Category: ani difranco


Ani DiFranco Covers:
Greg Brown, Bruce Springsteen, Phil Ochs, Nat King Cole & more!

January 19th, 2011 — 06:25 pm





I’ve seen Ani DiFranco live in concert twice – once in a packed concert hall, and once outdoors, at a folk festival – and in both settings, she provided an amazing show, full of passion and pain. But my memories of those two shows are easy to differentiate, and not just because the vast difference in space and time framed her work differently.

In the first, which I attended as a chaperone for a busload of high school students, I remember bright lights and stagecraft, an electrified performer with a back-up band, a hard-rocking duo of an opening act entitled, embarrassingly enough, Bitch and Animal, and a crowd of screaming, bopping teenagers and young folks. In the second, I recall a girl with a guitar, intimate but self-assured, who fit right in amidst both the other predominantly solo acoustic acts who played that year’s Clearwater Revival Fest, and the old folkies and young acousti-punks who peppered the warm summer field that bright afternoon.

Different, indeed, in crowd and tone, space and subtext. And yet both rank up there in my top 50 concerts of all time. Because seeing Ani is a revelation, just as hearing her is.


On paper, Ani DiFranco can be hard to pin down. Two camps – the sensitive-yet-grungy indie-alt-rockers and the hardcore folkies – claim her as their own, in part because her music works both ways, in part because her work as a feminist and a champion of social justice fits neatly into both worlds. She has a child, and she has had two husbands, but she identifies as bi, and thanks to her proudly feminist stance, her most avid fan base includes a disproportionate number of lesbians. Her style is diverse: this is an artist unafraid to evolve, and equally sensitive to the nuances of stripped-down solo work and high-concept rockers. She channels anger and despair poignantly – many of the songs I turn to when I need a good cry are Ani’s – but she also does proud defiance exquisitely, too, as befits her rightful place in the canon of modern feminist music.

But much about the artist and her work is, ultimately, consistent. The utterly crushing emotional core, that gleeful yet determined grin, that slippery, throaty voice, the hanging notes and the punk chordplay, the deeply personal narratives which blossom into critical cultural reflection and biting satire, are an innate part of her charm and her success. Call her what you will: Ani is Ani, and one of the factors that makes her such a powerful voice in the community is, indeed, that ability to be her strong, joyful self, on stage and through song.



Unlike many artists, Ani doesn’t generally place cover songs on her full-length albums – though she did include three on her 2000 EP Swing Set. Indeed, in a prolific career of over 20 albums since her 1990 debut, she has released just one cover, a deconstructed electrofolk take on Amazing Grace, amidst her studio originals, which we first shared way back in our first Single Song Sunday feature.

It’s tempting to suggest that her work is so proud and so personal that it crowds out the songs of others, that the deep, raw soul-delving journey of each of her albums overwhelms influence, that it would make little sense for her to interrupt her own narratives with even transformed takes on the songs of others. And for this, she can be aptly forgiven: her lyrics carry such emotion, and her albums hold together so cohesively, it’s easy to see why Ani would want to keep her narratives closed, though as cover fans, we’re grateful that she often performs a cover or two in concert these days, something which was much less true of her earlier sets.

But over the course of her career, others have clearly sought out the power of Ani’s voice, both as an advocate and as a performer. She’s done two songs with Prince, appears as Persephone on Anais Mitchell’s acclaimed “Orpheus meets the American Depression” folk opera Hadestown, and features as a vocalist on Dr. John’s 2008 New Orleans tribute The City That Care Forgot. Her take on Wishin’ and Hopin’ on the My Best Friend’s Wedding soundtrack is too-cute and best forgotten, but her interpretations of the songs of others with more meaning in their lyrics stand-out on tribute albums for the likes of Springsteen, Greg Brown, Pete Seeger, and more.

Ani has lent her voice to others, too, when she feels they need to be heard: through her label Righteous Babe, which she started at the beginning of her career in order to avoid the artistic compromises which she saw as endemic to major label affiliation, and which has produced the work of similarly strong female voices since its inception, and in partnership with labor organizer and hobo songwriter Utah Phillips, with whom she released two albums, The Past Didn’t Go Anywhere (1996) and Fellow Workers (1999). And she spearheaded ‘Til We Outnumber ‘Em, a Woody Guthrie tribute concert to benefit the Woody Guthrie archives and the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame’s Educational Foundation, which was released through her label in 2000, and which you can hear sampled below.


