Five Good Covers presents five cross-genre reinterpretations of an oft-covered song.
The original 1980 movie Fame was a gritty affair. British director Alan Parker wanted to produce a piece which warned against the folly of seeking validation for yourself from others alone, and how that impulse could be exploited. Having taken control of the project, he hardened up the script and themes, to the extent that New York’s High School for the Performing Arts withdrew co-operation. The British Board of Film Classification (BBFC) rating for the film is currently a “15” (equivalent to “R”) noting the use of strong language, nudity and drug use. Exploitative pornography, abortion, and repressed homosexuality are also themes. It is a warning as much as a celebration of Fame as a lifestyle choice. Continue reading »
Five Good Covers presents five cross-genre reinterpretations of an oft-covered song.
Massive Attack built a swift and sustained reputation right from the word go, as Blue Lines, their 1991 debut, virtually invented the whole trip-hop genre, and remains one of the best selling of that classification. I see Wikipedia describes trip-hop as “a psychedelic fusion of hip-hop and electronica, with slow tempos and an atmospheric sound, often incorporating elements of jazz, soul, funk, reggae, and R&B,” along with samples, often from film and elsewhere. Whilst that seems now a pretty good summation, at the time it was just so astonishingly different. Somehow, the unwieldy mix worked such alchemical magic, drawing together fans of any of those contributing parts, even if they didn’t especially love them all.
Mezzanine was album number 3, with a noticeably darker sound, adding industrial noise and post-punk to the palette. Outselling even Blue Lines, it became and still is their biggest selling release. Largely the baby of Robert Del Naja, it lead to some degree of conflict between he and the other members of the core trio membership of the band, Grant Marshall and Andrew Vowles. This meant Del Napa provided and put together most of the material, with the other two working mainly on the various loops of drum and bass used. Vowles then actually left the partnership shortly after release.
As a song, “Teardrop” was a rare instance, on Mezzanine, where Vowles had provided a track’s impetus, improvising the characteristic harpsichord figure in the studio. Vowles wanted Madonna to sing the lead vocal. She was very up for it, having earlier worked with the band (for “I Want You”). But Marshall and Vowles overruled him. They felt the ethereal tones of Elizabeth Fraser, from Cocteau Twins, would suit better the mood and melody. Fraser duly penned the words, later feeling they summed up her thoughts around her ex Jeff Buckley, despite being unaware his death at the time of writing.
Be that as it may, the combination of her lightweight vocal style and the gentle electronica prove to be unduly effective, explaining why “Teardrop” remains far and away the most covered of Massive Attack’s songs. It came out as Mezzanine‘s second single in April 1998, and reached #10 in the UK chart, still their highest home success, if faring better in other territories, notably Iceland, where it topped their chart. It took the TV series House M.D. using it as its theme song to give it any great traction in the U.S.. Continue reading »
Five Good Covers presents five cross-genre reinterpretations of an oft-covered song.
Nancy Sinatra’s “These Boots Were Made for Walking” first broke free as 1965 broke into 1966, becoming a worldwide smash in the January of ’66, at least in the world as then existed, the USA and the UK. In truth, it did pretty well everywhere else as well, with Europe, Australia, Singapore and Mexico all loving the sentiment. Writer Lee Hazlewood had based “Boots” on a line of dialogue Nancy’s Dad, Frank, had spoken in the comedy western 4 For Texas, so who better than her daughter to sing it? With the Wrecking Crew team of crack session players in attendance, the song is chiefly notable for the quarter tone walking descent of the bass line, provided by Chuck Berghofer. Indeed, most of the well over 300 covers replicate and repeat this, such is the shorthand of the song.
Five Good Covers presents five cross-genre reinterpretations of an oft-covered song.
It’s hard to remember where 1980 Ozzy Osbourne was (even if you’re not Ozzy Osbourne). When he released his first solo album, Blizzard of Ozz, expectations could not have been much lower. His last few albums with Black Sabbath saw him flabby and uninspired, vocally and otherwise. He was drinking and drugging at a literally unbelievable rate (the discovery that he’s a genetic mutant was still years away), and Black Sabbath had just cause to fire him. But he still knew how to put together a band. And when he found a five-foot-seven, 105-pound genius of a guitarist in Randy Rhoads, he assured that his own star would shine for a few decades more.
“Crazy Train” features not one but two hall of fame riffs from Rhoads, and Osbourne singing lyrics that could have made him sound like a hippie in another context (“Maybe it’s not too late / To learn how to love and forget how to hate”). But ohhhhh, that context! Bob Daisley, who played bass and claims lyrical credit, said, “As a child, I remember the feeling of fear. I knew Ozzy would like that [concept] because he felt like that, too, having been through it himself. He was kind of frightened about the threat of World War III and how we, as young people, had inherited these troubles, influenced by the threat of nuclear holocaust throughout our lives.” Years later, Ozzy would elaborate: “To me the ultimate sin is nuclear weapons. This is the ultimate sin. I don’t know about Ozzy Osbourne being crazy. Don’t you think these lunatics are crazier, building these bombs to blow us all [up]?” Continue reading »
Five Good Covers presents five cross-genre reinterpretations of an oft-covered song.
Kris Kristofferson’s resume may be one of the most remarkable documents of 20th century music. With his passing earlier this week at the age of 88, it was de rigueur for all In Memoriam pieces to bring it up. The man was a Rhodes scholar at Oxford, a Golden Gloves boxer, and a prizewinning short story writer. He was a US Army veteran, a helicopter pilot, and an award-winning actor. He could quote William Blake from memory, and he could rip Toby Keith a blistered new one. And, of course, he gifted the world with truly classic songs, plain poetry that dazzled in its simplicity and its emotional heft. He truly was, as he wrote in “The Pilgrim Chapter 33,” a walking contradiction, partly truth and partly fiction.
“I’m for anything that gets you through the night,” said Frank Sinatra in a 1963 interview with Playboy, “be it prayer, tranquilizers or a bottle of Jack Daniels.” Kristofferson, struggling to finish writing a song in the Gulf of Mexico, came back to that line and used it as the linchpin for “Help Me Make It Through the Night.” The song was about a one-night stand and therefore wore controversy on its back like a target. But the words were so plainspoken and intimate, the need far more naked than the girl, that people fell over themselves running to cover the story of a man all alone with his heart, no matter who else was in the room.
Five Good Covers presents five cross-genre reinterpretations of an oft-covered song.
Merle Travis may have brought “Sixteen Tons” into the world, but it was Tennessee Ernie Ford who made it immortal. The song’s arrangement – clarinets didn’t often get the spotlight, but one sure did here – was spare and distinctive. Ford’s bass baritone and his finger-snapping, both casual and menacing, hooked listeners in both the pop and country worlds, taking the song to number one on both charts. In a 1960 TV appearance together, Travis told Ford, “The song never amounted to much until you sung it.” Ford replied, “I never amounted to much until I sung it, either.”
