Category: Lucy Kaplansky


REPOST: Lucy Kaplansky Covers…
Nick Lowe, Sting, Roxy Music, Steve Earle, Buddy Miller, Dylan and more!

October 21st, 2009 — 10:27 pm

It’s been a long week, and I’m up against deadline on several fronts, trying to balance a professional review, impending midterms, and the creation of a virtual school tour with the usual package of parenting, teaching, school committee policymaking and the occasional nap.

There’s plenty of coverfolk in the hopper, and I’m aiming for a compendium this weekend to clear the decks a bit. But to tide us over, here’s a repost from our very first month on the web, featuring Lucy Kaplansky, a singer-songwriter whose longing vocals and way with confessional metaphor I still turn to to keep me sane in the midst of chaos.



You almost never got to hear of Lucy Kaplansky: An 18 year old member of the early 80s new folk movement, she made it as far as plans for a recording venture with Shawn Colvin, only to change her mind at the last moment. For the next decade, Kaplansky continued to do light session work, most notably as a backup singer on early Suzanne Vega albums, but spent most of her time plying her newly minted PhD in Psychology as a therapist in New York. It was a hard loss for the folk community: her voice had been a sweet standout in the crowd even then, as evidenced by Fast Folk recordings from the era.

Thankfully, in the mid 90s Lucy came back to the folk fold. Since then, though she still supposedly sees patients, she’s produced six absolutely incredible albums, chock-full of masterful songwriting. It’s tempting to see her therapist’s eye in her lyrical tendency towards storysongs of family, the lifestruggle of generational difference and the passage of time, the closing of distances metaphoric and real. But regardless of the source, there’s nothing like her ability to find the right pace for a song, the right tone for a line, the right note of etherial melody for a story.

Kaplansky remains in high demand as a backup vocalist for fellow folkies on the road or in the studios; her pure voice and New York accent can be heard on almost every Shawn Colvin, Richard Shindell, Nancy Griffith, and John Gorka album. Her ear is incredible — I’ve seen her on stage with a good half dozen performers, and she seems to be arranging her harmonies on the spot, making good songs great with a subtle yet powerful touch.

But though in concert she tends to focus on her own stunning songwriting, Dr. Kaplansky’s cheerful delight at singing and arranging the tunes of others translates to her own recordings, too: her albums tend to come in at about one-third covers, and her taste is impeccable. Over the last thirteen years, she has come to be known as much for her sterling interpretations of the songs of others as she is for her own material.

In fact, Lucy Kaplansky is such a prolific and powerful cover artist, I had real trouble narrowing down the choices, so today we’re offering a cover or two from each of her six major albums, presented in chronological order.


Lucy Kaplansky covers…


You can hear more Lucy tracks streaming at her website, but every single Lucy Kaplansky album from 1994 release The Tide to 2007 release Over The Hills belongs in your collection, and you can buy them all direct from Red House Records. So do it. Period.


Today’s bonus coversongs come from compilations and other projects:



Cover Lay Down will return Sunday with a collection of sweet coversongs from new and upcoming artists and self-promoters.

1,038 comments » | Lucy Kaplansky, reposts

Buddy and Julie Miller Cover: Bob Dylan, Gram Parsons, John Hiatt, John Sebastian, and more!

July 6th, 2008 — 10:01 am


One of the primary reasons I focus on coversong here at Cover Lay Down is because I believe that covers are a great way to make the process of discovering new artists both comfortable and familiar. Most of the time, whether the organizing principle of a given post is the interpretive work of one singer-songwriter, or a single artists’ songbook, this means a focus on popular songs, and less popular artists performing them. After all, you don’t need me to introduce you to Bob Dylan, but you’re much less likely to have heard Angel Snow’s delicate, raw take on Dylan’s Meet Me in the Morning.

But for me, the discovery process works the other way, too. When I began collecting covers in earnest as part of the creation of this blog, I started using the “composer” field in iTunes actively; in doing so, I gained the ability to easily cluster songs by songwriter. This not only made it easier to organize songs for our Covered in Folk feature posts — it also led me to discover artists I might not otherwise have found, had I not been confronted with the fact that many beloved songs I had thought were unrelated originals by different artists shared a common songwriter, and gone looking for more work by that songwriter.

Today, this process bears wonderful fruit: a focus on the interpretive work of a married pair of singer-songwriters who I first encountered through their songs as covered by other artists. They’re known better as behind-the-scenes wizards from the country/roots-rock end of American folk music, but they’re great performers in their own right, and I think they deserve as much a chance to shine as their songs do. Ladies and Gentlemen: Buddy and Julie Miller.

Texan Julie Miller started singing at sixteen, releasing her first album in 1991; long-time Nashville session guitarist Buddy Miller met her on the road, and soon they were sharing both bed and band. But the singing-songwriting team of Buddy and Julie Miller was truly formed in 1995, when Julie co-wrote songs and contributed vocal talents for Buddy’s first solo effort Your Love And Other Lies. Two years later, critical accolades for the release of her major-label debut Blue Pony, which featured Buddy as producer and on multiple instruments, sealed their reputations in the folk and country worlds; since then, the two have become one of the most successful musical husband and wife teams you’ve never heard of.

