Category: Covered in Folk


Covered In Folk: Dougie MacLean
(Caledonia, Cara Dillon, Mary Black, Brooks Williams and more!)

November 20th, 2011 — 09:12 am





As with many of our more folk-oriented Covered In Folk subjects, I discovered the work of Dougie MacLean through two primary sources: through my father, who handed me one of his albums over a decade ago, and through label-watching, after discovering the same poignant song twice over, in separate female voices, and realizing that neither of them had written it.

The song in question is Caledonia, the Latin name for Scotland, and as its matronymic title implies, though it treats its subject as an anthropomorphised object of desire, its lyrics truly speak of a love of country. As a musical poem which speaks eloquently of the calling, and the homecoming, which so many ex-patriots and lovers experience, it is unsurprising to find that Caledonia resonates with and is well-covered by those who understand what it means to long for the Scottish Isles; indeed, though the song easily made Folk Alley’s list of the 100 Most Essential Folk Songs in 2009, the vast majority of covers which one can find are from Irish and Scottish singer-songwriters, who know MacLean as a countryman whose songbook is lush with tributes and mournful hymns to his native land, and seem to prefer this particular track as a favorite.

The multi-instrumentalist, who started his career in the mid-seventies with popular tradfolk group The Tannahill Weavers, and has since produced over a score of solo works, seems much less known outside of his native region, however. Despite the strong influence of Irish and Scottish folk on the broader canon, and on American culture itself, MacLean seems to be one of those artists whose influence in name is predominantly limited to those who trace their own roots directly to the same source.

Pity, that: though the artist sometimes referred to as “the Scottish James Taylor” is yet in his mid fifties, he’s hardly a one-song wonder. His instrumental The Geal was used in the film The Last Of The Mohicans, though you probably didn’t rush home to figure out who wrote it; Turning Away, which you’ll hear covered below, was used for the soundtrack of the Jennifer Lopez vehicle Angel Eyes. He’s received the OBE, had his songs chosen as the theme for national homecoming campaigns in his native land, and toured the folk mainstage circuit extensively in the US and abroad. An exploration of his larger body of work reveals several decades worth of beauty and poetry – a collection which is as praise-worthy and praise-ful as the printed and sung works of Burns, Yeats, Tannahill, and others – and a knack for melody and arrangement which both builds on and transcends the simple, elegant folk tradition from which he springs.

Rather than fill the shelves with a Single Song Sunday, then, I’ve chosen to split the bill down the middle this week. So here’s a half-dozen covers of Caledonia which ring true and traditional even as they swing through the vast ground that encompasses folk, from Euan Morton’s softly lilting piano ballad to several heartfelt contemporary Irish/Scottish singer-songwriter takes right up to Frankie Miller’s smashing Celtic folkrock anthem, and a paired eight-track set of coverage from the rest of MacLean’s body of work. Taken together, they provide ample evidence for his unsung worthiness on this side of the pond.




2 comments » | Covered in Folk, Dougie MacLean, Single Song Sunday

Covered In Folk: Danny O’Keefe
(w/ Alison Krauss, Nickel Creek, Chris Smither, Chris Hillman & more)

August 28th, 2011 — 02:32 pm





A short post by Darius over at Star Maker Machine late last week rang a bell; I hadn’t realized that Danny O’Keefe had both penned and first performed The Road, which most of us know well through its coverage on Jackson Browne’s definitive album Running on Empty, but I did recognize his name from the songwriting credits for Well, Well, Well – a song often attributed to co-writer Bob Dylan alone, but first recorded by Maria Muldaur. Following the thread through the stacks, I found more than I bargained for: turns out there was a surprisingly large amount of coverage from the hugely undersung songwriting genius already sitting around on my harddrive. And so a feature blog post is born.

If I hadn’t noticed O’Keefe much as an artist, I suppose it can be excused: his biggest hit record came out the year before I was born; he’s produced but a single album in the last decade; most recently, he’s turned to poetry. But the Minnesota-bred, Spokane-based singer-songwriter has been writing, recording and performing for four decades, making millions off of eponymous 1972 sophomore album O’Keefe, which produced both The Road and the extraordinarily well-covered mega-hit Good Time Charlie’s Got The Blues.

