Cover Lay Down

Like Leonard Cohen’s Hallelujah, which was transformed in the popular imagination by Jeff Buckley’s haunting version of John Cale’s cover, there is a plurality of high-profile, popularly dominant sources for These Days, Jackson Browne’s melancholy yet ultimately optimistic tribute to the general malaise and lonesome depression that characterizes the soul after a long relationship has come to an inevitable end. But where in the case of Halellujah the versions which rose to obscure the original were recorded long afterward, in the case of These Days, Nico’s version was recorded first, in 1967, with Browne on acoustic guitar and Velvet Underground chums Cale and Reed on everything else — making Jackson Browne’s 1973 version a dubious original, despite real popularity in and out of his fan base.

As such, cover versions of These Days tend to fall into two camps: those that cover Nico, and those that cover Jackson Browne. The former seem more popular among a certain indiefolk crowd, especially after her version lent hipster cred to the soundtrack for The Royal Tannenbaums, calling us back to it’s fragile, anxious, somewhat spacey sound; you can hear the secondhand influence of Nico in more recent covers from fringefolkers Kathryn Williams, St. Vincent, and Mates of State. Meanwhile, fellow seventies icons Gregg Allman and Kate Wolf clearly have Browne’s slow, simple poetics and clear, open-hearted delivery in mind; so, a generation later, do relative newcomers Denison Witmer, Fountains of Wayne, and Tyler Ramsey.

But as others have pointed out long before me, the bifurcated trunk of the musical tree that is These Days versions is relevant to an evolution of song not only because of the curious history, but because the choices made in each version affect the meaning of the song. And here we are not just talking musical interpretation, either: Nico’s version is lyrically different as well as musicially distinct, and the lost second-person subject of the penultimate line, the focus on belief (I don’t think I’ll risk another) over feeling (It’s so hard to risk another), changes the narrator into someone more narcissistic, less historied, and — some believe — less believable overall.

From a coverblog perspective, then, sourcing each cover becomes merely an exercise in lyrical attention. And though a few seem to be applying Nico’s lyric to Browne’s tone, as in Johnny Darrell‘s country cover; most, such as the aforementioned, go whole hog for one side or the other. Only a very few more recent covers arguably attempt to transcend both — most notably Barbara Manning’s acoustic electronica, and Brandon Seyferth’s comprehensively lo-fi musical rewrite.

But this is not to say that Nico’s version, and subsequent covers of it, are less viable as song: the delicate lyrical interpretation and breathless tension compensates, making tone serve where subject had before. Or is it afterwards? Either way, here’s the two prototypes — Nico’s, and a rare 1971 live recording from Browne, with his take on the song still raw and tentatively performed, plus his more familiar, more poignant 2005 live version, for diversity’s sake; the 1973 produced version is easily available — along with a hefty set of choice Single Song Sunday coversong from the usual wide assortment of folk, presented in no particular order, the better to appreciate each cover for what it is.

Enjoy, as always. Feel free to mention your favorite cover in the comments, or send it along via email if it’s not already here. And if you like what you hear, follow links above and below for websites and artist-preferred-source album-purchasing.

• Nico, These Days
  (from Chelsea Girl, 1967)

• Jackson Browne, These Days
  (live at the Jabberwocky Club in Syracuse, NY, March 1971)
• Jackson Browne, These Days
  (from Solo Acoustic Vol. 1, 2005)
• Kathryn Williams, These Days
  (from Relations, 2004)
• Tyler Ramsey, These Days
  (from A Long Dream About Swimming Across The Sea, 2008)
• Denison Witmer, These Days
  (from Recovered, 2003)
• Kate Wolf, These Days
  (live 1979; collected on Looking Back At You, 1994)
• Gregg Allman, These Days
  (from Laid Back, 1973)
• Barbara Manning, These Days
  (orig. from a 1989 7″; more Barbara Manning here)
• Mates of State, These Days
  (from the Wicker Park Soundtrack, 2004; also this split bill 7″)
• Brandon Seyferth, These Days
  (from Hot Heels Records EP, 2006)
• Fountains of Wayne, These Days
  (from B-sides release Out of State Plates, collected 2005)
• St. Vincent, These Days
  (from the tour-only EP Paris Is Burning, 2006; more St.V here)
• Johnny Darrell, These Days
  (from Singin’ It Lonesome: The Very Best of 1965-1970)

We’ll be back Wednesday, possibly with that subgenre coverfolk post I alluded to a few weeks ago. Also coming soon: more old songs from new artists, a bit of bluegrass, and a look at this year’s New England folk festivals. In the meantime, stay sane, and don’t forget to enter our Sarah McLachlan contest!