The combination of Ani’s songwriting and her performance are stunning; if for some reason you haven’t heard them, I urge you to seek out mid-career fan favorites Not A Pretty Girl, Little Plastic Castle, Up Up Up Up Up Up, and 1997 live album Living In Clip – which Rolling Stone named one of “The Essential Recordings of the ‘90s” – among other strong albums from her catalog. If nothing else, pick up both her 36-song “greatest hits” package Canon, and the exquisitely produced Knuckle Down, which contains my two favorite tear-jerkers: the moody, jazz-tinged Studying Stones, and the pulsing Recoil, which hides a climbing anger under a language of malaise and ennui so perfectly, it never fails to chill me at its climax.

But this is a cover blog, and we celebrate through interpretation unabashedly – believing, as always, that cover songs provide an easier, more comfortable avenue to connect with the work of a new artist. A collection of Ani’s coverage, then, strong and passionate, with a few bonus tracks to follow by a few others from the folkworld who have tried to do justice to her own masterworks.



As promised, Today’s Bonus Tracks offer a few covers of Ani’s better-known works:


Having fun? A reminder, then: Cover Lay Down eschews advertising as a distraction from our core purpose: to provide the strongest link possible between artists and listeners, to the benefit of all. But as noted earlier this month, we depend on the kindness of strangers and friends to pay the bandwidth bills, and those bills rise each year as more and more people find their way to our little home on the web.

If you, too, like what you hear here, we encourage you to click on the links in this and every feature, to purchase tracks and CDs from the artists we find and promote. But if you have any goodwill left after that, we hope you will consider a donation to help cover our costs. All who donate will receive – at the end of the month – a sampler of bootleg cover tracks recorded by yours truly at various concerts and festivals throughout 2010, and available nowhere else. And until the end of this month, 20% of all donations will be paid forward to the Food Bank of Western Massachusetts, the better to support the local community through the long winter. Won’t you consider helping out?

1,031 comments » | ani difranco

Covered in Folk: Pete Seeger (On Folk as an Engine of Social Change)

September 24th, 2008 — 08:37 pm

Though I believe that folk, most especially in the way it functions as a channel of engagement and public discourse, is by definition an agency of cultural change, I have been reluctant to use this blog as a forum for advocating explicit change of any one type. Perpetuating the relevance of folk as an agenda in and of itself, it seems to me, precludes taking sides for any particular agenda which might be carried by folk, lest we alienate opposing values, and in doing so, diminish the potential of folk to remain dialogic.

But it’s pledge drive time at our local radio station, and the Nobel Prize selection committee does seem to have a set criteria for signatories and public outcry as an establishing principle for prize consideration. And it’s hard to imagine anyone genuinely untouched by the compassionate, tireless work in the name of human dignity, empowerment, and awareness which Pete Seeger continues to consider his life’s work after over sixty years as a recording artist and activist.

So when my mother, who once used Seeger’s songs as a vehicle for planting the seeds of peace and justice in both myself and in the inner city classrooms of New York City, became the most recent in a long series of folks to remind me of the recent petition to recognize Pete’s long-standing contribution to social, environmental, and political change, it seemed like the right time to use the soapbox to do some particular good.

Though there are parallels to be made between the community ownership of song upon which this blog is predicated, and the ways in which Pete Seeger‘s work has bridged time and space to touch and affect the rest of us, one one level, honoring this particular life’s work is made more challenging by our focus on coversong. For, though there are certainly tunes that one can point to as written by Seeger during his long career, the question of coverage and song origin is complex and unclear in much of Seeger’s catalog.

Which is to say: the son of an ethnomusicologist and a true believer in folk as a mechanism for tying past to future, perhaps more than any artist in history, Seeger has lived folk song as if it truly did belong to the community for which it speaks. As such, Seeger’s contribution to folk was one of popularization as much as songcraft; many of the songs he is best known for have their origin in the past, and much of his better-known works, like Turn, Turn, Turn, use older components to create new works. Even Seeger’s own greatest hits album combines songs written by Pete Seeger with songs popularized by Seeger. And even the better tribute albums out there mix songs which Seeger actually wrote with songs which he made his own.

None of this precludes consideration from the Nobel folks, of course; indeed, it is Seeger’s deep sense of the social and folk environment as both purposeful and shared by all of us which is perhaps the most powerful case for his recognition. As such, first and foremost, the aim of today’s post is to ask all of you to take a moment and — in the name of folk itself — sign your name to the petition asking the Nobel Prize Committee to consider Pete Seeger for this year’s Nobel Peace Prize in recognition of his tireless work sowing the seeds of peace.