O’Keefe’s record as a co-writer and originator of song speaks volumes to his reputation as a songwriter’s songwriter. Good Time Charlie has been taken on by numerous names in the music world, from Elvis Presley to Cab Calloway, from Willie Nelson to Waylon Jennings. And unsurprisingly, given his primary modality and the audience it brings in, the majority of covers of O’Keefe’s larger catalog touch broadly on the country, folk and bluegrass worlds.


Danny O’Keefe’s lyrics trend towards the sentimental, touching on themes of nature and our relationship to each other through it; his voice is soaring and sweet, and his original performance contains elements of country, folk, jazz, and more; not for nothing has he been so well covered by the softer side of folk, blues, and folkrock, with Judy Collins, Harry Manx, and of course Browne himself taking on the songbook at one time or another.

But thanks in part to his hybrid style and lyrical accessibility, O’Keefe has found his way into the hands and voices of a larger set of folk-oriented artists, too. We’re skipping the hardcore country, save for a mellow country-pop pair from Byrds co-founder Chris Hillman, but bluegrass is well represented here, with Tim O’Brien turning in a sweet take on Into The West, Nickel Creek taking on When You Come Back Down (originally performed by O’Brien, but co-written by O’Keefe) with soaring mando-led harmonies, and Alison Krauss lending her beautiful vocals to Dave Mallett co-write Never Got Off The Ground. And bluesfolk Chris Smither and Pat Wictor – the former doubly; the latter both with and without recent folk supergroup trio Brother Sun – also turn in their own versions of songs either recorded or written by this gentle lyricist with the surprisingly political side.

Here’s the good stuff, a chronology of coverage that starts way back in 1975. Listen to the set in its entirety, and the odds are good you’ll hear a familiar song or two. If you, too, never realized all these songs came from the same pen and voice, well, that’s the point of coverage.



Cover Lay Down shares new finds and retreads through coverfolks sets and feature-length musings twice a week or more without fail.

2 comments » | Covered in Folk, Danny O'Keefe

Covered In Folk: Billy Joel
(An American Icon’s Greatest Hits, Stripped Down)

June 22nd, 2011 — 01:35 pm




I’ve been a passive listener of Billy Joel’s original work since middle school, I guess. But way back in my emergent years, I was a true blue fan, sifting through his early work as a high tenor, singing along with his songs at summer camp campfires, performing Just The Way You Are for talent shows, tagging along with a friend to see the master perform in the midst of the We Didn’t Start The Fire era, struggling to come to terms with his mid-career rock and roll, and the drum-driven pop path which he had adopted by the late eighties.

My future folk fandom outed itself even then, I suppose – though I have a soft spot in my heart for the hidden blue-collar tenderness of The Downeaster ‘Alexa’, I always preferred the Piano Man’s lighter, more introspective work. I fell instantly in love with And So It Goes, and other the soft, tender songs which seemed designed primarily to break up the heavier sound on his later works, even as I learned to skip past both the angry and the political pieces, which I liked for their sentiment but hated for their bombastic radio rock tone, and the syrupy ballads which remain his signature. As such, though I know and love songs from many of his albums, Cold Spring Harbor, his 1971 debut, remains my favorite.

But Billy Joel’s songbook is recognized around the globe for a reason. Throughout his evolution as an artist, the be-knighted and well-awarded artist has retained a prescient knack for lyrics and mood which get to the heart of both middle and working-class perspectives on family, relationships, modernity, and more. His narratives, grounded as they are in the real world of feeling and fact, call to several generations; many, with other instrumentation, would be recognizable as folk. Love him or hate him, its hard to deny his influence, or his ability to shine a light on the world in which we live.

