Five Good Covers presents five cross-genre reinterpretations of an oft-covered song.
Just what is is about the songs of the ’60s that gives them such legs? Are they that amazingly good? Did they appear on enough soundtracks that they embedded themselves in my brainpan? Or is that just my fantasy, born out of a familiarity as long as the life of the songs?
“Light My Fire.” Perfect example. The song started life in L.A.s proto-underground, written and performed by the Doors, one of many groups plying their trade on the strip at the bars, seedy and otherwise, dotted along its trajectory. Jak Holzman, president of Elektra Records (they’d signed the Doors’ friendly rivals Love), liked what he heard enough to give them a contract. Shortly after, they moved to the studio, recording “Light My Fire” and the rest of their debut and eponymous album fifty-eight years ago this week.
Released in April of 1967, in an edit of the full-length version, the “Light My Fire” single spent three weeks at the top of the Billboard chart, getting a further boost when Jose Feliciano delivered the first cover, itself a top-five hit. Over the years, that original version has seen it regularly populate various best-of lists, helping it attain platinum sales by 2018.
Via many of the saccharine cover versions that followed swift behind the Doors’ own rendition, arguably the plight of any perfect song construction, it has been latterly seen as some MOR staple, slipping further and further away from the original menace inherent. Pity. Second Hand Songs shows upwards of 310 versions, and not all of these are weird, cheesy cabaret staples. (You want cheesy? Try Nancy Sinatra, or Shirley Bassey, or the New Jordal Swingers. You want weird? Well, you couldn’t get much weirder than Mae West……) Thankfully, we found five that are not. Continue reading »
Five Good Covers presents five cross-genre reinterpretations of an oft-covered song.
“It doesn’t sound that great when I’m singing it myself. Why don’t we make it a duet?”
According to Ken Caillat, producer of Fleetwood Mac’s Rumours, when Christine McVie said that to Lindsey Buckingham, it proved to be the key to making “Don’t Stop” the song it is today. With the two of them exchanging vocals, compressed so much they almost sounded alike, and McVie playing a jaunty tack piano, they make the song so uplifting you’d never know it was about the end of Christine’s relationship with bassist John McVie. The Guardian called it one of the band’s five best songs, saying that “its cantering rhythm and chorus are so impossibly, infectiously buoyant, the song so flawless, that it cancels out the unhappiness that provoked it.” Continue reading »
Five Good Covers presents five cross-genre reinterpretations of an oft-covered song.
Well, actually not Deep Purple’s “Hush” at all, even if that is the version that cuts most traction. It’s also the only song that lingers from the pre-Gillan iteration of the UK titans, from when they were carved in soap rather than rock. The learned and erudite know that it was written by Joe South, that doyen of southern soul, but it isn’t even Joe South’s “Hush,” as he didn’t get around to putting it out, himself, until two years after the first recorded version, itself a year ahead the Purps. That honor went to Billy Joe Royal, a recording artist for Royal Records, where South was then a jobbing songsmith. Indeed, “Down In The Boondocks,” Royal’s biggest chart success, was also a South composition. But “Hush,” from Billy Joe Royal Featuring Hush, in 1967, did not chart.
However, Ritchie Blackmore, guitarist for Deep Purple, heard that version. He would later tell Vintage Guitar Magazine, “I thought it was a great song, and I also thought it would be a good song to add to our act, if we could come up with a different arrangement…. We did the whole song in two takes.” Despite being a British band, it bombed at home, but soared in the States, reaching number four on the Billboard chart, effectively making their name, even if the singer and bassist were shortly to step aside. Most UK listeners had to wait until the band re-recorded the song, with their new line-up, in 1984.
Irrespective of all that, Blackmore is quite correct in his assertion as to the greatness of the song, and it has racked up a roster of cover versions. Here are the best five, at least today. (Please note this does not include the version by Kula Shaker, as, regardless of the red-blooded interpretation, it is all rather too much in thrall to the Deeps, as I will this time call them, struggling to find a suitably uniform diminutive.)
