One Good Year: Sweet Coversongs Celebrating One Year of Cover Lay Down

I didn't deliberately time the creation of this blog to coincide with the Jewish New Year, a day of celebration and renewal ordinarily commemorated through consumption of apples and honey in hopes of a sweet new year to come. Indeed, given the odd lunar cycle of the Jewish calendar, it is purely coincidental that we find ourselves here today, once again looking back and looking forward, in the midst of a more spiritual mandate to do the same.

Problematically, however, I said it all pretty clearly back at the six-month mark. Saying so here profusely would be redundant. But having spent all day in temple, it's hard to separate the very personal feelings of gratitude and mindfulness I feel at making it to my one year anniversary as a music blogger from the themes of change and community grounding which I have spent the morning pondering.

As such, where I used the half-year anniversary of Cover Lay Down as an opportunity to thank those vast and myriad influences and constituencies who have made me feel so welcome over these many months -- the artists, labels, fellow bloggers, and readers like yourself -- today, instead of merely repeating those same sentiments, I thought I'd take a moment to reflect on the blogger himself.

Because blogging has changed me.

My creative writing profs weren't wrong when they said that fundamentally, writers write -- that is, what makes a writer a writer, rather than just the originator of text, is not so much any innate quality but the honed craft that comes from exercise and sweat. I've heard it from songwriters, too, most recently from Kristen Andreassen: write the songs, and the best of them will emerge; write less, and less gems will hide among the lessened chaff. I do not claim to be a perfect writer, but I think I am coming to master my own flaws as an observer and chronicler of music, and how it connects to the world around us. And I am grateful, to all of you, for the continued validation of that writing which mere readership brings, let alone the kind words which artists and commenters have given me in thanks for writing.

Blogging about music, in particular, has also brought about a change in my listening habits. Where once I was content to leave things on shuffle, now I spend at least as much time making connections, searching for common threads, and immersing myself in the deep pools of a single artist's output, that I might be able to truly describe in words what "works" for me about the song.

The immersive approach means less time for novelty -- the trickle of label gems that currently finds its way to my mailbox is small by blogger standards, but more than ample enough for my habit. I've had to really push myself to attend shows and festivals these last few months, that I might discover new artists and songs to pass along to you; if it weren't for a great set of bloggers out there I have learned to trust, I'd worry that I was falling into a rut, musically speaking.

But approaching music this way engenders a kind of listening which is wonderfully deep and immersive, and treating all music as potential blogfodder also means that I live my life as if I was blessed with two choice opportunities for making the perfect themed mixtape every week. And as those who grew up in the mixtape era know, there's nothing more engrossing, no better opportunity for making connections between the soul and the music, than the quest for the perfect set of music, whether the planned motif is a single artist or a single song, a theme or a tribute.

In theory, focusing on what I know and can connect also means accepting the vast breadth of what is out there as both unknown and unknowable -- the more you know, the more you don't. For me, this has made it easier to accept the time and energy it takes to really focus on the moment granted by a single artist, sound, and song as a blessing, and be grateful for it. My recent trip to ICONS was better unplanned; by not worrying about making sure I was seeing the "right" artists, for example, I found myself in a tiny performance space, listening to a few great young artists out of the Boston fiddle-folk scene who will surely come up later here at Cover Lay Down.

If such focus is the goal, then I'll be the first to admit that I've lost a bit of my focus over the past few weeks. It's been a selfish period, I guess, what with my recent grief, and the stress of starting a new job; writing has always been easier than listening for me, and I'm afraid I've let the writing, not the song connections, become the focus a bit too often. Soon, I hope, I'll be able to return to blogging with a primary focus on songwriters and songs, rather than the themed lists which have recently overwhelmed this blog. In the coming weeks, for example, I hope to be able to bring more new artists to the table, and more features on both the songs and the performance of lesser-known folk musicians who deserve the recognition.

But though today is a day of renewal, it is also just the beginning; there's a reason why the liminal doorway opens for the next nine days in Judaism, rather than demanding that we return to our true, best selves all at once. In gratitude, then, for the opportunity, while I rewire the self for a continued focus on folk artists and their coversong, here's one more long-winded post capped by another list of sweet coverfolk songs with a common topic, in hopes and well-wishes for a sweet new year.

Please, as always, treat these songs as but a marvelous taste of the work of some great artists, each of whom deserves your full (and financial) support. Played in order, they transition smoothly from folkpop to indiefolk by way of alt-country, bluesfolk, and a little freak folk; if you like them, just imagine the three dozen songs I rejected on my way towards making this one perfect blogbirthday mixtape.