You’ve almost definitely heard Buddy and Julie’s session work, though. Both are heavily in demand: Buddy for his production work, vocals, bass, and lead guitarplay, Julie for her vocal harmonies and writing. Between them, they’ve worked on over a hundred albums, in session with the likes of everyone from Frank Black and Jimmie Dale Gilmore to Mindy Smith and Patty Griffin. Buddy, who served in Emmylou Harris’ band for eight years, has earned accolades from bandmates Emmylou and Steve Earle, among others, for his guitarwork and his vocals; meanwhile, Julie’s vocal harmony has become the mark of a certain kind of promise for releases from predominantly female folk artists with a particular southern folk/country bent to their sound and their outlook.

But because session work is often invisible to the average listener, in name, at least, Buddy and Julie are probably better known for their work as interpreted by others. Their songs are unmistakable: rich with black and white old-testament imagery, catchy melodies, that particular form of desperate hope and strength common to regional music of proud but dirt-poor community, and a mountain gospel trope which fits well with the typical themes of post-folk country music. As other people’s hits and deep cuts, their music has helped bring fame and fortune to a huge set of artists from the country and folk worlds, from core country artists Lee Ann Womack (multiple tracks), The Dixie Chicks (Hole in My Head) and Brooks and Dunn (My Love Will Follow You) to countryfolk Emmylou Harris (All My Tears) and Hank Williams III (Lonesome for You), from Christian rockers Jars of Clay (All My Tears) to bluesman John Mayall (Dirty Water) to straight-up folk artists Lucy Kaplansky and Richard Shindell (see bonus section below).

Though their co-billed album Buddy and Julie Miller was a 2001 Grammy Nominee for Best Contemporary Folk Album, Buddy and Julie Miller are lesser-known as performers in their own right outside the music community. The Millers spend more time on sidelines than center stage; as such, they sometimes come off as session players getting their big break in concert, but they have their moments. I saw them a few years ago at the Green River Festival: Buddy studious, ragged and white-haired, grinning as he hunched over the guitar like a sideman; Julie beside him, smiling, singing a bit too brashly for her voice, her confidence level somewhere between performing spouse and full-blown performer. But the music was memorable in its way — big and generous, skillfully and unpretentiously presented, clearly studied — and the songs catchy and fun in the particular manner of rock music sung by folk musicians.

Still, it’s the studio where these folks really shine as solo artists. By himself, Buddy Miller favors an electrified roots-rock sound, with skilled guitarwork that runs a full range from driving to atmospheric wail, while Julie leans towards more traditional southern-style singer-songwriter folk fare in the vein of Nanci Griffith or Caroline Herring, produced (by Buddy, mostly) in a folkpop vein. They work with each other, so though nominally some albums are hers, some his, there are usually bits of each of them in the songs. Together, they make a powerful team, both in the way their various talents come together as a single whole, and in the way Julie’s sometimes tentative vocals compliment Buddy’s rough southern voice — think a slightly lighter-weight Kasey Chambers with a more intelligible Steve Earle, and you’ve just about got it.

Here’s some of Buddy and Julie Miller’s best coverwork, both solo and with others, that you’ve never heard.

*Look, the point here is to whet your appetite, so you’ll buy the stuff; ordinarily, I’d have links here and above to Buddy and Julie’s webstore, where you can pick up more of their fully autographed works direct from the source, without dropping most of the profit in the coffers of Big Music. But Buddy usually runs the store, and he’s currently on tour with Robert Plant and Alison Krauss, so he can’t fill orders. And most of Julie’s old albums are out of print, while the Millers prepare a “best of the early years” CD.

My recommendation: pick up Universal United House of Prayer NOW, direct from the label, and let that be your turntable goodness for the summer. Then, when you want more, come back to the webstore in August…or head out to your local indie store, where they’ll be happy to order whatever they can find for you.

Want more? Of course you do. And given the high recognition factor for the Buddy and Julie Miller songbook, we’d be remiss in not offering you a look at some of their best songs as performed by others. Because the list was so exhaustive, though it was hard not to share Emmylou’s version of All My Tears, I’ve decided to focus on some of our favorite song interpreters in the folkworld: Dar Williams, Richard Shindell, and Lucy Kaplansky, the three folk artists who, together, comprised the short-lived folk supergroup Cry Cry Cry. Today’s bonus coversongs may be just the tip of a very big, very wonderful iceberg, but I think you’ll find them worthy. (Bonus points: see if you can make out Buddy on one of these covers!)

Previously on Cover Lay Down:

  • The Gibson Brothers cover Somewhere Trouble Don’t Go
  • 806 comments » | Bob Dylan, Buddy and Julie Miller, Buddy Miller, cry cry cry, Gram Parsons, John Hiatt, John Sebastian, Julie Miller, Lucy Kaplansky, richard shindell

    Festival Coverfolk: Falcon Ridge Folk Fest, July 24-27 (The Nields, Patty Larkin, Martin Sexton, David Massengill)

    June 18th, 2008 — 12:21 pm

    Gas isn’t getting any cheaper, so now that you’re back from the confusingly-named fields and stages of Bonnaroo, where Ben Folds retired his lush, hushed cover of Bitches Ain’t Shit (see Fong Songs for a great live-from-Bonnaroo recording), it’s time to start looking at a few festivals closer to home. For us, this means our own stomping grounds, here in the American Northeast. And for my money, there’s no better festival around than the Falcon Ridge Folk Festival, a four-day, four-stage extravaganza of music, dancing, and live music that takes place in Hillsdale, NY, on the last weekend in July.

