We kid, of course. But for whatever reason, this year’s big trend in covers was: Tom Petty. At one point there were something like 20 Petty covers on our longlist. Many came from two all-star tribute albums that dropped, entirely coincidentally, the same year (they both made our Best Albums list). We narrowed it down, of course. Three Petty covers ended up in this Top 50, one not even from those albums. Then, just this week, another high-profile Petty cover dropped: Snoop and Jelly Roll reworking “Last Dance for Mary Jane”! Suffice to say that one wouldn’t have been a contender even if it hadn’t arrived too late.
That was the big surprise trend in 2024 covers. The less-surprising trend you could have called from a mile out: The new wave of young pop divas—Chappell, Sabrina, Charli—got covered a lot. We could have done an entire 50-song list of their covers, too (the “Good Luck Babe”s alone!). But, if we had, we would have missed out on gospel R.E.M. and country The Weeknd and electropop Mott the Hoople and soul Green Day and… you know what, just read the list.
(Moo-chas gracias and Deng-ke schoen to Hope Silverman for this year’s tiny-hippo art.)
I don’t know about you but I just love the fusion of ’60s pop and scuzzy walls of post-punk guitars: think Jesus & Mary Chain, My Chemical Romance and, of course, da brudders Ramone, melody and noise in a perfect pairing. Arguably, the Cramps started off this attractive meeting of opposites back in the mid 70’s. The baton has since passed to and fro, between froth and feedback, so often as to make it sometimes difficult to where it all started. (The answer, by the way, is probably Phil Spector.)
Denmark’s Raveonettes, the not-husband & wife duo of guitarist/vocalist Sune Rose Wagner and bassist/vocalist Sharin Foo, know this. They’ve spent their career allying close two-part harmonies into a scaffold of guitar noise. With their last album having been released in the Mesozoic era of 2017, many had deemed the band lost in action.
But Cleopatra Records knew otherwise. That L.A. institution has been the home of innumerable records that record and relate the co-terminosity of opposing genres. In fact, they featured the Raveonettes’ version of “The End,” that epic Doors song, etched forever into Coppola’s Apocalypse Now, for their somewhat limply titled Indie Goes Pop compilation. Now they have encouraged the duo to embark on a set of ’60s covers. Given the pair started off singing Everly Brothers songs in the clubs of Copenhagen, this isn’t too much a stretch. The love for the material still remains extant within their performance, if a little dialed back, on The Raveonettes Sing…. Continue reading »
Some of the albums on our list were obvious home runs. Cat Power singing a tribute to a 1966 Bob Dylan concert? You know that’s gonna be great (and it is). A bunch of punk and psychobilly bands blasting through Cramps covers? Pretty much a guaranteed blast. 90-year-old Willie Nelson in the twilight of his career paying tribute to one of his personal songwriting heroes? Good luck not being moved.
Others were more surprising. Reggae David Bowie could go either way. So could free-jazz Harry Styles or indie-rock ELO. And maybe the biggest surprise of all: T-Pain covers Sam Cooke and Black Sabbath…and it’s not terrible??
As always, big names mix with some albums we guarantee you’ve never heard of. To use one of the clichéd words we see constantly in cover-album titles, uncover some new favorites below.
25. Various Artists — Stuff Your Fridge!
Stuff Your Fridge! features 30 tracks, recorded by underground bands you’ve probably never heard, covering all aspects of the Grateful Dead songbook. The covers can be at times both brilliant and/or cringeworthy. The tracks that fare the best are the ones that stray the furthest from the original recordings, such as a goth version of “Cold Rain and Snow” by Delay 77 and a prog metal rendition of “Fire on the Mountain” by Buck Pool. But the compilers saved the oddest for last. That distinction goes to “Attics of My Life” by Holey Hell. It’s a keyboard-driven instrumental, arranged as if written for the soundtrack to a first-generation ‘80s Nintendo game. One can only imagine what they would have done with Drums and Space. – Curtis Zimmermann
24. Amos Lee — Honeysuckle Switches: The Songs of Lucinda Williams
Lucinda Williams seems like a solitary artist despite a steady flow of collaborations with (and covers by) her many admirers–country stars, jazz giants, and arena rockers alike. So it’s a warming surprise to have a full album tribute from an artist like Amos Lee, one who has made his own sizable mark as a songwriter and who is a generation or two younger than Lucinda.