May the new year bring sweetness, change, and a return to the true self for all of us.

• Joan Osborne: How Sweet It Is (orig. Marvin Gaye)
  High-production folkpop from honorary Grateful Dead member Joan Osborne via her radio-ready 2002 covers album How Sweet It Is.
  
  
• Bonnie Raitt and Jackson Browne: Kisses Sweeter Than Wine (orig. The Weavers)
  Pulsing folk rock with a reggae beat from old folkies and old friends Raitt and Browne. From an aforementioned Seeger tribute.
  
  
• Girlyman: My Sweet Lord (orig. George Harrison)
  A reposted favorite from the exquisite harmonies of alt-folk and alt-sexual trio Girlyman's Remember Who I Am.
  
  
• Taken By Trees: Sweet Child O' Mine (orig. Guns 'n Roses)
  Lovely atmospheric guitar-and-pianofolk; new "band" Taken By Trees is actually Victoria Bergsman, ex-member of the Concretes and the female vocalist from last year's indiefolk smash single Young Folks.
  
  
• Nancy Elizabeth: Sweet Jesus (orig. James Yorkston)
  This gorgeous quietfolk with bells on from young UK scenester Nancy Elizabeth shines on the recent album of covers accompanying Yorkston's When The Haar Rolls In.
  
  
• 6202 Ellen Ave.: Sweet Lorraine (orig. Patty Griffin)
  6206 Ellen Ave was a one-off collaborative project from Josh Ritter, Bridget Matros, and Guy Mendilow while they were all at Oberlin; covering Patty Griffin's slower work is tricky, but sophomore Matros had the chops and the right note of weariness. Sadly, after a short career on the folkscene, she has since lost her voice to acid reflux disease. (More about Matros, and some earlier covers, here.)
  
  
• Emmylou Harris: Sweet Old World (orig. Lucinda Williams)
  A weary alt-country ballad from queen of country coverfolk Emmylou Harris, just one of many reasons to own 1995 Grammy-winner Wrecking Ball.
  
  
• Laura Cantrell: The Whiskey Makes You Sweeter (orig. Amy Allison)
  Slow countryfolk slowdance from previously featured singer-songwriter, DJ, and equal rights activist Laura Cantrell.
  
  
• Guy Davis: Sweetheart Like You (orig. Bob Dylan)
  Mellow, rich bluesfolk complete with accordian and Guy Davis' rough barroom rasp, an underrated cut from my favorite Dylan tribute album.
  
  
• Karen Dalton: Sweet Substitute (orig. Jellyroll Morton)
  Wonderfully out of tune, slightly psychedelic bluesfolk in the unmistakable key of late sixties icon and folkmuse Karen Dalton.
  
  
• The Weird Weeds: Sweet Thing (orig. Van Morrison)
  Eerie experimental electrofolk from free 2005 Weird Weeds EP This Is Not What You Want.

Death, Impending: Coversongs for an old friend

I was planning to use this weekend's entry to celebrate the impending one year anniversary of Cover Lay Down. But last night the cat turned up yowling pitifully under the shrubbery along the front porch, and he wouldn't come out. We couldn't find a flashlight; in the end, my wife lit a tiny candle in the rain, I heaved aside the overgrowth, and she reached into the darkness to reel him in, his body limp.

That he didn't tear us to shreds as we extricated him from the shrubbery was tellingly out of character. When we finally pulled him into the house, he was too unsteady to walk. When he tried to take a drink, he slumped against the edge of the bowl, tipping it into himself.

We tried to make him comfortable in a crate, and headed upstairs to bed, but at four, my sleepless spouse couldn't take it any more. She bundled him up into the car, and drove almost an hour to the all-night vet clinic, where a battery of tests pointed to congestive heart failure, or worse.

Since then, we've spent an exhaustive day at the vets, a family waiting, gathering hope and losing it again, finally coming to accept the sad truth that after sixteen years of perfect health, Jacob is just too sick to go on for much longer. But I think we knew it in our hearts already, the moment we lost him to his nausea and pain. And though he is still technically with us now, the best we can do is make him comfortable, and hold him into the night.

I'm not a cat person, but Jacob's place in our lives has always been much bigger than furballs on the laundry, the occasional half-eaten mouse at the door. Once, the cat was our only child, adopted off the streets, loved against our better judgement. Back when we were working food service, living in sin out of a series of truly awful apartments, Jacob was the first thing that made us bigger than just ourselves, and we doted on him as he grew, carrying him over our shoulder even as we moved and stretched, until we finally began knocking him down the hierarchy to make room for a dog, and, later, our two beautiful girls.