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, Family (orig. Pierce Pettis)
• Dar Williams, All Men Are Liars (orig. Nick Lowe)
• Dar Williams, Better Things (orig. The Kinks)
• Dar Williams, You Won’t See Me (orig. The Beatles)
• Dar Williams, Highway Patrolman (orig. Springsteen)
• Dar Williams, Whispering Pines (orig. The Band)
• Dar Williams w/ ani difranco, Comfortably Numb (orig. Pink Floyd)
  

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:

• Dar’s live version of Better Things, for comparison’s sake
• Fountains of Wayne covers Better Things, too
• Peter Mulvey covers Dar’s Ocean
• Richard Shindell covers Dar’s Calling the Moon
• Dar takes the lead from songwriter Richard Shindell on Cry, Cry, Cry’s cover of Shindell’s The Ballad of Mary Magdalen

You can’t get much farther from the stripped-down authenticity of folk music than the lip-synch spectacle of top 40 pop songs; the odd Springsteen or Dylan anomaly aside, the stuff we favor on Cover Lay Down doesn’t see mass market radio play. But that doesn’t necessarily make every folk cover of every song originally performed by a half-naked ex-Mouseketeer a joke. A good song is a good song is a good song — and sometimes it takes a jolt to the system to allow the listener to bring new meaning to the overly familiar.

To prove this theory, for our Halloween special, I went in search of the most disturbing set of folk covers I could imagine.

Folk covers of Britney Spears songs.

And the scariest part is, some of them are quite good.

Some are not, of course. It’s hard to make meaning out of something played to death, harder still to keep the MTV imagery from invading the brain, corrupting any sincere attempt at rehabilitating a popsong. It’s easier to make a joke out of the familiar instead, making easy laughs and easier cash on a novelty act.

Today, in an attempt to explore this admittedly simplistic model for envisioning the pop cover song’s purpose, we bring you a double trio of folked-up Britney cuts: the merely covered, and the genuinely recovered. Some may make you weep. Some will make you laugh. One or two will make you wonder why Max Martin (the man behind the Britney throne) is wasting his time writing tunes which will never be truly appreciated by anyone above the age of fourteen.

My recommendation: listen to each of these through, tricks and treats alike, until you can truly appreciate them for the meaning their coverartists bring. Even novelty is worth something. And plucking a tired backbeat from the radio to breathe new and vibrant life into it, making something golden out of something glittery? In the world of coversongs, it’s the holy grail.

Let’s start, then, with the good stuff. Ladies and Gentlemen, we bring you Britney Spears, recovered.

• Stevie Ann, Toxic
  Netherlands native Stevie Ann — my current music-crush — covers Toxic as a lush, poignant paean to poisoned love. The link here is the produced version, courtesy of Guuzbourg of french girlsinger blog Filles Sourires; but you can and should also see an absolutely incredible live-on-the-radio cover sans saxophone over at Coverville, after which you, too, will wonder why this young woman is still only touring in her native country.

• Richard Thompson, Oops! I Did It Again
  In the “original” live recording of Richard Thompson‘s version of Oops! I Did It Again, off coveralbum 1000 Years of Popular Music, his audience thinks he’s making fun of the song. This much tighter solo cut from an NPR session reveals otherwise. Thompson’s rough voice, loose tempo, and all-around angst bring just the right note of self-flagellation and regret to the tune. Originally via always great oft-folk musicblog The Late Greats.
• Fountains Of Wayne, Hit Me Baby One More Time
  Okay, Fountains Of Wayne isn’t folk, but I’ve missed the band at two folk festivals so far, so I’m going to allow it. Their all-male electrified alt-geekrock version of Hit Me Baby One More Time turns what had been a dubiously anti-feminist anthem of love at all costs into a soft plea for the sensitive guy trying to make sense of a world full of Britney-lovers.

Second verse, same as the first — but where the folktunes above are genuinely successful attempts to rescue surprisingly decent songs, these either play the songs for laughs, tongue firmly in cheek, or try to interpret beyond their reach.

• The BossHoss, Toxic
  Kitschmeisters The BossHoss, Germany’s bluegrass/country/rock answer to Richard Cheese, take on Toxic. They’re tight, and worth the novelty, but really, if you’ve heard one Hayseed Dixie, you’ve heard them all. Still, their cover choices are fun; kudos to Motel De Moka, the music blog with a knack for the perfect themed playlist, for spreading this around just when I needed a pick-me-up.

• Fuck, Oops! I Did It Again
  I don’t know much about the unfortunately-named Fuck, and if this lo-fi, experimental cover is any indication of their prowess and style, I’m okay with that. The subtle vibes and cello (and wind machine?) aren’t bad, but the plodding speed only underscores the overly simple, maudlin interpretation. Thanks to coverblogger extraordinaire Copy, Right? for originally posting this, though — everything’s worth trying once.
• Travis, Hit Me Baby One More Time
  Travis‘ live attempt to unplug and slow down Hit Me Baby One More Time turns silly far too quickly. Bad sign: the band starts out trying to play it straight, but can’t keep from cracking up when they hit the falsetto call and response of the chorus. Worse: they seem ruefully surprised at their own laughter, despite the fact that they clearly rehearsed the vocals.

As always here on Cover Lay Down, all artist links above lead to artist websites, which in turn lead to the artists’ preferred source for music-purchasing. Follow these links — and the links to other coverblogs scattered throughout — for the best door-to-door treats around.

You’re on your own for buying Britney, though. Some things are too scary, even for Halloween.