But of course, you also come here for the music. And there are some great tributes out there, most notably the three sets which the activist-founded, socially conscious folklabel Appleseed Recordings has released in a scant decade of existence; I’m especially enamored of double-disk first release Where Have All The Flowers Gone: The Songs Of Pete Seeger, which in addition to the Ani DiFranco and Bruce Cockburn covers below includes a veritable who’s who of big-name inheritors of the activist folkmantle, from Richie Havens and Odetta to Springsteen and Billy Bragg.

Someday, I aspire to the time and energy it would take to approach a proper post on the central influence Pete Seeger and his family — from father Charles (the ethnomusicologist) to half-siblings Peggy and Mike to half-nephew Neill MacColl and grandson Tao Rodriguez of the Mammals — have had in defining and continuing to define folk music as a social and political engine of change for almost a century. In the meanwhile, here’s a set of personal favorites with a much simpler organizing principle: songs which other folk artists of a certain political bent have learned from or associate with Pete Seeger himself, regardless of authorship, and have recorded in deliberate tribute to this long-standing folk icon.

*removed at artist/label request.

Folk and social consciousness go hand in hand; to support one is to support the other. If you have ever been moved by folksong, sign the petition — technically, a petition “to persuade [the] American Friends Service Committee to enter Pete Seeger as their nominee for the Nobel Peace Prize 2008 ” — and in doing so help make the case for both Seeger and the folk process itself as an agency of peace. Then, head on over to Appleseed Recordings for the opportunity to purchase Seeger’s work, the aforementioned cover albums, and a whole host of other folksongs from a growing stable of socially aware artists actively engaged in using folk music to change the world for the better.

Want more? Today’s bonus coversongs offer a tiny, tiny taste of Seeger as political song interpreter, just in case you’re still young enough to have never really encountered his own continued celebration of his folkpeers and ancestors:

Cover Lay Down publishes new materials Sundays, Wednesdays, and the occasional otherday. Join us this weekend as we celebrate one year of coverfolk blogging.

1,112 comments » | ani difranco, Bruce Cockburn, Eric Bibb, Holly Near, Joan Baez, Kate and Anna McGarrigle, Marlene Dietrich, Natalie Merchant, Pete Seeger, richard shindell, The Mammals, Tony Trischka

Guestfolk: In the clearing stands a boxer…

May 21st, 2008 — 03:07 am


Hi everybody. I’m Jamie from Fong Songs, a cover blog you may know since Boyhowdy has been over once or twice (or thrice) to guest post. Unless I completely imagined it, there was an open invitation at some point for me to return the favour and guest post here on Cover Lay Down. Boyhowdy’s still hampered with technical difficulties at the moment, so it’s a perfect excuse for me to step into his usual Wednesday timeslot and lay down some folk covers for you. If you go back to the very first post ever on Cover Lay Down, Boyhowdy once praised my “incredible ability to compile cross-genre coverlists the likes of which [he's] never seen”. That just warms my little ego, but I think what he’s getting it at is that I sometimes come up with bizarre excuses to thematically link random cover songs. With the prospect of producing an all-folk cover post, I struggled to come up with an appropriately Fong Songs-esque theme of folk covers, but luckily whatever I do is inherently Fong Songs-esque.

As Boyhowdy can attest to, the definition of folk music is rather elusive with modern folk festivals pushing the boundaries of what’s considered folk music. I’ve gone with some relatively safe bets: Dylan, Simon & Garfunkel, and a couple “man and an acoustic guitar” covers. I strongly associate folk music with storytelling and that certainly applies to the following batch of cover songs… even if it’s the story of Rocky Balboa.

Today on Cover Lay Down: tales of boxers as told via folk covers.

  • Ani DiFranco, Hurricane (orig. Bob Dylan)
    
In 1966, Rubin “Hurricane” Carter, a pro middleweight boxer, was arrested and later convicted for a grisly triple murder, a crime for which he steadfastly maintained his innocence. In 1974 while in prison he wrote his autobiography, which inspired Bob Dylan to take up his cause and write this protest song. Eventually he was released on appeal in 1985 after nearly 20 years in prison. Canadian filmmaker Norman Jewison directed a film version of Carter’s story, 1999′s Hurricane, with Denzel Washington in the title role. Even though there was controversy regarding the fictional liberties taken in the film (in addition to debate of Carter’s innocence in the first place), I remember it being an excellent film with strong acting as usual from Mr. Washington who seems to be drawn to these real-life roles. Just don’t ask me what really happened.

