On Cover Versions

“This is not the greatest song in the world, no

This is just a tribute”

~ ‘Tribute’, by Jack Black and Kyle Gass

from self-titled album by Tenacious D, 2002

Well, you can all just go ahead and call me a big ol’ sucker.  I’ve gone and done it again.  I’ve bought yet another dire covers album.

Part of the reason is that I’m oddly drawn to cover versions of songs.  The cover version is a musical institution, a tradition long held and observed, and the lure is fairly clear.  There are some pieces of music that have an appeal that resonates through time, almost demanding to be replayed, reinterpreted and reimagined.  They become classics, finding new audiences through the generations.  Think of jazz standards, re-recorded by artists like Harry Connick, Jnr., Michael Bublé, and, Heaven help us all, Rod Stewart.  Classical music is likewise performed by orchestras the world over, for time immemorial.  Through popular resonance and ongoing repetition, some songs become part of our collective cultural consciousness.

Going a step further, speaking as a musician, it is inevitable that you come across songs you wish had come from your own pen.  Since they didn’t, the next best thing is to perform them yourself.  There are few bands or performers I can think of whose recorded or live work consists exclusively of their own material.  With the appropriate recognition of the inceptive authors, cover versions are, for the most part, a perfectly honourable pursuit, more akin to homage than plagiarism.  It can also be instructive, in that it is quite likely worthwhile to listen to music that is enjoyed and admired by professional and knowledgeable artists.

Of course, there is also the lonesome busker, who mercilessly massacres the songs of others to make a very hard-earned buck.  No one really cares too much about them, because let’s face it, they're not really getting much rewards for their efforts.  I’m speaking from experience.

The sad and uncomfortable truth of the cover version is that, like remakes of classic movies, the cover is very, very seldom an improvement on the original.  Like any rules, there are exceptions that prove it:  it is difficult to argue that the late Jeff Buckley’s cover of Leonard Cohen’s Hallelujah isn't the definitive version of that song, magnificent and sublime.  Some covers may split audiences:  Country and western fans will no doubt prefer Dolly Parton’s drawl of I Will Always Love You over Whitney Houston’s histrionic warble, while the Linda Ronstadt version is all but forgotten.

There are some artists, whose body of work is widely admired, who open up the potential of good covers.  The thought here is that a quality song will hold its own regardless of what someone chooses to do to it.  A third volume of a series of cover versions of Finn Brothers' music (Tim and Neil, from their Split Enz, Crowded House and solo work) found its release recently.  I had bought the first one, She Will Have Her Way (2005) - named for a Neil Finn song - wholly performed by (mostly Australian) female artists.  I enjoyed it, even if some of the tracks added nothing to the originals, such as Natalie Umbruglia's Pineapple Head or Missy Higgins's Stuff and Nonsense.  Some tracks can best be described as bizarre, like New Buffalo's Four Seasons in One Day or Amiel's miscalculated and unfortunate dance version of One Step Ahead *.  Stand outs include Little Birdy's rollicking Six Months in a Leaky Boat, Renee Geyer's husky Into Temptation and Sophie Koh's ripping Charlie.

The second one, by men this time, was less cleverly called He Will Have His Way (2010).  It was patchy at best, lurching from Jimmy Barnes bludgeoning Message to My Girl to The Sleepy Jackson's appalling Better Be Home Soon while Kody Neilson's Kiss the Road of Rarotonga is all but unlistenable.  Emerging from this debacle relatively unscathed is Dan Sultan who teams with The Break (essentially Midnight Oil minus Peter Garrett) with Shark Attack and, in a mild surprise, Darren Hayes's respectful and heart-felt Not Even Close.

Something For Kate's frontman Paul Dempsey lends his considerable talents to the collection with a quiet and skillful rendition of Finn the younger's Addicted.  Dempsey has form: his covers have been found on several other collections prior to this, and he even released a bonus disc of four covers with his most recent solo release, Everything Is True.  The playful title of this bonus disc, Counterfeits and Forgeries, is telling.

The two Finn covers collections were amalgamated into one final volume, called They Will Have Their Way (2011) (see what they did there?), which included four extra tracks not found on the first two volumes.  I was not silly enough to buy all these songs again, oh no.  I'm not that stupid.  I just bought the extra tracks, both good and bad, from iTunes separately.