In the last few years I've taken him for granted, focusing my energies on our own kids. I've pushed him away, claiming allergies and limited attention, even as his origin story became a favorite bedtime story for each of my children in turn. I regret that loss keenly tonight.

Now the kitty sleeps the drugged, logy sleep of the dying, his core temperature dropping, his kidneys burned out beyond repair. He hasn't eaten, and he won't walk. The girls went to bed all cried out, their faces puffy from a long day of disappointment; my wife's heart is broken, and we struggle to put words and brave faces to our grief as we ask the children to understand what it means to plan for painless death as a final gift of love.

But in the meantime, my small independent partner, brave mousehunter and constant companion, the only other man of the house, suffers in his newly-made bed. And since I cannot do anything else for him, I am left to grieve in the only way I know: by writing, and sharing, and praying out loud.

Grant me this forum, folks. It's all I have. We'll celebrate another day. For now, here's a short, slow playlist of loss, for a beloved family member's bedside vigil.

• Doug Marsch: Some Things Last A Long Time (orig. Daniel Johnston)
  
  
• Greg Brown w/ Bill Morrissey: He Was a Friend of Mine (trad./pop. Bob Dylan)
  
  
• Cat Power: He Was A Friend of Mine (ibid.)
  
  
• Susan Werner: Vincent (orig. Don McLean)
  
  
• Laura Cantrell: I'll Remember You (orig. Kui Lee)
  
  
• Jill Sobule: Don't Let Us Get Sick (orig. Warren Zevon)
  
  
• Eric Anderson: When I'm Gone (orig. Phil Ochs)
  
  
• Emmylou Harris: All My Tears (orig. Julie Miller)
  
  
• Emmylou Harris: Goodbye (orig. Steve Earle)
  
  
• De Dannan: Let It Be (orig. The Beatles)

Single Song Sunday: Wayfaring Stranger (On White Spirituals and The Religious Origins of Folk)

It is absolutely trivial to note that certain songs crop up over and over again in the folk collector's travels; after all, as our blog subtitle reminds us, when we talk about folk, we're talking about a form that by its very nature treats older songs and tunes as part of the communication which makes us community, available to all who lay claim to culture.

But just as true hitmaking is hardly formulaic, it's not often obvious what keeps a song in the stream. Our Single Song Sunday series explores the various facets of heavy coverage, as a lens into folk music as culture. Today, a short treatment of the oft-covered folk tune Wayfaring Stranger -- a song which the popular groupmind claims is "often classified as a "white spiritual" -- helps us examine the religious origins of folk.

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Throughout much of recorded history, religion has served communities as both as a community locus and as a carrier of song; as such, it is perhaps unsurprising to find a relationship of sorts between folk music and the church itself. As with any folk form, of course, context matters; to note that several songs commonly associated with Cat Stevens can be found in the Universalist Unitarian hymnal says something very different about both artist and religious community than pointing out that a move to the heavily Jewish neighborhoods of New York's Coney Island in the 1940s led to the recent release of a wonderful album of Woody Guthrie-penned Klezmer music.

To note that the folk song Wayfaring Stranger (or sometimes Poor Wayfaring Stranger) was first published in 1816 in the shape note tunebook Kentucky Harmony, which in turn was primarily an expansion of the work of John Wyeth and his two Repositories of Sacred Music, then, is to locate that song in the white spiritual canon -- which, in turn, calls us to the American white revivalist movements of the last few centuries, to consider the common threads of a form of folk product which includes The Sacred Shakers, the work of Doc Watson, and many other works and performers with roots in New England, Appalachia, and other American church-based communities.

Though it echoes similar terminology -- bluegrass gospel, most obviously -- the term white spiritual is striking and vivid; to be honest, I'm surprised to find that Google lists only a few uses of the term, most of which seem to be part of classical choral scholarship. The conceit that white audiences had their own spriritual song, which derived its rhythm and subject from their European ancestry, illuminates folk's origins in a way that is both new and suddenly fitting, creating a parallel path to modernity in stark contrast to the gospel folk which comes to us through african american blues music. Further, such a conceit says much about the context in which music evolved, and traveled, and spoke to and for the "folk"; exploring the term is a fine way to help reshuffle and rethink the origin of many songs which remain at the core of folk music today.