Drawing from all phases of Williams’ discography, Lee keeps mostly on the bare bones side of things, with acoustic guitar or piano supporting his soulful vocals. Certain takes may miss the emotional core of the originals, while on other tracks he brings life to songs that may have felt too downbeat in Lucinda’s delivery of them. Or not–each listener’s mileage will vary. And anyway, Honeysuckle Switches may well find an unbiased audience in Amos Lee fans who haven’t yet known the pleasure of the songs of Lucinda Williams. – Tom McDonald
23. T-Pain — On Top of The Covers
In 2019, Auto-Tune pioneer T-Pain joined the first cast of The Masked Singer in 2019, a television show where celebrities hide their identities behind costumes and sing. T-Pain ended up revealing himself at the very end, by winning, and surprising the judges. T-Pain’s cover album maintains a similar spirit, whether he is still searching for redemption after the death of Auto-Tune or finally at peace asserting his raw talent. He has chosen each song on the album to show off his vocal range and power, spanning from old standards to hits through the ages. You will hear plenty of vocal runs that assert “listen to what I can do,” but they do so without an overbearing bravado, just confidence. Instead of relying on a computer to back him up, T-Pain layers his own voice intricately throughout the entire album. You can hear it in the Glee-like chorus accompaniment in “Don’t Stop Believin’.” His choosing “Don’t Stop Believin’” in the first place makes me think T-Pain is not taking himself too seriously with this cover album. It’s a guilty pleasure song, and perhaps not one that would first come to mind for someone whose brand is “Hard&B”. – Sara Stoudt
22. Various Artists — Dead Formats Vol. 2
Pure Noise Records’ second volume of (primarily) indie rock and alternative covers is just as fun as their first edition (which was our 16th best covers album of 2022). 15 artists tackle 15 tracks, as far back in time as Elton John from the ’70s, and there are a few tracks from the ’80s and ’90s, but most are covers from the aughts. Most of the covers are straightforward, high energy performances filtered through the lens of pop punk, but a few really stand out stylistically. Less Than Jake really lean into the vaguely Caribbean air of The Kinks’ “Come Dancing,” going full ska. Lavalove appear to treat Nirvana’s “Lithium” as pop punk, but then, on the bridges, they get really playful, alternately vamping and then embracing an aesthetic similar to Nirvana at their nosiest. Mint Green slow down Incubus’ “Drive” and though they don’t deviate much from the arrangement, the female harmonies stand out from the rest of the collection. (The Linkin Park and Slipknot covers also stand out, but only because they are faithful and the only nu-metal covers here.) – Riley Haas
21. Teddy Thompson — My Love of Country
Anyone not already convinced of Teddy Thompson’s mastery of country music need only waltz into his joy of an eighth album, appropriately titled My Love of Country. It’s here that the singer (hailing from London rather than Nashville, lest you should wonder) revitalizes a trove of country standards from the ’50s and ’60s. And it’s here that he channels his 23 years of professional dalliance in the genre into one immensely satisfying, 27-minute whole.
Teddy has the voice for it, of course, which is as strong, deep, rich, and emotive an instrument as it’s ever been. He also has the necessary conviction to deliver tracks previously made famous by George Jones, Buck Owens, and Ray Charles, as well as the skill to forge a magnificent country cut out of a whiskey-soaked number penned by his famous folky dad, Richard, in 1974: “I’ll Regret It All in the Morning.” He further has the help of an impeccable range of musicians to bring the fine period detail, including Charlie Drayton (drums), Byron Isaacs (bass), Jon Cowherd (piano), and producer David Mansfield (violin/accordion/pedal steel/most other things). That’s not to mention sublime harmony singers in the vein of Logan Ledger. But the ultimate reason Thompson makes “A Picture of Me Without You,” “Cryin’ Time,” and “You Don’t Know Me” sound so heartfelt and effortless is from having been immersed in these songs for much of his life. “That’s the real key,” he says, “having them in your body for a long time.” Amen to that. – Adam Mason
I’m uncertain whether Goo Goo Muck: A Tribute to the Cramps offered much in the way of notice, sneaking out, as it did, at the beginning of the month and maybe possessing a best-kept-secret status similar to the venerable band themselves. It wasn’t so much that the Cramps were unheard of, but, it always struck me, that they were un-heard. Everyone had read about them and tutted about the photos, thinking them exactly the sort of pop filth that shouldn’t be thrown at our youngsters. But, give ’em a go, and they are quite the surprise. Hell, they even had to invent a genre of their own: psychobilly, and what a fine title that was. And yes, if it betrays the broad musical axis upon which they swung, that of the rudimentary buzz of rockabilly, it also shows quite what they did with it. Mind, don’t go thinking psycho short for psychedelic, not their bag at all. This was, and is, psycho in full I was a teenage axe-murderer mode.