    Falcon Ridge tickets won’t sell out for a while, but if you’re like me, you’re going to need some time to air out the camper and clear the calendar. Without further ado, then, here’s a short feature on the festival itself, followed by some sweet covers from a few artists not to be missed.


    Falcon Ridge Folk Festival isn’t the biggest Northeast music festival, not by a long shot. The Falcon Ridge camping population hovers far under ten thousand; on a good year, total festival attendance doesn’t rise much past fifteen thou. To me, this is a bonus. Where the bigger New England folk festivals such as Philly and Newport are often too crowded for me, Falcon Ridge is intimate, as festivals go, with a community feel that’s rare for a major festival.

    This intimacy is as much a product of design and business model as it is a function of size. The place is entirely volunteer run, which means about a tenth of the people there have more than just a visitor’s stake in the place; the mood that results is relaxed and full of cheerfully shared ownership. There’s a Family stage and a Dance tent, in addition to Mainstage and Workshop stages, plus the usual and plentiful booths and services that make any good festival a full-body experience; these spaces interact effectively, with room to move, and no sound spill from one stage to the next. The camping areas nestle right up against the grassy mainstage amphitheater; after hours, small-label and indie artist performances continue in privately owned tents up on the hill until dawn, where you can see mainstage artists in a makeshift coffeehouse setting.

    Falcon Ridge is perfect for cover lovers, too. The best set at the festival is the annual two-hour tribute show, where as many as ten different artists and groups cram onto the workshop stage to perform the songs of a single artist in an in-the-round format; in years past, I’ve seen Beatles tributes, Dylan songs, and Guthrie tunes here, but no matter the tribute subject, the performers always have a great and infectious time. In fact, though the mainstage is plenty impressive, I spend the lion’s share of my music-watching time at this small second stage, which features intimate performances from mainstage-caliber artists throughout the daylight hours — most often in small groupings, which providing a rare opportunity to see two or three of your favorite folk artists play for, and with, each other.

    Falcon Ridge celebrates their 20th anniversary this year, and to make it special, they’ve come up with a full set of festival favorites that span a broad definition of folk, from old-school folkies Janis Ian and Jack Hardy to up-and-comers Joe Crookston (heard recently on Songs:Illinois) and singer-songwriter-cellist Lindsay Mac (who does an amazing version of Bill Withers tune Use Me). Other crowdpleasers include a plethora of contradance bands, and the ever-popular folkrock bands Eddie from Ohio, Railroad Earth, The Strangelings, Lowen and Navarro, and Gandalf Murphy and the Slambovian Circus of Dreams.

    The core of the festival performance is singer-songwriter folk, of course, and this year’s roster is impressive. Regular visitors to Cover Lay Down will find it familiar, too; we’ve previously featured a great many performers from this year’s Falcon Ridge 20th anniversary extravaganza, including John Gorka, Eliza Gilkyson, Lori McKenna, Chris Smither, Dar Williams, and folk trio Red Molly, who first came together on-site. (Note: In order to tempt you into joining me on-site this year, archives for all these performers will remain open until the festival has passed us by.)

    But such artists are only the tip of the proverbial iceberg; the Falcon Ridge roster is rich with talent. Later this week, in honor of their new album’s June 24th official release date, I’ll have two *exclusive* label-approved tracks from appalachian folkgrass quintet Crooked Still, who will appear at Falcon Ridge on Thursday this year. Today, we feature the coversongs of a few other great and often undersung performers who will grace the stage at this year’s Falcon Ridge Folk Fest.

    Though the songwriting talents of both male and female folksingers are increasingly touted with equal merit, for some reason, as a default mode of analysis, the folkworld tends to celebrate male musicians for their stringwork, while female singer-songwriters are known for their voice. Boston-based folk artist Patty Larkin has spent her career trying to challenge that curious bias, both as a solo artist and as a member of the short-lived quartet Four Bitchin’ Babes, and she’s got the chops to prove it: Larkin trained in Jazz guitar at the Berkeley College of Music, and her fretwork and picking style has been praised by many throughout her quarter-century of performance.

    But Larkin’s no one trick pony, either. Her songwriting is witty and wise, and she’s got a perfect note of longing in her voice that can melt the coldest heart. Though she’s drifted a bit label-wise, most recently landing at Vanguard, in the right production environment, her talents shine like a beacon. These two covers provide the perfect setting for this rare folk trifecta.

    My father took me to see appalachian dulcimer player and storyteller David Massengill way back in the eighties, at Club Passim in Cambridge, MA; it was one of my earliest experiences with folk, and it was, truly, a revelation. Massengill is best known in the folkworld for his role in starting the Greenwich Village cooperative which spawned the Fast Folk scene that revived folk music in the seventies and eighties; he hasn’t been terribly prolific over his long career, but he is an amazing performer and songwriter in his own right, a culture vulture with a wry critical eye and a warm voice, full of humor and poignancy about everything from gritty urban immigrant life to vivid, fanciful dreamscapes in which tourists visit the New York sewers, Jesus escapes from a mental hospital, and history’s greatest villains gather for a dinner party.

