotions department. I spent the summer doing things like going to record stores and hanging up posters. It was a fascinating and fun summer, but it also confirmed that I didn’t want to spend my career trying to figure out what kind of music teenagers would buy. Mostly because it seemed like the senior execs were unhappy, divorced men who smoked and drank too much. Instead, I ended up in law school while another guy my age there became a very major record executive.

Like any good former college radio program director at that time, I had strong opinions about what was “good” music, and what “sucked.” And clearly, disco/dance music sucked. That summer, a number of albums I liked were being promoted to some degree by my department, including Adrian Belew’s Lone Rhino, Genesis’ Three Sides Live, Steve Winwood’s Talking Back To The Night, Jon Anderson’s Animation, and CSN’s Daylight Again. But there were offices filled with men and women promoting these rock releases, and only one guy, Rafael, promoting the dance music. As a result, I ended up working with him a lot, despite my lack of knowledge about – and general contempt for – dance music. I even tried to convince Rafael to remix one of Adrian Belew’s songs for the dance floor, which he briefly considered before thinking better of it. Continue reading »

Mar 092018
 

Five Good Covers presents five cross-genre reinterpretations of an oft-covered song.

It is somewhat ironic that most people know only one song by The Only Ones— “Another Girl, Another Planet.”  Originally released in 1978, it received minimal airplay and attention, but its reputation has grown exponentially over the years.  The Allmusic review of the song asserts that it is “arguably, the greatest rock single ever recorded.”  Of course, people will “argue” about anything, and choosing “Another Girl” as the greatest rock single ever is a bit of a reach, but you have to give the reviewer his due for taking a stand.  It is a great song, and it is fitting that it ultimately received the acclaim that it deserved.

The Only Ones formed in London in 1976, led by distinctively anguished vocalist and songwriter Peter Perrett joined by guitarist/keyboard player John Perry, Alan Mair on bass, and drummer Mike Kellie.  Featuring strong songwriting by Perrett and surprisingly (for punks of the era) competent playing by the band, they self-released a single, “Lovers of Today.” It sold well enough that a bidding war broke out among major labels looking for the next big thing. Continue reading »