I remember looking at the photos in the inky pages of Britain’s New Musical Express, long before getting my ears on them, in awe at the appearances of Lux Interior and Poison Ivy Rorschach, possibly not their real names. They looked mean and bad and, alone in my teenage room, I wanted to be like them. I guess “Human Fly” was the song I heard first, a no-hit single in 1978, a buzzy earworm of a song that laid its larvae deep in my brain, a recurring item on the mixtapes I made in the day, gifts to all and sundry. Doing the standard research for this piece, I was astonished to see, these two apart, the sole permanent crew, they had had twenty other (often splendidly named) members over their 43-year career. Naively I had thought the Lux, Ivy, Bryan Gregory and Nick Knox combo to have been together near for always, yet I am not totally certain they even were all in the same band at the same time, failing also to clock that Kid “Congo” Powers had also been a later member for a while. (Huh, call yourself a fan!) Active from 1976 to 2009, I guess they more blanked out than fizzled, circumstance wrapping up the band as much as any projected plan, when Lux Interior suffered a fatal aortic dissection, where your main artery from the heart splits asunder.
It is down to the L.A. based independents Cleopatra label, home of many a disparate oddball performer, from Alien Ant Farm to the mercurial Wanda Jackson, that we have to thank for Goo Goo Muck. It’s far from the first to pay tribute to this maverick band. Earlier tributes have included such titles as 2002’s Larsen 19, 2011’s Cramped, Volume 1, and 2020’s Really Bad Music for Really Bad People. However, this time around, rather than trotting out broadly facsimile versions by fanbands and acolytes, the likes of country outlaw Shooter Jennings and Jerry Lee’s little sister Linda Gail Lewis get to throw their caps in the ring. Continue reading »
Welcome to the third installment in our Best Cover Songs of Yesteryear countdown, where we act like we were compiling our usual year-end list from a year before we – or the internet – existed. Compared to the first two, this one has significantly less grunge than 1996 and less post-punk than 1987. It’s hard to have post-punk, after all, before you have punk, a new genre starting to hit its peak in 1978. And don’t forget the other big late-’70s sound: disco. Both genres were relatively new, and super divisive among music fans. Lucky for us, both genres were also big on covers.
Disco, in particular, generated some hilariously ill-advised cover songs. We won’t list them all here – this is the Best 1978 covers, not the Most 1978 covers. If you want a taste (and think carefully about whether you really do), this bonkers take on a Yardbirds classic serves as a perfect example of what a good portion of the year’s cover songs looked and sounded like:Continue reading »
Every so often, a figure from behind the scenes of popular music garners such renown that he or she becomes a household name: “Colonel” Tom Parker, Quincy Jones, and Carole King (as a hitmaking songwriter before she stepped into the limelight) to name a few.
And then there are all the countless others, the ones who passed through this realm largely unheralded by the record-buying public. One of these was songwriter and producer Ed Cobb, who would have turned 80 today. You may not know his name, but he left his mark on some very disparate—and uniquely compelling—byways of pop music.
Cobb’s musical career began as a member of the Four Preps, a white doo-wop group that scored two Top Five hits in 1958. The Preps’ sound was safe and family-friendly; hardly the stuff of legend. But early on, Cobb gravitated towards songwriting and production, penning soul and R&B numbers rather than the Preps’ squeaky-clean material. One of these was a little number Cobb wrote for Gloria Jones called “Tainted Love.” It didn’t make much of an impact in its first two iterations, but on its third try became a record-breaking smash, hitting #1 in 17 countries. (Of course, close readers of Cover Me will already know this story.)
But there’s more to that song’s journey. When we recently spoke with Fugazi frontman and Dischord Records co-founder Ian MacKaye about Ed Cobb – his other band Minor Threat covered Ed Cobb’s “Sometimes Good Guys Don’t Wear White” – he alerted us to a yet another cover of the song:Continue reading »
I don’t know about you but I just love the fusion of ’60s pop and scuzzy walls of post-punk guitars: think Jesus & Mary Chain, My Chemical Romance and, of course, da brudders Ramone, melody and noise in a perfect pairing. Arguably, the Cramps started off this attractive meeting of opposites back in the mid 70’s. The baton has since passed to and fro, between froth and feedback, so often as to make it sometimes difficult to where it all started. (The answer, by the way, is probably Phil Spector.)
I’m uncertain whether Goo Goo Muck: A Tribute to the Cramps offered much in the way of notice, sneaking out, as it did, at the beginning of the month and maybe possessing a best-kept-secret status similar to the venerable band themselves. It wasn’t so much that the Cramps were unheard of, but, it always struck me, that they were un-heard. Everyone had read about them and tutted about the photos, thinking them exactly the sort of pop filth that shouldn’t be thrown at our youngsters. But, give ’em a go, and they are quite the surprise. Hell, they even had to invent a genre of their own: psychobilly, and what a fine title that was. And yes, if it betrays the broad musical axis upon which they swung, that of the rudimentary buzz of rockabilly, it also shows quite what they did with it. Mind, don’t go thinking psycho short for psychedelic, not their bag at all. This was, and is, psycho in full I was a teenage axe-murderer mode.