    David Massengill will be performing at Falcon Ridge as part of a duo with fellow Fast Folk granddaddy Jack Hardy; here’s two covers from him, plus Cover Lay Down fave Lucy Kaplansky doing a great rendition of one of his best.

    I recently discovered that Martin Sexton lives right around the corner from my sister-in-law, which makes sense only if you assume that such miraculous bluesfolk and that perfect mellow weight-of-years voice are best honed in the middle of absolute nowhere, Massachusetts. Sexton started off in the early nineties as a Bostonian busker, where he sold 20,000 copies of his demo out of his guitar case, but despite being named artist of the year by the National Academy of Songwriters way back in 1994, and, more recently, having one of his songs featured on Scrubs, this incredible songwriter and guitarist with the multi-octave jazz-infused vocal style remains just under the radar.

    Though my favorite tunes from him are light and airy as a Leo Kottke tune, despite his rural residence, Sexton can play it up funky and fast, too, with a catchy urban sensibility that’s off the charts. And he’s just incredible live. While we wait for his next album to go platinum, here’s both sides of Martin: a delicate live version of Amazing Grace worthy of Jeff Buckley’s dreamiest, and a bass-heavy high-production take on Billy Preston’s infamous Will It Go Round In Circles. Plus a great Christmas tune, just for the hell of it.

    It took me a while to get into the nasal, warbly, oddly Nordic vocal harmonies of local authors, folk teachers, and singer-songwriter duo Nerissa and Katryna Nields. But most people who like their unique sound really like their sound, and I can see why: the sisters, who first began playing Falcon Ridge years ago as part of folk rock group The Nields, write surprisingly poignant, deeply intelligent tunes about the weirdest subjects, and perform them with bouncy spunk and aplomb and a surprising tenderness. Plus, there’s something about any sibling pair singing harmony that just melds perfectly. Here’s a cover of and a cover by the Nields, the better to showcase both their songwriting and their performance. PS: Don’t miss their kid’s stage set.

    Want in? Tickets for Falcon Ridge are available through the Falcon Ridge Folk Festival website; if you’re camping, act soon, because four day camping passes invariably sell out a few weeks before the gates open. If you’d like to attend totally free, come volunteer* — we’re always looking for a few more folks willing to help out! A few hours of generally enjoyable teamwork each day gets you free music, free food throughout the festival, access to great camping spots, and that feeling that comes from being a part of something wonderful. Contact Volunteer Coordinator Barbara Jesse for more.

    *Full Disclosure: I’m Teen Crew Chief at Falcon Ridge, in charge of our “officer’s candidate school for future volunteers.” If you see a guy with a walkie-talkie leading a bunch of kids in matching shirts around the festival grounds, come on over and say hi — I’d love to meet you!

    Today’s bonus coversongs are a bit ragged, but I couldn’t resist: they were recorded in 2005 at the annual Sunday morning Falcon Ridge Gospel Wake-up Call — another of my favorite Falcon Ridge traditions — and everyone who is singing here will be at this year’s festival, as well. Add a warm and sunny summer morning, a great spot on the hill, and that feeling of community that can only come from having woken up in a field full of cool people you love, and you’re practically there.

    1,181 comments » | cry cry cry, David Massengill, Eddie From Ohio, Falcon Ridge Folk Festival, Festival Coverfolk, Lucy Kaplansky, Martin Sexton, Nerissa and Katryna Nields, Patty Larkin

    Covered in Kidfolk, Part 4: Daddy’s Little Girl Coversongs for Fathers and Daughters

    April 14th, 2008 — 01:52 am


    My younger daughter turns three tomorrow, and we’ve spent the weekend celebrating with extended family: a trip to the circus yesterday, brunch and a slightly damp walkaround at 19th century “living museum” Old Sturbridge Village today. It’s been exhausting, to be honest — putting the girls in their spring dresses, driving back and forth the length of Massachusetts, and advocating for the kids sanity among the best intentions of so many family members is a lot of work.

    But I’m grateful for the distraction. Because if I had a chance to really sit and think about how big my little girl is getting, I’d probably just end up crying.

    I remember, from her older sister: three is the turning point, where a child begins to turn from a state of constant parental need to wanting space and freedom, a room of her own. Sure enough, when we asked the wee one what she wanted for her birthday, she asked for a bunk bed — which was, for her older sister, the moment we could no longer lie in bed together, late at night in the darkness, and do what daddies and their children do: share stories, snuggle close, and, finally, listen for those sweet deep sighs, the ones that mean sleep has finally come to take my child from me one more time.

    The elderchild read her first book all the way through this week — just us and Sam I Am on the couch past her bedtime, struggling with would nots and could nots until the triumphant end. I was proud, and it seemed right. But my mind and heart play tricks. While milestones seem perfectly natural for the older child, and always have, there’s a part of my heart that rails against change when it comes to her younger sister. I want so much for her to be little forever, it hurts like hell.