Regular readers may note that we have a particular favorite here: indeed, we’ve posted and reposted Lucy Kaplansky’s gorgeous piano take on Goodnight My Angel numerous times since we first featured her work way back in our first few months on the scene. But any prolific artist who can speak so effectively to our hearts and our culture is bound to be well-covered, and here we find the full range, from subtle solo singer-songwriter coverage on piano and guitar to fully instrumented acoustic folk versions of songs from throughout his deservedly celebrated career. Enjoy today’s tribute to the man and his vision, the best of which identifies the heart and soul while stripping down the bombast to expose the delicacy, and the raw emotion, which so characterizes Billy Joel’s greatest hits and deep cuts.

21 comments » | Billy Joel, Covered in Folk

Covered In Folk: Bonnie “Prince” Billy
(A New American Icon, from Dylan to Danzig, from Joe Pug to Johnny Cash)

May 20th, 2011 — 09:13 pm





An unusual double feature today, combining our two most popular focusing strategies: covers of, and covers by, a folkworld artist with whom the average folkfan is only partially or anecdotally familiar. As with all those who we tout, our feature subject deserves to rise above the constant chatter, to be celebrated for his songwriting and performance. But in this case, the man is so prolific, it seemed appropriate to go for the omnibus approach.

To be fair, though I had long planned to take on the collected coverage of Bonnie “Prince” Billy, I came about this week’s feature backwards, through an incredibly beautiful cover of Hard Life, recently performed by rising star singer-songwriter Joe Pug and fellow indiefolk darling Strand of Oaks, in a set solicited and recorded by uberblogger Heather of I Am Fuel, You Are Friends in a small, private chapel session near her Denver home. It wasn’t the first time I had truly listened to the words and melodies of the songwriter in question – after all, the man has appeared on several indie tributes and cover compilations, and his name is a constant companion in the world of music bloggers. But as with the best covers of any stripe, the sheer beauty of the cover sent me back to the stacks, on the path of rediscovery.

And that way, I found, lies genius.


Bonnie “Prince” Billy – born Will Oldham, aka Palace Brothers, Palace Music, et. al. – is a performer as slippery as his pseudonymic existence, easily misunderstood as self-mocking when, for example, he appears with Zach Galifinakis in a Kanye West video, or professes his love for the infamous R&B artist and accused pedophile R. Kelly.

But in less than two decades of performance and recordings, he’s earned the credibility of his peers through an exceptionally prolific career marked by honest, earthy artistry, and a practically unparalleled devotion to authenticity in performance and song. As noted aptly in a 2009 New Yorker feature article, the result has been a true transfiguration of American music, one in which Bonnie “Prince” Billy… has become, in his own subterranean way, a canonical figure.

Oldham’s work isn’t as accessible as some of his more melodic peers in the indie world. His voice is gruff and broken, his lyrics oft oblique; to steep in his work, whether in collaboration or solo, in full instrumentation or soft, fragile acoustic singer-songwriter folk mode, is to enter a world where emotion trumps precision, and beauty comes – if it comes at all – blackened and tarnished, as a sort of dirty, coarse reflection of the ages.

But filtering other voices through those strained, strangled pipes and a diverse set of twisted, faux-grandiose melodic tendencies wrings new emotional potency from songs which have often been overlooked, or at least not ever looked at so deeply as Oldham manages to – see, for example, his recent recreation of Sufjan Stevens’ All The Trees Of The Field as some sort of great old Crosby, Stills and Nash vehicle, the odd yet aching sadness he brings to Puff The Magic Dragon, the utterly transformative way he channels Steely Dan to take on Springsteen’s Thunder Road, his torn, sparse, broken duet on John Prine’s In Spite of Ourselves, or any of the seven utterly amazing covers on his 2007 EP Ask Forgiveness.

And, conversely, those who have taken on his songbook do so out of respect, and each, in its way, has managed to reveal both the age-old nobility and the sense of modernistic grandeur inherent in the songs, evoking diamonds out of the ether, still tarnished with all the char and soot of the originals.