  • Lucas, Harry Kein (orig. Bob Dylan)
    Here’s an acoustic Spanish language cover of Hurricane by a musician that simply goes as Lucas. My Spanish is downright non-existent, so for all I know this very well may be a Spanish parody about a guy named Harry Kein.
  • Colin Linden, The Boxer (orig. Simon & Garfunkel)
    I remember taking my dad’s Simon & Garfunkel’s Greatest Hits CD, lying in the dark, and cranking The Boxer on my discman. Li-la-li, kaBOOOM! Still gives me shivers when I’m in a particular mood. I first heard this cover by Colin Linden (woo, Canadian content!) during the end credits of the Coen Brothers film Intolerable Cruelty. I’m somewhat notorious among friends for lingering around to watch movie credits and sometimes it’s just because I’m listening to the music (plus the song credits always come at the very end!).
  • Bob Dylan, The Boxer (orig. Simon & Garfunkel)
    I’m not particularly well-versed in the Bob Dylan canon, so needless to say I was shocked to hear this “other” voice he sometimes sings with, completely unrecognizable from the oft parodied Dylan vocals. From 1970′s poorly received Self Portrait, a double album of mostly cover songs, Dylan takes on the now classic ballad by Simon & Garfunkel, though the original itself had only been recorded in the previous year. Some have speculated that Paul Simon actually wrote The Boxer about Bob Dylan, but there doesn’t seem to be any solid evidence behind this claim.

  • Josh Joplin, Eye of the Tiger (orig. Survivor)
    
This great acoustic cover is from the Australian cover compilation Andrew Denton’s Musical Challenge, which features artists covering unlikely songs. Want to hear children’s group The Wiggles cover Lou Reed? Now you know where to go.

Today’s bonus coversongs (and bonus non-coversongs):

  • Cassius Clay, Stand By Me (orig. Ben E. King)
    Yes, Muhammad Ali recorded an album titled I Am the Greatest under his birth name Cassius Clay in 1963 at age 21 before his name change and even before he became World Heavyweight Champion. I haven’t actually heard the whole thing, but I understand it’s a spoken word album with poetry readings, sketches, and him answering questions from a live audience. The track listing includes titles such as I Am the Double Greatest, Funny You Should Ask, and Will The Real Sonny Liston Please Fall Down. Luckily for our purposes, Ali also recorded a cover song of Ben E. King’s classic Stand By Me.

  • Bette Midler, Boxing (orig. Ben Folds Five)
    From their debut self-titled album, Ben Folds wrote this poignant song about an imaginary conversation between Muhammad Ali and Howard Cosell, in which Ali contemplates hanging up the gloves. Probably the only studio-released cover of any Ben Folds Five song is by, of all people, Bette Midler, who recorded this for her 1998 album Bathhouse Betty.

  • Friendly Rich & The Lollipop People, The Ballad of George Chuvalo
    Meet George Chuvalo, he’s from Toronto, he is the hero of this here story.

    And so begins the tale of George Chuvalo, legendary Canadian heavyweight champion who twice went toe to toe with Muhammad Ali, though lost both by decision. Known for having never been knocked down in the ring in 93 fights during a professional career that spanned over 20 years, perhaps his greatest legacy evolved outside the ring. As told in this tribute by Ontario musicians Friendly Rich & The Lollipop People, Chuvalo tragically lost three of his sons and his wife in drug-related deaths (full story in this in-depth Maclean’s article). True to his stalwart nature, since 1995 Chuvalo became a tireless anti-drug advocate and today still gives talks to students, parents, and other support groups. In 1998, he was appointed to the Order of Canada for his work. Visit George Chuvalo’s Fight Against Drugs for more on Chuvalo’s story and cause.

  • Colin Linden, George Chuvalo
    Colin Linden, who is also one-third of folk group Blackie & The Rodeo Kings, wrote his own tribute to George Chuvalo. Little bit of trivia for you: Chuvalo took on some bit parts in films over the years including a bar patron named Marky who has an ill-fated arm wrestling match with Jeff Goldblum in David Cronenberg’s The Fly. Check the CBC digital archives for numerous fascinating video and audio clips of George Chuvalo including the original CBC radio broadcast of his fight with Ali and his 1977 appearance on a CBC talk show with his thoughts on the newly released Rocky. Amusingly, when he’s introduced by host Peter Gzowski, the house band plays a 15 second muzak version of The Boxer as Chuvalo walks on stage.