    She’s getting big without me, more than her big sister did. We get so little time, just her and me, and she is still adjusting to Mama as a working girl — she clings to Mama when she comes home, and will not talk to me for the rest of the evening. This tiny towhead who once insisted on her Daddy, and only her Daddy, in the middle of the crying night is losing her lisp, and gaining her independence, and fighting to hold on to her Mama, and all I can do is watch the clock, and ache to hold her in my arms while they are still strong enough to carry her.

    So it’s been a poignant time for me, there on the couch with the elderchild while the wee one snuggles in with her Mama. I’ve always felt like I give the second child short shrift; it seems like we had so much more time, so much more focus when there was only one. Now so much more of our life together is spent in threes, trying to manage the play between them. Now here I am, running out of time.

    I’m proud of them, and I feel good about the time we spend together, on the whole. But my little girls are growing up, and though there’s nothing I can do about it except take the moments as they come, and fight for every one I can, I miss their smaller selves. And my heart breaks when I think how precious, how rare, the moments are about to become.


    There are several popular folksongs about fathers and sons which have been covered within the genre — stellar versions of Cat Stevens’ Father and Son and Paul Simon’s St. Judy’s Comet jump to mind, though Ben Folds’ Still Fighting It remains so definitive it is practically uncoverable. But with the exception of a few sappy countrypop tunes, there aren’t so many songs written from fathers to daughters out there.

    One reason the crossgender parent-to-child song may be so rare is that it provides a weaker outlet for the narrator to project their own sense of childhood into the child. Which is to say: The narrative trick which turns a song about fathers into a song about fatherhood, which makes mincemeat of my heart in songs like Harry Chapin’s Cat in the Cradle and Mike Rutherford’s Living Years, is unavailable to us. No matter how much I love my children, I can never claim to know what it is to be a little girl with a Daddy.

    But though like the moments I have with my own little girls, songs which speak directly and explicitly to our lot as parents with daughters are precious and few, what songs there are tug powerfully at the heartstrings. So today, a short set of songs which speak to my own complicated feelings for my own little girls. I’ve deliberately left out songs which name sons or mothers, though I’ve allowed myself a couple of songs which are open enough to come from any parent to any child. But this set of songs is intended first and foremost for daddies to give to their daughters. As such, it runs from sugar and spice, through everything nice. Because whether you listen as a child or as a parent, that’s what memories are made of.

    Unlike our previous kidsong posts here on Cover Lay Down, a vast majority of the songs included herein were not originally intended for children. Instead, most teeter on an open line, innocent enough to apply to either a lover or a child, unspecific enough to allow a good interpreter to choose, if they wish. To me, the delivery and intention of the performances below resolves the lyrical vagueness in a way that makes them perfect for sharing between parent and child. But many work well as more general songs of love and affection. You’re welcome, as always, to make them your own in any way you need them to. That’s the heart of folk, right there.

    • Livingston Taylor, Isn’t She Lovely (orig. Stevie Wonder)
      Like brother James, Livingston Taylor specializes in sweet songs delivered in a crisp, light crooning tenor over bright acoustic stringwork. This cover of Stevie Wonder’s tribute to female innocence comes from kidlabel Music for Little People, off out-of-print collection That’s What Little Girls Are Made Of.

    • Lucy Kaplansky, Goodnight My Angel (orig. Billy Joel)
    • Eliza Gilkyson, Child Of Mine (orig. Carole King)
      A pair from the incredible kidfolk compilation Down at the Sea Hotel: Cover Lay Down fave Lucy Kaplansky with a gorgeous tune originally penned by Billy Joel for his own daughter, and Eliza Gilkyson with a breathy, slow country blues take on a Goffin/King classic which suggests misty-eyed regret even as the lyrics celebrate a child’s independance.

    • Shawn Colvin, Say A Little Prayer (orig. Greg Brown)
      So many female coverversions of songs written by fathers for their daughters. This one, which treats the late-night illness of a child with a stoicism and a lightness masking the secret fear all parents have for their sick children, is more poignant than many, more mystical than most. Shawn Colvin is but one of many strong folkwomen on the highly recommended all-female Greg Brown tribute Going Driftless.

    • John Haitt and Loudon Wainwright III, My Girl (orig. Smokey Robinson)
      Languid and dreamy, floated over a majestic piano and guitarstrum, the beauty of this version lies in the distance between Wainwright’s melodic voice and Hiatt’s rasp. Listen for the high harmony; it’s chilling. Originally a B-side, subsequently off out-of-print Demon Records compilation album From Hell to Obscurity.

    • Ani DiFranco w/ Jackie Chan, Unforgettable (orig. Nat King Cole)
      Originally a song with unspecified female subject, this song was transformed when Natalie Cole chose to re-record it with the ghost of her father. Though the end result was a song more from daughter to father than the other way around, I think the sentiment holds, even in Ani DiFranco and Jackie Chan’s unusual take. From When Pigs Fly: Songs You Never Thought You’d Hear.

    • Ben Lee, In My Life (orig. The Beatles)
    • Chantal Kreviazuk, In My Life (ibid.)
      This song may not have been intended to speak to the way all other loves pale in comparison to the sudden, deep love we feel for our chidren, almost from the moment they are born. But it says it, all the same. Many good versions to choose from here; in the interest of diversity, here’s Aussie Ben Lee‘s tentative, nasal tenor and slow wash of sound off of recent indie tribute album This Bird Has Flown, in sharp contrast with Canadian Chantal Kreviazuk‘s bright soprano, layered over production suprisingly similar to the original, from the Providence soundtrack.