The semiotic implications of the term "white spiritual" do seem apt, when you think about it; so much of the folk which has its roots in the appalachian mountains and stark New England Shakers, after all, is about redemption, framing man's connection to man in the context of God. And Wayfaring Stranger is an especially interesting example of the white spiritual. Though other white spirituals may be more central to the form -- for example, our first Single Song Sunday subject, Amazing Grace -- Wayfaring Stranger is notable for being a song which does not as obviously call to its spiritual nature. Which is to say: though both songs ultimately play out the relationship between the internal sinner-self and the spiritual Father, the former is a hymn of the post-redemptive self, less about the more modern folk-as-call-to-complexity and more about morality-play.

But the humble determination of the pre-redemptive self which characterizes the narrative voice of Wayfaring Stranger is not uncommon to the narrative stance of many an old British folk ballad, from the pining lass of Fair William to the besworn folkmaiden and lusty, easily swayed folklad who so often stray, only to regret it, and come back to their God. Meanwhile, the plight of the poor wayfarer remains open and non-specific, an everyman's resolve pulling us in to folk communion. No wonder the song remains enticing; no wonder we find so many versions to pluck our fruit from.

In practice, whether or not you accept the label of "white spiritual" as applied to a song whose most famous version is in the voice of as haunted and searching a man as Johnny Cash, it is true that there is a certain emotional reverence common to all versions of the song. In fact, circularly, though there are as many ways to worship as there are men, and thus high diversity in the way different folk musicians choose to make Wayfaring Stranger their own, the question of what makes this particular song a white spiritual may be best answered by the consistent care with which all comers take on the song. To explore that commonality, and the variance in sound and tone and tempo that it nonetheless allows, here's some interesting takes on the song, a vast array of approaches to traditional material from the very big tent that is modern folk.

• Wayfaring Strangers: Wayfaring Stranger
  (swirling jazzgrass from Shifting Sands of Time)
  
  
• Kristin Hersh: Poor Wayfaring Stranger
  (torn altfolk from the In Shock EP)
  
  
• Eva Cassidy: Wayfaring Stranger
  (poignant bluesfolk recorded live in 1994; more Eva here)
  
  
• Papa M: Over Jordan
  (hushed indiefolk from Whatever, Mortal)
  
  
• Chris Scruggs: Wayfaring Stranger
  (dark twangfolk from the tour-only EP Tennessee; more Chris here)
  
  
• John Stirratt: Wayfaring Stranger
  (cavernous tradfolk from Old Town School of Folk Music Songbook Vol. 1; more from Wilco's bass player here)
  
  
• Estil C. Ball: The Poor Wayfaring Stranger
  (old fieldfolk collected by Lomax circa 1960; available here)
  
  
• Jack White: Wayfaring Stranger
  (appalachian fiddlefolk from Cold Mountain; more White Stripes here)
  
  
• Emmylou Harris: Wayfaring Stranger
  (bluesy countryfolk from Heartaches and Highways)
  
  
• Blanche: Wayfaring Stranger
  (slow-building psychfolk from If We Can't Trust The Doctors)
  
  
• Natalie Merchant: Poor Wayfaring Stranger
  (delicate neo-tradfolk from The House Carpenter's Daughter)
  
  
• Neko Case: Poor Wayfaring Stranger
  (pensive banjofolk of unknown live origin; more Neko Case here)
  
  
• Giant Sand: Wayfaring Stranger/ Fly Me To The Moon
  (weary hush-folk from Cash Covered; more Giant Sand here)
  
  
• The McKenzies: Wayfaring Stranger
  (earnest old folk from Tradigitally Yours)

Cover Lay Down will return Wednesday for a preview of this year's Irish Connections festival, featuring Alison Brown, Luka Bloom, Crooked Still, Solas, and more!

(Re)Covered VI: More Covers of and from Freak Folk, Gillian Welch, James Taylor, and Boxing Songs

A long weekend of solo parenting while my wife headed off to Sonoma County for a long-overdue vacation has left me too exhausted for deep thought. Happily, thanks to reader emails, new releases and new discoveries, I've got plenty of material for yet another installment of our popular (Re)Covered series, wherein we recover songs that dropped through the cracks too late to make it into the posts where they belonged.


A few weeks back, when my laptop went kablooie, Jamie -- host of the ever-miraculous coverblog Fong Songs -- stepped in to save the day with a fascinating guest themepost on Boxing coversongs. Jamie is one of the good guys, and he's been a great friend since we started Cover Lay Down, giving me an open invitation to share the occasional non-folk set of covers over at his place, and even encouraging his own readers to take advantage of our great promotion for artist-friendly music source Amie Street. So I was thrilled when his guest post turned out to be one of the most popular posts we've had here at Cover Lay Down. You guys have good taste.