Today, then, we present a twinned feature of sorts: side A a full-length set of performances and recordings by the man himself, interpreting the songbooks of those he respects; side B a smaller but no less majestic set, with covers of Oldham originals from the likes of Johnny Cash, Calexico, Mark Kozelek, Fanfarlo in rare form, and the inimitable Joe Pug. Hear ‘em and weep – and then head over to Bonnie “Prince” Billy’s predictably inaccessible, oblique online home, to hear, purchase, pursue and explore.


Side A: Bonnie “Prince” Billy Covers:





Side B: Bonnie “Prince” Billy, Covered in Folk:



Cover Lay Down posts new coverfolk features and songsets twice a week thanks to support from readers like you. If you like what we do here, won’t you consider donating a few bucks to help defray our rising server costs?

46 comments » | Bonnie Prince Billy, Covered in Folk

Covered In Folk: Elvis Costello
(Peter Mulvey, Sara Lov, Hem, Lucy Kaplansky and more!)

May 5th, 2011 — 01:10 pm





One of the biggest challenges of coming of age in the late eighties is that some of the best pop performers of the post-punk/new wave era were already past their musical prime when I discovered them, invariably through radio hits that echoed their earlier work while somehow managing to sound derivative and old-school amidst the rising tide of majestic yet ultimately ephemeral heartland rock, bouncy pop, early grunge and smooth R&B which characterized the era.

Case in point: I went through a brief Elvis Costello phase when I was in high school, which mostly means I came to him too late. As such, though I find his earlier, punkier stuff palatable and familiar from the ubiquitous cultural canon of classic rock radio, I cannot help but remember him first and foremost as the man who put together Spike and Mighty Like A Rose – albums which contained pain and biting political satire which I could not yet appreciate, and whose chart hits hid that finely-tuned, articulate political mind among the polished popstuff.

But rediscovering artists with an adult’s mind and an audiophile’s appreciation for lyrical, melodic, and stylistic nuance is a fair benefit to pay for such generational outlook. And in Costello’s case, just as his songwriting endures, so does his legacy. Costello’s been around the block – long enough for multiple tributes, including the ragged, endearing 2003 indie tribute Almost You: The Songs of Elvis Costello, from which we’ve selected two favorites below. And recently, he’s gained my respect as a musician’s musician, most specifically in his role as host of Spectacle, the BBC/Sundance Channel program where his deep questions about the urges of artistry and the mutual admiration society he establishes with some of pop music’s most thoughtful artists have produced a series of memorable sessions.


As with so many of our Covered In Folk feature subject, Costello’s enduring and evolving relevance has been an inspiration to more than one generation of artists; as a consequence, both his bigger hits and, increasingly, his deeper works have been subject to a broad set of coverage from many genres.

Thanks to those who pick up on his earlier post-punk anger, there’s an awful lot of madcap in even the folk-driven covers we might find on this list. Gabi’s acoustic punkfolk Bedlam is fittingly frenetic and slightly out of tune. Cover Lay Down fave Lucy Kaplansky goes uptempo and oddly bouncy for (What’s So Funny ’bout) Peace Love and Understanding, the Nick Lowe composition made famous by Costello. The brush suitcase drum and solo busker’s tone of Peter Mulvey’s reinterpretation of Oliver’s Army take on the brisk energy of the subway platform on which they were recorded. And Canadian folk quintet Dust Poets take Veronica to a totally new level in a bluegrass-tinged acoustic roots performance which first won my heart way back in 2007.

But Costello does smoother balladry raw and tenderly, too. And it is ever the wont of folk musicians to strip down even the angrier tunes they love, to find new nuance in their words and melodies. Hem pull The Angels Wanna Wear My Red Shoes down to earth in a twangy alt-country, while Laura Cantrell goes for full-bore barroom country. Alison Brown’s bluegrass take on Everyday I Write The Book is fluid and gentle, full of sweetness and charm. Sara Lov’s new I Want To Vanish is frozen and languid and delicate; so is Tywanna Jo Baskette’s Just A Memory, in its echoey way. I’ve long loved the way Everything But The Girl transform Alison, wringing aching and tender from just a guitar and sudden, startlingly sweet harmonies. And though many have taken it on as a smoky jazz standard, Mae Robertson’s Almost Blue manages to keep things light enough for folk, even as the piano tinkles and the trumpet wails.