    • Billy Bragg w/ Cara Tivey, She’s Leaving Home (orig. The Beatles)
      All my fears in one song: the parents who never truly understood their child, even as she leaves them behind without a goodbye. Another repost, and more Beatles, gorgeously performed by Billy Bragg; so tender and wistful, it’s just right for the occasion.

    • Sheryl Crow, You Can Close Your Eyes (orig. James Taylor)
      One of my very favorite songs to sing to children: a stunningly simple lullaby of eternal parent/child tomorrows from James Taylor, covered in folkpop well enough for a Grammy nomination for Sheryl Crow in the Best Pop Female Vocalist category.

    • Gray Sky Girls, You Are My Sunshine (orig. Jimmie Davis)
      I sing this song to my children, as my parents sung this song to me. Though the Elizabeth Mitchell version I posted in our very first Covered in Kidfolk post sounds more like my parents, the simple, sweet plaintive harmony from local “organic country slowgrass” folkies Gray Sky Girls best parallels that which I hear in my head and heart.

    As always, artist and album links above go to online sources for purchasing genuine plastic circles which offer the best chance of profit for musicians, and the least amount of corporate middleman skim-off. Teach your children well: support the artists you listen to.

    866 comments » | ani difranco, ben lee, Billy Bragg, Chantal Kreviazuk, Eliza Gilkyson, Gray Sky Girls, John Hiatt, Kidfolk, Livingston Taylor, Loudon Wainwright III, Lucy Kaplansky, Shawn Colvin, Sheryl Crow

    (Re)Covered IV: More Covers of and from Sam Amidon, Lucy Kaplansky, Eliza Gilkyson, and House Carpenter

    February 8th, 2008 — 02:54 pm

    Thanks to email submissions, new releases and discoveries, and a newly-purchased CD repair kit, it’s time for yet another edition of (Re)Covered, a monthly feature here on Cover Lay Down in which we recover a few songs that dropped through the cracks just a little too late to make it into the posts where they belonged.

    I saw Lucy Kaplansky last month at the UnCommon Coffeehouse with my father; as always, she turned in a wonderful, intimate set, including great covers of The Beatles’ Hey Jude, Robin Batteau’s Guinevere, Ron Sexsmith’s Speaking with the Angel, and my own request: Cowboy Singer, a Dave Carter tune which she seemed genuinely pleased to play. If you ever get a chance to see Lucy, drop everything and go.

    We covered the works of Lucy Kaplansky in our first month here at Cover Lay Down, and posted Cowboy Singer last week in our feature on folk covers of cowboy songs. But I just can’t get enough of this sweet-voiced urbanite. So here’s Guinevere, which Lucy cites as her most requested song, plus a gorgeous Billy Joel lullaby from 2007 release Down at the Sea Hotel, a mostly-stellar album of dreamy kidsong covers from the Red House Records stable.

  • Lucy Kaplansky, Goodnight, My Angel (orig. Billy Joel)
  • Lucy Kaplansky, Guinevere (orig. Robin Batteau)

    Oh, and a bonus cover of Nanci Griffith’s Midnight in Missoula, one of two great Eliza Gilkyson cuts from that same kids album. We did a feature on Eliza Gilkyson’s coverwork a long while back, too. Worth revisiting.

  • Eliza Gilkyson, Midnight in Missoula (orig. Nanci Griffith)

    Since our Single Song Sunday megapost on House Carpenter, a couple of especially solid folkversions came in from the ether. Thanks to my readers for Dylan and live Aussie slidemaster Jeff Lang takes on this truly traditional English country ballad. The Pentangle version, off 1969 release Basket of Light, holds truer to the “original” lyrics than most modern covers but layers those lyrics over a truly psychadelic sixties instrumentation; the CD is out of print, so this cut comes to us courtesy of our local library system.

  • Bob Dylan, House Carpenter (trad.)
  • Jeff Lang, House Carpenter (ibid.)
  • Pentangle, House Carpenter (ibid.)

    And speaking of tradfolk: Sam Amidon‘s incredible new album All Is Well, which I wrote about several months ago in our post on Sam Amidon’s coversong career, finally dropped earlier this week. Here’s hoping the slight blogbuzz that accompanied the original hint of this moody all-tradsong indiefolk release turns into a mighty roar as it finally comes to the air. These two further cuts off the upcoming album, plus Sam’s own video for Saro, should whet your appetite enough to get in on ordering All Is Well.

  • Sam Amidon, Wild Bill Jones (trad.)
  • Sam Amidon, Wedding Dress (trad.)

  • VIDEO: Sam Amidon, Saro

    As always, links above and in the original posts whisk you off to label- and musician-preferred purchase sites. Support artists best by buying direct: it’s just that simple.

  • 750 comments » | (Re)Covered, Billy Joel, Bob Dylan, Eliza Gilkyson, Jeff Lang, Lucy Kaplansky, Nanci Griffith, Pentangle, Robin Batteau, Sam Amidon

    Cowboy Singers: Folk artists cover songs of the range

    January 30th, 2008 — 07:16 am

    I figured it would be fitting to end our contest week with a theme that would help us transition back from the countrified edge of folk. Thus: folk singers covering cowboy songs. Enjoy!