As a tip of the hat to this fine coverblogging peer, here's two more covers of that most obvious Simon and Garfunkel classic from a few great women on the edge of the folkworld: the slow but bright post-country popfolk of Deana Carter (with vocals from Paul Simon's eldest son), and a surprisingly old-timey take from Emmylou Harris just dripping with tight countryfolk harmony.

• Deana Carter w/ Harper Simon, The Boxer (orig. Simon and Garfunkel)
  
• Emmylou Harris, The Boxer (ibid.)

Though our Subgenre Coverfolk feature on Freak Folk is long past, I continue to struggle with Freak Folk and its relationship to folk music writ large. I called it a subgenre when I blogged about it, but the lines around it remain fuzzy, and the question of whether this counts as folk or not remains too entwined with the new indie usurpation of the term "folk" for me to feel totally confident, even now, that I got it right.

Looking back, I think I agree that Iron and Wine probably doesn't belong in the roster, despite critical clumping, though I continue to believe that Sufjan shares more sensibility with Devendra Banhart, both as a performer and as a composer, than, say, Vetiver, who tend towards the electronic end of things. But looking at my ever-growing roster of song, I would have no problem including both "chamber pop" singer Antony and the Johnsons and "dream-folk" singer-songwriter Marissa Nadler in any feature on Freak Folk as a subgenre of folk music if I was to post it today. In addition to sharing Banhart's peculiar wavery lyrical delicacy, both go for a swim of sound which is mystical and grand and personal all at once. It's eminently folk, and eminently authentic. Freak Folk may be hard to describe, but this music matches my sense of what it is.

• Antony and the Johnsons, Knockin' On Heaven's Door (orig. Bob Dylan)
  
• Marissa Nadler, Famous Blue Raincoat (orig. Leonard Cohen)
  
• Marissa Nadler, Cortez the Killer (orig. Neil Young)

In the comments section of what was otherwise a pretty thorough exploration-through-covers of the songs of Gillian Welch way back in January, several folks mentioned that Over the Rhine covers Orphan Girl live in concert. Having just become a fan of these post-folkers after hearing (and reviewing) their holiday album, I spent the next few months gathering in bootlegs, and -- though the piano is a little heavy in spots -- have come to the conclusion that the "official" version from their Live from Nowhere, Vol. 2 album remains the best recording of a great, fleshed-out anthemic approach to this song.

While we're on the subject, how about another couple of covers of and from the mistress of the new "American Primitive" movement? It's a little to the left of center, as folk goes, but I just love this americana/ alt-country cover of Look at Miss Ohio from newcomers The New Frontiers. And I've been looking for an excuse to post Welch's dreamy cover of Townes Van Zandt's Pancho and Lefty for ages, since it combines one of my favorite songs with one of my absolute famous performers. (PS: Gillian Welch's entire catalog is newly available at Amie Street, too...)

• Over The Rhine, Orphan Girl (orig. Gillian Welch)
  
• The New Frontiers, Look at Miss Ohio (ibid.)
  
• Gillian Welch, Pancho and Lefty (orig. Townes van Zandt)

Finally, we've been slamming the feedreaders this week over at collaborative music blog Star Maker Machine with our Fifty States theme: I missed the Massachusetts connection, but was happy to provide a few great songs (originals and covers) for the likes of Rhode Island (Erin McKeown, Blossom Dearie, Jennifer O'Connor), North Dakota (Lyle Lovett), New Jersey (John Gorka, Cliff Eberhardt), and Virginia (Johnny Cash, Dave Alvin, and Crooked Still).

The planning process took me back to our Carolina Coverfolk series week; while I was there, I found I had missed a few great songs. I ended up choosing a favorite John Hartford song about North Carolina for Star Maker Machine. But since we're looking back, here's an old kidsong from North Carolina tradsong savior Doc Watson, and one more Sam Cooke cover from North Carolina emigrant James Taylor, that really shouldn't have been missed....plus a bonus pair: local singer-songwriter and labor activist Tom Juravich with a true campfire folk cover of James Taylor's Millworker, and a cover of Fire and Rain by alt-rock/pop/folk artist Dido, just because it made me totally rethink her musicianship.

• Doc Watson, My Grandfather's Clock (trad.)
  
• James Taylor, Everybody Loves to Cha Cha Cha (orig. Sam Cooke)
  
  
• Dido, Fire and Rain (orig. James Taylor)
  
• Tom Juravich, Millworker (ibid.)