Cover Lay Down posts new coverfolk features twice a week, thanks to support from readers like you!

690 comments » | Covered in Folk, Elvis Costello

Covered In Folk: Bill Withers
…from country swing to acoustic funk…

February 27th, 2011 — 10:59 pm





I’m in a restless mood tonight, yawing wide in both taste and timbre. But my nocturnal meanders keep taking me back to covers of the same few songs – and for me, that’s generally an indication that the blogger’s mind will not rest until we take on the history of the author and his songbook.

Ironically, however, tonight’s feature subject exists in a short window of time indeed, even as his songs linger as cultural earworms in the culture today. So let’s move right along to this living legend who has not recorded a single studio album in over a quarter decade. Ladies and Gentlemen: Bill Withers, covered in folk.


In his time, Bill Withers was a relatively prolific statesman of the radio dial, winning multiple Grammy awards for his unique and often genre-bending approach to composition and performance: a powerful combination of blues, R&B, and soul produced both alone and in partnership with a broad set of influences, from Stephen Stills to Hammond organ player and producer Booker T. Jones, both of whom supported his first major release in 1971 on Sussex Records.

But though his star rose quickly throughout the seventies – thanks to funky beats, a sultry voice, and a knack for simple, perfectly soulful melodies and catchy walking melodic lines – Withers was frustrated by the workings of the industry, which kept throwing legal problems his way. By the end of that decade, Withers was already on semi-hiatus, focusing on collaborative projects with the likes of Saxophonist Grover Cleveland Jr. and Bobby Womack in order to avoid his commitment to his new label. In ’85, just fifteen years after he had cut his first album, he walked away from Columbia, nominally to spend more time with family – and though he did ultimately make a few live appearances in the subsequent years, unlike some artists, who keep a hand in as outsiders or secret session players, Withers never formally recorded in the studio again.

Of course, the man lives on: in the Songwriters Hall of Fame, which inducted him in 2005; in samples and remixes, which keep fragments of his work alive in their original form; in the two songs he contributed to Jimmy Buffet’s 2004 album License To Chill; on the soundtracks to a hundred shows and films and commercials, which surely keep the man happy, wherever he may dwell. And in coverage, he truly shines, with a small handful of songs given life over and over, providing ample evidence of his genius – and plenty of fodder to shake until the best of the best rises to the top.

Here’s a few post-millennial favorites from the vaults, many on the borderline of folk and something else – the backstage unplugged, Country swing, irish folk, and folkblues quadruple-take on Ain’t No Sunshine is an apt example – with each set a fitting tribute to a man whose undeniable influence crosses many lines, even as its origin is so condensed as to confound linear narrative. Heck, I’ve even thrown in a double-cover: an Irish acoustic gospel take on Grandma’s Hands mashed with No Diggity, the rap-soul song by BLACKstreet featuring a young Dr. Dre, which sampled Withers’ original tune for their own Grammy, way back before the turn of the century.









Cover Lay Down posts new coverfolk features and songsets twice weekly without fail, thanks to your support. Coming soon: a host of great new folk artists have dropped their work in our laps, and we’re eager to introduce you to them through coverage!

798 comments » | Bill Withers, Covered in Folk

Covered In Folk: Lucinda Williams
(16 covers from Ben Folds, Kaiser Cartel, Mary Lou Lord and more!)

February 2nd, 2011 — 02:32 pm





Lucinda Williams is surely better known – or at least more easily recognized – for her ragged heartbroken delivery and emotional way with a guitar than her songbook per se. But as we noted back in May of 2009, when we featured her interpretations of other peoples’ songs, it wasn’t always the case: her first Grammy win was as a songwriter, for Mary Chapin Carpenter’s 1992 performance of Passionate Kisses.

In many ways, of course, Williams’ is an unusual path towards stardom: though her 1979 debut album, comprised of all covers and traditional blues numbers, got her started on the road to success, its follow-up, Happy Woman Blues, which featured her original compositions, sold poorly, prompting an eight year hiatus from the recording industry while she built up her reputation slowly through performance, struggling to refocus her work and reinvent herself while she learned to depend on her live sets for her bread and butter.