Jimmy Somerville – Hush (Billy Joe Royal cover)
This “Hush” comes from Suddenly Last Summer, an all-covers album Jimmy Somerville made in 2009, both Bronski Beat and the Communards behind him. Almost impossible to classify, possibly somewhere between pop, jazz and an out and out torch ballad,vocally at least. Somerville has an unmistakable voice, inviting comparison with Dusty Springfield. Ukulele and piano flitter about for an arrangement that defies categorization. I think it perfection. The rest of the album is equally surprising, with the choice of songs stretching from Pete Seeger (“Where Have All the Flowers Gone”) to Blondie/The Nerves (“Hangin’ on the Telephone”), through to the unbridled trad. arr. of “Black is the Color,” via Patsy Cline and “Walking After Midnight.” Bizarre and brilliant.
Jeannie C. Riley – Hush (Billy Joe Royal cover)
Sticking to, I would hazard, the good ol’ boy vibe of Joe South’s rendition, Jeannie C. Riley ups the twang factor, and then some. If her na na nas sound a little unconvincing, her snarled swipe about the rest of the lyric is anything but, pouring all that Harper Valley P.T.A. bitterness deep into her delivery. Catch her “earrrly in the morning” and yelped “late in the evening” and play that bit again, a few times even, so as to get the full impact, not least as the way-too-prompt fade obscures her repeating the line, clipped way too soon, in her prime. Never to reach the heights of her debut single, this 1973 disc barely dented the country chart, peaking at 51.
Milli Vanilli – Hush (Billy Joe Royal cover)
Yeah, yeah, or whoever was really singing for the disgraced duo, but that isn’t really the point. Here, it’s the arrangement that grabs all attention. Drum machine and a funky electronic riff on repeat shouts the 1980s, and the boys nearly start rapping before sliding into echo and reverb effects. Heaven 17 and their production work for Terence Trent D’Arby had clearly been given a good listen to in the studio. Mind you, producer Frank Farian was never much of a slouch in that direction, his earlier project being Boney M, with a similarly loose relationship between who seemed to be singing and whomsoever actually was. It is a decent song, as, despite subsequent derision, was much else on the debut album, All Or Nothing, repackaged as Girl You Know It’s True for the U.S. market.
Max Merritt & the Meteors – Hush (Billy Joe Royal cover)
Whoa, you didn’t see that one coming, did you? A big-band jazzy instrumental, this came from the New Zealander’s last album in the Southern Hemisphere, Stray Cats, before he re-located and reformed the Meteors in London. where they were regulars on the pub rock circuit. As punk took away their soul and horn heavy jive, Merritt moved again, this time to Nashville, embarking on stage three of his near six decade career. Ill health took him back South, this time to Australia, until his death, in 2020, still performing, with his last album released posthumously. If in doubt, he is the guitarist in this version.
The Prisoners – Hush (Billy Joe Royal cover)
I guess midway between the above and the rockier metal versions, the Prisoners carry a heft imbued with a cocky r’n’b swagger, akin to the early Stones and Pretty Things. The beat drums and the scuzzy organ, offering nothing as casually insouciant as Jon Lord, are the most striking features, along with the throaty gargle of singer Graham Day. Defiantly garage, they were lynchpins of the so-called Medway Scene, Kent, United Kingdom, home of similar ne’er-do-wells, such as Billy Childish and his myriad bands. The organist was James Taylor (not that one), whose eponymous quartet later became prime movers in the acid jazz movement. Thought irretrievably lost in action, despite all members continuing careers in music, the band this year re-formed and released a new album, Morning Star, a mere 38 years since the last. I hope they still play “Hush,” available on a recent compendium of rare and unreleased material.
Five Good Covers presents five cross-genre reinterpretations of an oft-covered song.