Cover Lay Down is proud to support music through raising awareness, but musicians can't eat awareness. As such, all artist links above lead to websites and stores where you can buy music without having to support corporate cash cows that pay suits better than musicians. And if you're planning on going digital, remember, folks: Amie Street is not only cheaper than most download sources, it gives back 70% of all profits to artists. Use the code coverlaydown when you sign up for Amie Street, and you'll get three bucks towards your music purchase absolutely free!

Coming soon on Cover Lay Down: more folk covers of plenty more popstars, a tribute to my elder child (who turns six in a week and a half), something vaguely patriotic, and a few more single-track cover featurettes from some great new albums and artists which I just can't seem to shake, and wouldn't want to. And it's only two more weeks until Grey Fox Bluegrass Festival!

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Still here? Then P.S. and FYI, coverfans:

1. I don't usually promote upcoming radio shows/podcasts, but the folks at The Waiting Room, a radio show out of Cardiff, Wales (UK), will feature three hours of Tom Waits covers on tonight's broadcast. Their Drunk Covers series is generally good, with vast genre influences, and there's been a spate of Waits covers around this year...so expect to hear some Tom Waits covertracks you've heard here in the last few months...and a whole bunch more you haven't. The show is broadcast on ErrorFM, which can be heard everywhere; podcast available here on Thursday!
   
   
2. If you haven't been to Covering the Mouse recently, now's the time: friend and occasional reciprocal guest-poster Kurtis will be celebrating his one year bloggiversary this month, and to honor the occasion, he's collecting votes on your favorite past posts for a midsummer review of the best and worst Disney covers. Make your mark: vote now!
   
   
3. I'm not thrilled about Doveman's cover of the entire soundtrack to Footloose, but My Old Kentucky Blog seems okay with it. Maybe you'll like it. It's free...

Spring Has Sprung: Soft Coversongs of Hope and Renewal

Tomorrow is the first day of Spring, and someone forgot to tell the sky.

In the morning, says the weatherman, the world will turn to slush. And if we are truly blessed, all our sins will be washed away.

Outside the snow sulks in great mounds where the plows have pushed it aside. Hard ice falls on three-inch shoots and tufts of new grass. We stay up late, and sit by the window together, and wait for the rains that do not come.

Send rain, O Lord. For it has been a hard Winter, and we are ready for Spring.

• Mary Chapin Carpenter, Spring & All (orig. Greg Brown)
  A beautiful, pensive portrait of rural loss and reclaimation from Going Driftless: an Artist's Tribute to Greg Brown; go get more Mary Chapin Carpenter here.
  
  
• Erin McKeown, They Say It's Spring (Clarke/Haymes)
  Sultry acoustic swing from Queen of Quiet Erin McKeown. From her album of classic american jazz and vaudville standards Sing You Sinners.
  
  
• Elizabeth Mitchell, Winter's Come and Gone (orig. Gillian Welch)
  
• Elizabeth Mitchell, Pom Na Tu Ri (Springtime Outing) (Korean folksong)
  Tiny, delicate Springsongs from You Are My Little Bird, one of our three most favorite albums from kidfolkie Elizabeth Mitchell.
  
  
• Cassandra Wilson, Waters of March (orig. Antonio Carlos Jobim)
  
• Damien Rice and Lisa Hannigan, Waters of March (ibid.)
  Two vastly different interpretations of Jobim's now-standard Brazilian folktune: a sparse, acoustic take by Damien Rice and Lisa Hannigan off the Goldfish Memory soundtrack, and the spicy smooth jazzpop of Cassandra Wilson's Belly of the Sun.
  
  
• Ann Percival, Tide and the River Rising (orig. Cindy Kallet)
  
• Ann Percival, Green Grow the Rushes Oh (trad.)
  A pair of my favorite spring tunes from clear-voiced Contrafolk vocalist Ann Percival's sole solo album The Sweetest Hours.
  
  
• Greg Brown, Green Grows The Laurel (trad.)
  A bittersweet stand-out track from bullfrog-voiced Greg Brown's underrated collection of traditional folksongs Honey in the Lion's Head.
  
  
• Emmylou Harris w/ Ricky Skaggs and Dolly Parton, Green Pastures (trad.)
  Spring pastures as metaphor for Heaven. Great authentic countryfolk gospel from prolific coverartist Emmylou Harris' 1980 album Roses in the Snow, now available in remastered form.

Happy Spring, everyone. May the darkness turn, and the world turn green and alive for each of us.