In a world where out-of-the-gate albums so often define an artist’s trajectory, Lucinda Williams prefers to let her work mature slowly – a deliberate process which has often kept her out of the public eye during the long gap between albums, save for frequent appearance on other artists’ recordings as collaborator, and as a regular performer on tribute albums – and most agree that her best albums and songs have come later in her career. The coverage confirms it, clustering around late nineties breakthough Car Wheels On A Gravel Road, though Changed The Locks, which garnered radioplay around the country when it was first released in ’88, whetting our appetite for what would become a powerhouse career straddling folk, country, and alternative lines, also had no small success in the hands of both Tom Petty and, more recently, in Kasey Chambers’ live sets.

Having said it before, I’ve less to say this time around, though you’re encouraged, as always, to head back in time to check out our original post on Lucinda as channeler of song, a portrait of the artist in evolution. Enjoy the set, and the tribute.

  • Duane Jarvis: Still I Long For Your Kiss
    A tender, bluesy alt-country guitar ballad from an undersung West-coast country-rocker. Jarvis, who died of colon cancer at age 51 in 2009, actually cowrote this song with Lucinda, releasing his own take three years after Car Wheels hit the road.
  • Mary Chapin Carpenter: Passionate Kisses
    The obvious choice, AAA radio-ready and heavily rock-influenced; a double-Grammy winner, for performance and song, and you can hear why. Oh, Mary – we’re long overdue for a feature, aren’t we?



Looking for more Lucinda? Check out her newest project, a collaboration with Ray Davies which reimagines 1970 ballad A Long Way From Home, on See My Friends, an album of classic Kinks songs redone with special guests from Metallica to Mumford & Sons.

1,047 comments » | Covered in Folk, Lucinda Williams

Covered In Folk: Nick Drake
(18 covers from Beck, Lucinda Williams, Solas & more!)

December 5th, 2010 — 01:08 am





It’s surely more understatement than hyperbole to suggest that Nick Drake was a man before his time. The Cambridge dropout who found Dylan and dope more engaging than his studies certainly impressed the members of Fairport Convention, who would go on to support his 1969 debut Five Leaves Left in the studio, but he only confused British audiences, who found the chronically depressed insomniac anxious and disengaged, and his ecologically-grounded poetics and organic chorus-less songs completely anathema to the world of sea shanties and traditional brit-folk with which they were familiar.

By the time of his death at age 26 – the coroner claimed suicide, brought on by an overdose of antidepressants – Drake had long since stopped performing, or even showing up in the studio; famously, his final album was delivered to his record company already finished, with so little fanfare that it wasn’t even noticed sitting on the reception desk until the following week. He had also withdrawn to his parents house, both for the moral support and, arguably, because his unwillingness to engage in live shows or promotion had led to such dismal sales, he could not support himself independently.


But though he died young and relatively obscure, with only three studio recordings and a trio of singles to his name, most modern audiophiles place Nick Drake in the canon, naming him among the most influential English singer-songwriters of the past 50 years. This recognition is driven, in part, by his influence on other artists who discovered him after his death, quite probably prompted by an undercurrent of audiophile demand, which in turn brought forth comprehensive box set Fruit Tree in 1979 – a record which neither sold well nor received much critical mention, but which seems to have furthered the underground spread of his sound and sensibility.

Since then, Drake’s posthumous renaissance has been driven by the usual suspects. Numerous musicians in the 80′s and afterwards, from REM’s Peter Buck and The Cure’s Robert Smith to Kate Bush, The Dream Academy, and The Black Crowes, named him as an influence, causing the British press to identify him as progenitor of a particular type of “doomed romantic” public stance common to musicians at the darker ends of the musical spectrum in the late stages of the 20th century. Since then, others, including Lucinda Williams and Lou Barlow, have also cited him as creative ancestors.