It's not all bad. The covers album I'm probably most fond of is The Green Album (2011), which has alternative/indie bands playing a selection of songs from the various iterations of The Muppets.  There's much to love about The Muppets, and most of the artists on this album seem to be enjoying themselves.  The key for the artists here is to understand and capture what The Muppets are all about: joy, just sheer, unadulterated joy.  OK Go have joy and fun in spades (check out their clips on YouTube if you need convincing), and it shows with their version of the Muppet Show Theme Song.  It also helps the collection that many of the songs the covers are based on are magical, lightning in a bottle, like Rainbow Connection and Bein' Green.

However, there is a more recent travesty.  I'll get to it shortly.

A while back I found an album of U2 covers by various contemporary Christian artists, while looking for a cover version of All I Want is You.  Intrigued, and suffering my usual malady of not acting upon my better judgement, I bought it.  My word, was it ever horrid.  Highlights were sparse, with the best track, Leigh Nash's cover of Love Is Blindness, still far short of the original.  Why bother? A dishonourable mention must surely go to Todd Agnew, who decided that the words to When Love Comes To Town were too much for his delicate sensibilities and changed them.  It's one thing to ape someone else's art but it's another entirely to arrogantly decide that your lyrics for their song are better than the ones originally written.  Especially since you have the option not to participate, or, I don't know, maybe CHOOSE ANOTHER DAMNED SONG?

Other than young Todd, who is frankly without excuse, there is a fairly good reason why U2 covers don't particularly work well, regardless of the performer of the cover version; as a band, they have a unique sound and a very particular dynamic that belies their seemingly simple makeup as a quartet.  The story goes that when they first came together, their dynamic was informed by their relative lack of skill as musicians.  Deft musicianship was not a necessity for popularity in the punk bands that were an influence to a young U2.  This dynamic developed and matured into a sonic landscape that is deceptively difficult to replicate.

U2 has not enjoyed much success of their own when covering others: The Beatles' Happiness as a Warm Gun was a misstep; Unchained Melody (itself coved more than five hundred times, but made famous by The Righteous Brothers) is awkward; John Lennon's Instant Karma is dull.  Whether U2 is also falling victim to the curse of the cover or are simply that the aforementioned dynamic is not allowing them to translate to music they have not themselves created is hard to say.

Which brings us to the most recent purchase, the travesty in question.  It was another U2 covers album, oh-so-cleverly titled Ǎhk-to͝ong Bāy-bi Covered, relatively inexpensive, celebrating the twentieth anniversary of their supposedly seminal release, Achtung Baby (1991).  Maybe the fact that proceeds of all sales were to go to charity** blinded me from the fact that, in my opinion, Achtung Baby was not all that good.  Surely the foundation towards a good cover is a having good song to start with, and good songs are sadly thin on the ground in Achtung.  But alas, there I was, feverishly purchasing and downloading the album, looking forward to my first listen through.  Face-palms quickly followed as my folly was realised.  The best track is probably Damien Rice's rendition of One, lent a grace and respect that pays a largely misunderstood song*** its dues.  My favourite track closes out the album: Jack White attacks Love Is Blindness like it insulted his mother.  If Bono had a grave, he'd be turning in it, with Leigh Nash weeping sweetly above him.

Let's face it.  I've been sucked in by that most vile of beasts, the covers album.  It seems I haven’t learned my lesson, so it’s entirely likely I'll be sucked in again.  Perhaps it's the chance of uncovering a gem the way an archaeologist uncovers a fossil.  Perhaps it's the envy of those who get to reinterpret classic songs.  Perhaps it's my inner busker, remembering that the cover is a gift that all of us can re-gift, again and again and again until some poor schlub tosses us a dollar.

* Thanks for that, Amiel.  Damned near killed one of my all-time favourite songs there.

** Of course, there are certain ethical considerations for the cover artist - the question of how to justify making money from something someone else has written, with Kylie Minogue’s Locomotion a good example.  The tribute album, with proceeds to charity, seems to go some way towards negating those issues.

*** Those who think One is a love ballad clearly haven't paid the lyrics a great deal of attention.  I've heard of couples inexplicably using the song as part of wedding ceremonies.

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