Sinéad O'Connor Covers: from Disney to Dolly, from Nirvana to Nilsson

I toyed with using today's post to address some of the unsung heroes of traditional Irish Folk Music, but I'm no expert on the subject. Berkeley Place got to Van Morrison first, I've only got a few good U2 covers left, and Wednesday's post on Celtic Punk was pretty thorough. And even with the SXSW posts starting to get a bit thick on the ground, there's still plenty of bloggers out there dropping diverse sets of Irish and Celtic music on you this weekend.

But never fear, faithful reader: I'm not about to leave you empty handed on the eve of St. Patrick's Day. I may not remember how to code that little accented e in her name, but I do know that the more I hear of her, the more impressed I've been with the deliberate interpetive power of one particular Irish folkrocker. And since she's terribly underrated in the American soundscape, what better way to celebrate the fire of the Irish than to provide an introduction to Sinead O'Connor?

In fact, in many ways, Sinead O'Connor is the perfect counterpart and compliment to our earlier post on Celtic Punk. Behaviorally, Sinead is sociopolitical punk: the shaved head, the infamous pope-shredding on Saturday Night Live. But sonically, Sinead is anything but. Her voice is little-girl innocent, even when angered to a shaky open-throated vibrato; though she can rock with the best of them, her preferred arrangements and phrasing, especially in coversong, tend towards that full sound which best supports her slow phrasing and lush, languid tone.

Though they're not usually clustered, this puts Sinead in a select group of like-voiced and like-minded women, such as Dar Williams, Bjork, and Ani DiFranco: contemporaries who set the standard for serious world-changing worldbeat-slash-folk music clothed in breathy high-vibrato vocal sweetness and pop production value.

Of these women, though I love Dar, and respect Ani, when we're talking about coversong I'd have to put Sinead at the top of the panetheon. Primarily, this is because Sinead has an especially gifted ability to play the tension between punk sensibility and sweet, sultry performance effectively in other people's songs. Few performers of any type can do this as well, and with as much versatility. If all you've heard of Sinead's cover songs is her poppy take on Prince's Nothing Compares 2 U, even if you love her angsty take to pieces, you've probably been guilty of severely underestimating this pop punk pixie.

As a cover artist, Sinead brings an unparalleled range to her performances. Her softer song choices clearly are designed to maximize the potential for interpretation to bring new and often ironic meaning to familiar song. Her breathy take on Someday My Prince Will Come isn't wistful; it's resigned, conflicted, and startlingly feminist. The echoing ghost-like etherial beauty she brings to Nirvana's once-grungy All Apologies isn't restrained so much as angelic: loving and deliberate, it sounds like it comes from Cobain's coffin.

But Sinead isn't a one-trick pony, choosing songs to suit a particular strength of interpretation. When a song inherently speaks to the sort of tension she can create through lyrical interpretation, she forgoes use of dissonance between song and voice, letting herself go.

The results are diverse, and equally impressive. Her cover of older political Irish songs like The Foggy Dew tend to be pure and loudly true to the original mournful fife and drum cadence. The build she brings to House of the Rising Sun uses her full spectrum: In five minutes of blues, you can hear an emotional cycle that some artists take a lifetime to scan. And her cover of Dolly Parton's Dagger Through the Heart manages to be both true-blue bluegrass and emphathetically the most incredible take on Parton's original wail and frustration in an otherwise excellent collection.

Heck, let's skip the Prince cover; it's weak by comparison. Here's the Sinead O'Connor you should have been listening to all along: the songs mentioned above, and a few more that I could go on about for hours. It may not all be pub music, and celebrating a countercultural bisexual critic of the Catholic Church may not make the conservatives happy. But this is music with the true fire of the Irish in every note. And whether you agree with her politics or not, you just can't dismiss her craft, her breadth, or the power of her voice.

• Sinead O'Connor, All Apologies (orig. Nirvana)
  
• Sinead O'Connor, Dagger Through the Heart (orig. Dolly Parton)
  
• Sinead O'Connor, House of the Rising Sun (trad.)
  
• Sinead O'Connor, Her Mantle So Green (trad.)
  
• Sinead O'Connor, You Do Something To Me (Cole Porter)
  
• Sinead O'Connor, Someday My Prince Will Come (orig. Disney)
  
• Sinead O'Connor, I Guess The Lord Must Be In New York City (orig. Harry Nilsson)
  
  
• The Chieftains w/ Sinead O'Connor, The Foggy Dew (trad.)
  
• Willie Nelson w/ Sinead O'Connor, Don't Give Up (orig. Peter Gabriel w/Kate Bush)

Sinead O'Connor's prolific career has resulted in a vast collection of albums which run the gamut from edgy poprock to atmospheric soundtrack pop to acoustic singer-songwriter folk; though I'm usually reluctant to link to Amazon, Sinead's website uses it, so head on over to buy her work.