And after a 2000 appearance of Pink Moon in a Volkswagon ad led to a wave of sales that far surpassed his total up until that date, his star continued to rise in the public eye, predominantly via film and other mass media, which have in the past decade found his atmospheric style, his delicate phrasing, and his pastoral lyrics resonant with the post-millennial indie soundtrack crowd, placing his work on a par with the resurrected sounds of proto-indie artists like Nico, Elliott Smith, and Vashti Bunyan.



Today, Nick Drake’s music and name are common on the tongue and in the ears of the average music listener, though many are likely more familiar with a small handful of his songs than the full canon. And his influence is easily apparent in the style and substance of a broad spectrum of modern singer-songwriters, many of whom we have covered here in the past.

But so much of the power in Nick Drake’s work lies in his delivery, it’s no wonder that so few have covered him effectively. And it surely doesn’t help that the daunting task of recreating that rich, layered tone, and the gentle, genuine awe apparent in that hold-your-breath voice, pales next to the very real risk of stepping into the damaged mind which produced it.

It takes a confident artist to be willing to take on all that, and a true craftsman to try it without faltering, managing to still come out the other side with something which works as both homage and something fully owned and fully transformed by the covering artist. Many have tried, and failed – there’s as much as a dozen tribute compilations out there, if you know where to look, and though most are fueled by genuine appreciation, much of the work fails to go beyond simple resurrection.

Happily, there’s a few geniuses who have managed to pull it off. And though some add strings or other instrumentation to strong effect, as many or more favor Drake’s preferred delivery, aiming for the stripped down sound of the folk artist, the quiet, broken singer-songwriter who eschews the studio’s perfection for the raw, the private, and the intimate sound of the basement and the empty stage, making them perfect for our ongoing journey through the world of the folkways.

Here, then, a compilation of those best and brightest covers, most of which go well beyond the mere reproduction of tonality which so stymies the influenced. Taken together, they make for a multifaceted tribute: to the man, to the adoration and respect which he himself never received, and to risktakers all, who pay tribute to those who burn so bright and so quick, yet cannot stand their own flame.



Cover Lay Down posts new coverfolk features every Wednesday, Sunday, and the occasional otherday.

2,171 comments » | Covered in Folk, Nick Drake

Covered in Folk: Stevie Wonder
(Livingston Taylor, Matt Ryd, Madeleine Peyroux, Petra Haden & more!)

October 20th, 2010 — 11:01 pm



After 25 Grammy Awards and just about as many albums, Stevie Wonder needs little introduction. Signed to Motown Records at the tender age of 11 after being discovered by Ronnie White of the Miracles, the blind-from-infancy multi-instrumentalist’s first two albums didn’t make much of a splash – his sophomore outing, a tribute to the songs of Ray Charles, is notorious for the poor match it makes between “Uncle Ray’s” world-weary lyricism and “Little” Stevie Wonder’s sunny, high-pitched innocence – but his subsequent work as a composer, singer-songwriter, and arranger is legendary.

Fifty years later, his sweet soulful voice permeates our musical map like only a rarified few. And though most of us can’t sing ‘em too well, I suspect you’d be hard pressed to find even the most amateur audiophile who could not identify at least a half-dozen of his numerous greatest hits from the first few funky notes or sweet synthesizer strains.

Somewhat surprisingly, however, collecting Wonder’s works through coverage is another matter altogether. I’ve been trying to put together this post for a few months now, but despite the fact that the Stevie Wonder songbook is thick in the cultural consciousness, his songs seem to be sorely undercovered, especially in the folkworld. Much of this may be related to the notorious difficulty others have found in interpreting his vocals – as his Wikipedia entry rightfully notes, Wonder’s highly developed sense of harmony, his tendency towards complex chord extensions, the unpredictable changes in many of his melodies, and his unusual preference for sustaining syllables over several notes, make his songs a challenge to own, and even more of a challenge to cover effectively without sounding like a poor imitation of the real thing.