Thanks to Boyhowdy for letting me stop by and share some folk covers with you. Hopefully his computer issues get sorted out soon!

71 comments » | ani difranco, Ben E. King, Ben Folds, Bette Midler, Bob Dylan, Cassius Clay, Colin Linden, Friendly Rich and The Lollipop People, Guest Posts, Josh Joplin, Lucas, Simon and Garfunkel, Survivor

Mothers of the Folkworld: Suzanne Vega, Ani DiFranco, Lori McKenna, Kris Delmhorst

May 10th, 2008 — 09:16 pm

Katrina, Narissa, and Amelia Nields, Clearwater Folk Festival, 2005

As a volunteer for performer check-in at Falcon Ridge Folk Festival for several years, I had the rare privilege of meeting the children of several notable folk musicians, from Lucy Kaplansky’s adopted daughter to Katrina Nields’ newborn. Seeing my favorite musicians up close and personal was always a treat. But seeing folk musicians in parenting mode always felt like peering behind the curtain of the public persona to something real. And once you see that part of a musician, it flavors the way you hear their songs from that day forward.

The confessional, personal nature of folk music lends itself well to songs of family and parenthood; as I’ve written about previously, I have a special fondness for music which speaks to that side of life. But it’s got to be especially difficult to be a mother who makes her living out of music. Working mothers have it hard no matter what, but musicianship isn’t like other careers: the late-night shows, the marathon recording sessions, the constant need for one more focused, childless hour crafting song, all stand in tension with the closeness and availability good parenting demands of us.

Yet the folkworld is full of female musicians who — with or without the help of sensitive, often stay-at-home dads — work their touring schedules around the various and sundry blessings of childrearing, from nursing and naps to school plays and graduations. Previously featured folkmothers include Caroline Herring, Lucy Kaplansky, Rani Arbo, Shawn Colvin, and Cindy Kallet: some of my favorites, and a significant percentage of the women who we’ve featured here on Cover Lay Down.

I can’t imagine what it must be like to sing a song to your child in front of ten thousand people, or, like Dar Williams did at Falcon Ridge last year, to bring them up on stage, so they can see what you see. And I can’t imagine what it must be like to give birth, or to head out on tour for a week without your child.

But I trust that the blogworld is surely swimming with songs about mothers this weekend. And in the midst of all that, I thought it was important to remind us all that the reason we’re here, on Mother’s Day and every day, is because a few daring, real people — people with families, with hopes and fears, with love enough to share — have chosen to make their living making the music that fills our world. And, notably, this is a career path where neither family health insurance nor maternity leave policies are the norm.

Today, as a tribute to working moms everywhere, we bring you some coversongs of and from a few more singer-songwriters with children of their own. As always, if you like what you hear, please support these artists and their families by purchasing their albums, heading out to their shows, and treating them as real people whenever possible.

Lori McKenna was already a mother of three when she stepped in front of her first open mic audience at the age of 27; since then, she has spent most of her career playing part-time in the local New England folk circuit, staying close to home while slowly making a name for herself with a growing set of well-crafted songs that celebrate the simple pleasures of life as a struggling middle class homemaker.

Though McKenna recently turned country, resetting her down-to-earth lyrics to a newly countrified sound and touring as an opening act for Faith Hill and Tim McGraw, her long tenure in the folkworld and her constant celebration of a vividly real motherhood earns her the lead-off spot on today’s list. We featured McKenna sideman Mark Erelli’s cover of McKenna’s Lonestar earlier this week; here’s a gritty lo-fi take on Radiohead’s Fake Plastic Trees from The Kitchen Tapes, and a much more polished but no less authentic look back at Peter Gabriel’s In Your Eyes from out of print American Laundromat compilation High School Reunion.

For a while there, Suzanne Vega was on the fast track to become the most prolific and popular folk musician to come out of the second-wave Greenwich Village folk scene in the early eighties; she is probably best known for Luka, her late 80s hit about a neighbor’s abused child. But if you haven’t heard much from her in a decade or so, it’s because she decided to curtail her touring and recording significantly in 1994 in order to focus on her family after her daughter Ruby was born. Since then, she has produced only three albums of new material; the songs have gotten even more introspective, but her quality hasn’t suffered one bit.

Here’s Vega’s take on two delicate songs about children from Grateful Dead tribute album Deadicated, plus some great duet work with John Cale on an old Leonard Cohen standard.