The United Kingdom woke up to a new Prime Minister on Friday. We don’t yet know what kind of Prime Minister Sir Keir Starmer will be, but we know a little of his music tastes, thanks to a recent profile: “His music tastes are lodged in the mid-80s – Aztec Camera, Orange Juice, Edwyn Collins.” Edwyn Collins?
“Edwyn Collins’s tart cocktail of self-deprecation and self-assurance.” Pete Paphides’ beautiful, magnificent book Broken Greek is a love letter to the music that moves him, regardless of whether it does so for anyone else, or even if others in vast numbers appreciate it. He is not a snob. His musical awakening took place in the late ’70s or early ’80s, so we get some wonderful prose about Orange Juice, the band that Edwyn Collins led before his solo career. Orange Juice’s small output, and fewer hits, nevertheless had a disproportionate influence on music in Scotland and beyond. A recent history and museum exhibit of Scottish pop was named “Rip It Up” after the band’s best-known single. Edwyn Collins had something about him, a big fish in a small Scottish Loch.
After Orange Juice split, Collins continued to be a vital cog in the machine of the Scottish music scene. He produced creditable collaborations with, for instance, Robin Guthrie of the Cocteau Twins and Roddy Frame of Aztec Camera. All recognized his talent, not least himself, but it did not always translate itself to hits.
That changed in 1995 with the release of “A Girl Like You.” The worldwide hit encompasses a remarkable range of Collins’ skills and influences. Those who studied the success of the UK dance phenomenon Northern Soul identified that 121bpm is the most danceable pace for music, leading to dozens of hits at that exact pace in the charts of the ’90s. This song cleaves close to that ideal, and even samples a sixties soul classic.
But there is more. Collins uses a B&M Fuzzbox to achieve the distinctive riff, but enhances the refrain with a clean-sounding vibraphone. Sex Pistol Paul Cook played the drums that are not part of the four-on-the-floor sample. It is a sophisticated musical confection, worthy of the finest Viennese Patisserie. And then there are the lyrics, which add a layer of universality. Who has not started a romance with the belief that their partner is unique? With an unparalleled set of lovely traits, never combined in a single, heavenly creation. That moves everyone.
The song managed to conquer several markets, and chart in many more. It was helped on its way, curiously, by featuring on the critically mauled but subsequently cult film Empire Records. The lyrical message and place in time have enabled it to feature in several more films and TV shows, and have kept the song in the imagination and indie channel playlists ever since.
In 2005 Collins suffered a cerebral haemorrhage, and was near death, and the after-effects of that illness have affected him ever since. However, with the love and support of his family, he returned to music making, including live performances, where his talent and self-belief continue to shine through.
His best-known legacy has spawned many covers; here are Five of the Best of them. Continue reading »
Five Good Covers presents five cross-genre reinterpretations of an oft-covered song.
The Talking Heads cover of Al Green’s “Take Me to the River” has a very solid place in the world of cover songs. Also in the world of Cover Me: the site’s founder and editor-in-chief devoted a chapter of his book Cover Me to it, and on our first Q&A post, when the staffers were asked to name their favorite cover song, that was the response from two of them. Continue reading »
Five Good Covers presents five cross-genre reinterpretations of an oft-covered song.
The current iteration of the Average White Band, still featuring original musicians Onnie McIntyre and Alan Gorrie, recently completed their “Final” tour in the UK, although they have upcoming dates in the US. Nearly 60 years after they started jamming together and 50 years since the release of their breakthrough album, featuring their biggest single, the unit will move into Californian retirement.
The JB’s, Booker T. and the MG’s, The Memphis Horns, The Funk Brothers. Justly celebrated horn and rhythm sections. Driven by expert musicianship and camaraderie, they backed a thousand hit records. The Average White Band took an instrumental funk track to number 1 on the Billboard Hot 100, recorded blockbuster records by soul legends including Ben E. King, and were sought after as session and touring musicians by the best in the business, among them Paul McCartney and Daryl Hall. They were, of course, different from their heroes and predecessors, American-born legends all. Continue reading »