    Continuing our discussion from earlier this week: back when the world was acoustic, a guitar and a voice could travel a long way, from back porch to prairie campfire, and be different only by context, and the tone it lends. Since then, of course, our sense of genre has been radically transformed and fully, irreversably exploded into chaos. But once upon a time, folk and country and back porch blues weren’t so different, after all.

    The irony, then: while modern country music claims the concept of cowboy, today, reducing old cowboy standards back to their essentials is considered folk, where it would have once been just plain song. Crossover songs like these are like a return to the roots of the branching tree that is american music, back when the world seemed all wide open spaces and endless horizon; singing them is like longing for a time when we were a nation of strong, silent types.

    Today, then, some cowboy songs in the key of folk: a few true traditionals about the range and the prairie, and a song or two which merely references the once-familiar image. A few are technically country music, but their countrified folk interpetations are old and familiar enough to transcend genre. Most aren’t really about cowboys. They’re about the idea of cowboys, one of our last remaining clear-cut cultural metaphors.

    • Bill Staines, Home on the Range (trad.)
    • Maria Muldaur, Prairie Lullaby (orig. Billy Hill)
      A pair of quiet western songs from old-timey folk and gospel collection American Lullaby, effectively interpreted by two northeasterners: true New England backcountry folksman Bill Staines and ex-Greenwich Village folk staple Maria Muldaur.

    • Riders in the Sky, Take Me Back to My Boots and Saddle (orig. Gene Autry)
    • Riders in the Sky, You’ve Got A Friend in Me (orig. Randy Newman)
      Cowboy and western band Riders in the Sky have appeared at the Grand Ole Opry over 700 times. They also do a great cover of You’ve Got A Friend in Me, from Toy Story. Hey, Woody is a cowboy, too.

    • Ry Cooder, Billy The Kid (trad.)
      Billy was technically an outlaw, not a cowboy. But the setting matches, and Ry Cooder gives this traditional song such a wonderfully sparse, jangly, bluesy feel with nothing but mandolin and electrified slide, I couldn’t hold back.

    • Lucy Kaplansky, Cowboy Singer (orig. Dave Carter)
      I requested this song at a recent Lucy Kaplansky show; Lucy seemed pleased. It came off dark and thoughtful and sweet all at once, as always. From her penultimate release The Red Thread.

    • Kelly Willis, Don’t Come The Cowboy With Me, Sonny Jim (orig. Kirsty MacColl)
      One last mellow country song before I go: Kelly Willis does a great version of this old Kirsty MacColl waltz on Easy, all sweet voice and transcendent harmony. You’d never know it was country if you couldn’t hear the woodblock downbeat.

    • Suzanne Vega/Bill Frisell/Wayne Horvitz/Syd Straw, Medley Two: Stay Awake/Little Wooden Head/Blue Shadows On The Trail (orig. Disney)
      The annoying thing about 80s-era Disney cover album Stay Awake is the way the songs are impossible to separate from each other. The lovely thing about this medley is that all the pieces work. I posted it for Syd Straw‘s cowboy song; we’ll consider the Suzanne Vega and Bill Frisell Disney covers a bonus.

    As always, artist and album links above lead to artists’ preferred source for purchase wherever possible. Buy what you like; like yourself better for buying local and direct.

    68 comments » | Bill Staines, Kelly Willis, Lucy Kaplansky, Maria Muldaur, Riders in the Sky, Ry Cooder, Suzanne Vega, Syd Straw

    Double Feature Folk: Bill Morrissey Covers Mississippi John Hurt

    November 14th, 2007 — 08:34 am

    In rare cases, a performer goes beyond the traditional one-song cover approach to cover a full set of an artist’s catalog. At their best, from Jennifer Warnes’ full album of Leonard Cohen songs to Billy Bragg and Wilco’s reinterpretation of the works of Woody Guthrie, such devoted efforts to reimagine a whole body of work go beyond mere song interpretations to cast new light on a deserving talent.

    We call it Double Feature Folk — a case of featuring an artist who is himself featuring another — and we start today with Bill Morrissey’s 1999 tribute to the Songs of Mississippi John Hurt.

    Mississippi John Hurt was one of those classic early blues artists from the days of Lomax and Leadbelly. Lost for years with but two mid-depression pressings to his name, he was tracked down in his twilight through a song reference to his hometown of Avalon, and given a few shining years in the sun — including a set at the 1963 Newport Folk Festival — as a revered elder statesman of the country blues before his death in 1966.

    When he released his Songs of Mississippi John Hurt in 1999, Bill Morrissey was himself an elder statesman of the Fast Folk folk scene. Morrissey had cut his teeth on the blues, finding a balance between the New York folk scene of the sixties one one side, and the early lo-lo-fi sounds of Hurt and his country contemporaries on the other. Ten Grammy nominations later, he was known for having forged a unique brand of laconic early alt-americana focused on the milltown depression that hit his native New England in the late seventies and eighties.