Urban folk feminist Ani DiFranco is a relatively new mother and ferocious touring machine who has taken a non-traditional path to motherhood even for the musicworld; instead of taking a hiatus to focus on recording and parenting, as so many other musicians have done, Ani brings her daughter with her as she tours. The model seems to be working — Ani and family just made the cover of the most recent issue of Mothering magazine — but other than this concert video of new song Present/Infant from her new DVD Live at Babeville, Ani has not yet recorded any of the new songs about motherhood which she has performed at her recent shows. So here’s a few random covers of Ani DiFranco songs, including a great version of Joyful Girl, a song DiFranco wrote to honor her own mother, performed by jam band Soulive with Dave Matthews.

A swollen belly and a June due date make Massachusetts-based singer-songwriter and folk producer Kris Delmhorst an impending member of the folk musician mother club, but motherhood is already starting to affect her career; she was showing when I saw her at the Iron Horse a few months ago, and these days, she’s rushing through a few dates in support of her new and absolutely stunning album Shotgun Singer before she goes on family leave. We’ve played cuts from Delmhorst here before, in recognition of her work with Peter Mulvey and father-to-be Jeffrey Foucault as part of folk trio Redbird; today, it’s Kris’ turn to glow with this fine, twangy interpretation of an old spiritual tune, and a sweet collaborative turn on Tom Waits’ Hold On.

Thanks to folkmusic.about.com for their feature on Folk Music Moms, which served as today’s writing prompt. For more about volunteering at Falcon Ridge this July, check out the festival website. Oh, and if you’re reading this, Happy Mother’s Day, Mom.

1,009 comments » | Alana Davis, Allison Crowe, ani difranco, Dave Matthews, Grateful Dead, Kris Delmhorst, Leonard Cohen, Lori McKenna, Peter Gabriel, Radiohead, Soulive, Suzanne Vega, Tom Waits

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

Dar Williams Covers: Springsteen, The Kinks, Pink Floyd, The Beatles…

December 23rd, 2007 — 10:46 pm


It took me a while to get into Dar Williams. The way she plays with the strong break between her bold lower tones and her breathy upper register is an acquired taste. Her songwriting is generally wry and poignant, but it takes more than one skim-the-surface listen to appreciate its complexity. She tends towards strong, heavy production, which attracts a younger alt-folk crowd, but can overwhelm her well-crafted, literate lyrics.

But at her best, Dar is an incredible artist. Her songwriting and her stage presence are so raw and fragile, it’s like what it must have been like to see Joni Mitchell during her Blue period. She picks distinctive, powerful voices for harmony, weaves a rich, complex tapestry to tell her strum and story. Her work is the soundtrack of my soul. Her music is listenable, mature, and strong, and it bears repeating.

Dar is flat-out incredible live. I’ve seen her half a dozen times, maybe, and she just radiates good cheer and a cute, puppy-dog-awkward stage discomfort that makes you want to root for her. When she plays Falcon Ridge Folk Festival, she always asks the field to light up their cellphones and lighters all-at-once when she does “Iowa”, and there’s that created moment where she’s just awestruck and gasping, and you cry there in the dark, for the beauty of it all.

I was hoping to find a bootlegged copy of Dar covering the Cat Stevens song Peace Train this summer on stage at FRFF with the Slambovian Circus of Dreams. Alas, we’ll just have to go on without it. Happily, there’s plenty of coverlove to put forth, from the sweet, poignant Pierce Pettis cover Family to the urban popfolk ride of the Kinks’ Better Things — both of which Dar makes so much her own I didn’t realize they were covers when I first heard them. Plus great covers of Springsteen, The Beatles, The Band, Nick Lowe, Pink Floyd, and some bonus songs, as always: supergroup Cry, Cry, Cry, a cover of a Dar song by the very first artist we ever featured here on Cover Lay Down, and another cover of that Kinks song. And don’t forget to head back to last month’s archives to pick up Dar’s folkrockin’ cover of David Bowie’s Starman after you’re finished here.

Dar Williams has just come out with a new live DVD, which includes a cover of the Grateful Dead song Ripple. Her management usually frowns on pre-release, so buy Live at Bearsville, and the rest of her amazing catalog, and find out for yourself how intimate and powerful Dar Williams can be.

Today’s bonus coversongs:


761 comments » | ani difranco, Bruce Springsteen, cry cry cry, Dar Williams, Fountains of Wayne, Nick Lowe, Peter Mulvey, Pierce Pettis, Pink Floyd, richard shindell