Still, love songs are ever-attractive to the acoustic interpreter, and Wonder’s got more than a few direct, plaintive gems in his catalog. And certainly, an artist of Wonder’s stature and output provides no small temptation to those hoping to make their mark through reclamation of those familiar tunes.

Which is to say: though the man’s presence and prowess make him long overdue for a strong, well-crafted acoustic tribute album, it is ever our position at Cover Lay Down that no song is uncoverable, and – as if to prove it – in the past fifteen years, a few brave and hardy souls have not only chosen to try, but have managed to recraft the Stevie Wonder songbook successfully. Here’s a few folk and/or folkified favorites I’ve found along the way that make me smile.



Cover Lay Down posts your favorite new and newly-rediscovered coversong collections twice weekly, sometimes more.

1,731 comments » | Covered in Folk, Stevie Wonder

Covered In Folk: John Lennon, Solo
(12 songs, 17 covers, one inimitable legacy)

October 6th, 2010 — 12:40 pm





The blogs are abuzz with the impending anniversary of John Lennon‘s birth; the man would have turned 70 this Saturday, and in keeping with the digital world’s everpresent bent towards relevance and immediacy, the faux-urgency of the date seems to have started an avalanche of tribute. And though we’re not usually the bandwagon types, it’s hard to ignore the way the Lennon story has come to define both the end of a social era, and the sad coda to the Beatles’ breakup – and the impact his songs and spirit have had on music, both in and out of the folkworld.

It’s a familiar story, but it bears repeating: post-breakup, Lennon was known as a deliberate songwriter, who turned to using song as a voice and vehicle for his political and social activism, thanks in no small part to Yoko’s influence. Though his first few albums with Yoko are essentially ambient noise – lyricless and abstract, in keeping with the Dada-inspired, Fluxus-grounded artistic vision which she brought to the table – his solo catalog from those final years is chock full of singable hymns and ballads, thick with cultural criticism, heavy with idealism and hope, grounded in a modern working man’s burden.

It’s always hard to predict what would have been, especially in cases of gunmanship. What we do know is that Lennon’s death at the hands of Mark Chapman canonized the man and his catalog, even as he teetered on the cusp of a potentially legacy-changing comeback after five years on hiatus as a musician, making for a legacy practically unparalleled in modern memory.


Imagine lies at the core, of course, and the song is sure to saturate the cultural surroundsound as we approach the 30th anniversary of his assassination this December. Preemptively, we’ve selected a diverse four of our subjective best from over 70 covers on the books to close out today’s set, but it wasn’t an easy choice; there’s easily enough greatness out there for a Single Song Sunday.

But a tribute to death ill-befits the man who bared his soul in the name of love and living; there’s much, much more to Lennon the solo artist than this single, simple peace-movement anthem. And happily, folksingers and singer-songwriters of all stripes seem to have noticed, coming back to his songbook again and again, as the world ever teeters on the brink of war and disaster.

Here’s a few favorites – from Willoughby‘s gentle grunge to Shelby Lynne‘s countrypop, from Rosie Thomas‘ layered lightness to The Dimes‘ soft indie-americana harmonies to The Peptides‘ cough syrup echo, from the produced roots-folk of Keb’ Mo’ and Richie Havens to Acoustic Philosophy‘s live organic jamfolk, and from the emotive pianofolk of Regina Spektor, Mary Chapin Carpenter, Jackson Browne and Allison Crowe to the subtle guitars and simple voices of Julia Francis, Thomas Meny, Marissa Nadler, Jack Johnson, and Damien Rice – in well-deserved tribute to a life that leveraged fame into as much peace and justice as he could muster.



As always, we’re all about the artists here at Cover Lay Down – so if you enjoy the songs you find and hear here, don’t forget to go back and click on the artist names above, the better to pursue, support, and help keep the love alive and growing for all involved.

That said: though we’re happy to share the love we know, we can’t cover everything – we claim neither omniscience nor completism in our role as tastemasters and promoters – and neither can we give it all away. If you’ve got a great Lennon cover to add to the mix, feel free to share it in the comments with our blessing!

2,255 comments » | Covered in Folk, John Lennon

« Previous Entries