    So why a full album of Mississippi John Hurt songs? Hurt’s greatest hits were in no real danger of getting lost — this is a man whose early version of Stagger Lee is considered definitive. Instead, it seems likely that, even as folk and blues seemed to be giving way to the post-grunge and lo-fi indie movements of the late nineties, Hurt himself was starting to be forgotten.

    For Morrissey, who attributed his right hand work “purely” to his discovery and subsequent embrace of the blues stylings of Mississippi John Hurt, this must have been a tragedy. Here was the antithesis of the Delta blues — a man who, in Morrissey’s words, was “elegantly melodic and funny” — and all that he was remembered for was a few old chestnuts he had made his own.

    Reminding the growing fourth-wave folk community of its roots while pulling Hurt’s less iconic songs back together under his name seems, in this light, almost a noble ambition on Morrissey’s behalf. In celebrating those roots — the bouncy, playful blues lyric, the acoustic blues fingerplay — Morrissey redefined post-blues folk, a group which would include equally playful and lighthearted contemporaries Greg Brown and Chris Smither, just in time for a new generation of artists such as Peter Mulvey and Jeffrey Foucault.

    And it works, too. Morrissey’s creaky, almost anti-melodic vocal style lends itself well to the surprisingly sweet songs of this iconic sharecropper. His eclectic acoustic arrangements bring horn, harmonica, and harmony without making these songs anything but lighthearted and fun.

    Today, three tunes from Morrissey’s tribute to Mississippi John Hurt — plus a whole mess of covers, both by and of Morrissey and Hurt — which showcase the startling commonality of voice, perception, and style between two half-forgotten A-listers of their respective musical generations.

    • Bill Morrissey, I’m Satisfied (Mississippi John Hurt)
    • Bill Morrissey, Louis Collins (Mississippi John Hurt)
    • Bill Morrissey, Funky Butt (Mississippi John Hurt)

    Bill Morrissey’s entire awardwinning catalog, including the fifteen-track Songs of Mississippi John Hurt, is available directly from Rounder Records. Mississippi John Hurt tracks are available on practically every good blues compilation, but all good bluesfans should have at least one copy of the Complete Studio Recordings of Mississippi John Hurt box set.

    Today’s bonus Bill Morrissey coversongs:

    And today’s bonus Mississippi John Hurt coversongs:

    Don’t forget to come back Sunday for a very special feature on up-and-coming indiefolkster Sam Amidon, including covers of Tears for Fears, some souped-up traditional americana, and more Mississippi John Hurt!

    659 comments » | Bill Morrisey, Devil in a Woodpile, Double Feature Folk, Greg Brown, Leadbelly, Lucy Kaplansky, Mark Erelli, Mississippi John Hurt, MuleboneUK, The Rolling Stones

    Lucy Kaplansky Covers: Just About Everybody (Nick Lowe, Sting, Roxy Music, Steve Earle, Buddy Miller, Dylan…)

    October 14th, 2007 — 10:14 pm

    You almost never got to hear of Lucy Kaplansky: An 18 year old member of the early 80s new folk movement, she made it as far as plans for a recording venture with Shawn Colvin, only to change her mind at the last moment. For the next decade, Kaplansky continued to do light session work, most notably as a backup singer on early Suzanne Vega albums, but spent most of her time plying her newly minted PhD in Psychology as a therapist in New York. It was a hard loss for the folk community: her voice had been a sweet standout in the crowd even then, as evidenced by Fast Folk recordings from the era.

    Thankfully, in the mid 90s Lucy came back to the folk fold. Since then, though she still supposedly sees patients, she’s produced six absolutely incredible albums, chock-full of masterful songwriting. It’s tempting to see her therapist’s eye in her lyrical tendency towards storysongs of family, the lifestruggle of generational difference and the passage of time, the closing of distances metaphoric and real. But regardless of the source, there’s nothing like her ability to find the right pace for a song, the right tone for a line, the right note of etherial melody for a story.

    Kaplansky remains in high demand as a backup vocalist for fellow folkies on the road or in the studios; her pure voice and New York accent can be heard on almost every Colvin, Shindell, Nancy Griffith, and John Gorka album. Her ear is incredible — I’ve seen her on stage with a good half dozen performers, and she seems to be arranging her harmonies on the spot, making good songs great with a subtle yet powerful touch.

    But though in concert she tends to focus on her own stunning songwriting, Dr. Kaplansky’s cheerful delight at singing and arranging the tunes of others translates to her own recordings, too: her albums tend to come in at about one-third covers, and her taste is impeccable. Over the last thirteen years, she has come to be known as much for her sterling interpretations of the songs of others as she is for her own material.

    In fact, Lucy Kaplansky is such a prolific and powerful cover artist, I had real trouble narrowing down the choices, so today we’re offering one cover from each of her six major albums, presented in chronological order:

    Lucy Kaplansky covers…

    You can hear more Lucy tracks at her website, but every single Lucy Kaplansky album from 1994 release The Tide to this year’s Over The Hills belongs in your collection, and you can buy them all direct from her label Red House Records. So do it. Period.

    Today’s bonus coversongs:

    545 comments » | Bob Dylan, Buddy Miller, cry cry cry, Louvin Brothers, Lucy Kaplansky, Nick Lowe, Olabelle Reed, Ron Sexsmith, Roxy Music, Steve Earle, The Police, Wayfaring Strangers