Not sure where to start? Sinead's newest release Theology is a two-disk set which should make everyone happy: one CD offers stripped down versions of her songs; the other recasts the same songs with a full band. Her reworked version of traditional gospel ballad River of Babylon sounds excellent on both, as do her covers of Curtis Mayfield and Tim Rice/Andrew Lloyd Webber. Taken as sets, the covers AND the doubled albums speak perfectly to both the diversity and excellence I was getting at above.

Finally, lest we forget that Sinead is not just a coverartist, today's bonus coversongs show that Sinead's songwriting displays the same power and creative energy she brings to her performance. I saw Bettye LaVette do her a capella version of I Do Not Want What I Have Not Got in a cramped jazz club a while back, just before she hit the blogs; though Bettye's is a totally different sound, it still fits, emotionally.

• Bettye LaVette, I Do Not Want What I Have Not Got (orig. O'Connor)
  
• Linda Ronstadt and Emmylou Harris, This Is To Mother You (orig. O'Connor)
  
• Hilary Scott, The Last Day Of Our Acquaintance (orig. O'Connor)

Covered in Folk: Neil Young (Of Tribute Albums and Female Indiefolk)

I have a love/hate relationship with Neil Young. While I’ve always loved his early work, both solo and with CSNY, as my ears and his voice age, I find it harder to listen to that infamous whine for more than a few minutes at a time. But ever since I wore a used copy of his incredible, confessional album Harvest down to the groove one mopey adolescent summer, I have had nothing but admiration for Neil Young’s ability to pen poetic yet straightforward songs which give voice to the plight of the powerless and the disaffected in modern American culture.

Young gets his share of covers, though next to Dylan, Paul Simon, and Bruce Springfield, the prolific folk-rocker’s songbook is hardly what we could call well-represented. And given his lyrical bent, it’s unsurprising to find that most of the best covers have emerged from the indie and folk worlds, where musicians and audiences generally share both Young’s socio-political dissatisfaction and his fluid fondness for making music in both acoustic and electric forms. It’s not like my life has been a series of Neil Young-related disappointments.

However, where it’s easy to find strong tribute albums of Springfield or Dylan, as albums, the few Neil Young tributes I’ve encountered have been less than memorable. Last year's Uncut (UK) magazine freebie Like A Hurricane had some excellent folk artists on the roster, but all but three of those songs had been previously released, and back issues are hard to come by. Other, older tributes, like late eighties alt-rock release The Bridge, had a few good cuts, but with a few exceptions (Sonic Youth, The Pixies), The Bridge is generally considered a set of tepid work from some otherwise incredible artists.

Which makes Cinnamon Girl: Women Artists Cover Neil Young for Charity a long-overdue splash of vibrant life in an ocean of mediocrity. This new two-disc set features well-crafted Neil Young covers lovingly recorded by women who, like the previously featured Mary Lou Lord, live and play at the intersection of folk and alternative rock. The songs run the gamut from acoustic folkpop to indiefolk to electrified alternative, and unlike most multi-artist tribute albums, they fit together smoothly, making for a great and well-balanced listen from cover to cover. This is the tribute album Neil Young has deserved for most of his long and prolific career.

The proof is in the posting: I had originally planned to post this entry earlier, but the nice folks at American Laundromat let me take my pick of the collection, and I spent the first week trying to winnow down a two-CD set of great tracks to something manageable. Even after skimming off amazing songs like Luff's great grungy Tell Me Why, Eurotrash's alt-pop title cut, and Veruca Salt's post-punk Burned -- all of which, while amazing examples of indiegirl altrock in their own right, fall outside even a liberal interpretation of folk -- I had to make some hard choices in selecting which songs to share.

You’ll have to buy the album for Lori McKenna's countryfolk version of The Needle and the Damage Done, a dreamy rock anthem from Kristen Hirsh, a balanced, edgy cover of Heart of Gold from Tanya Donelly, the sweet indiefolk harmonies of the Watson Twins and Elk City, and more. But ultimately, I think I've selected a short set of streams which represent the breadth and excellence that is Cinnamon Girl.

No downloads here, folks, though I’ve dropped a few in the bonus section below. But don’t skip ahead. Press play below to hear Jill Sobule’s banjo-tinged folkrock, Kate York's breathy alt-country jam on Comes A Time, the fragile Aimee Mann-like voice-and-piano folkpop of Amilia K Spicer, and my favorite track of many, Dala’s subtle, sultry cover of A Man Need a Maid.

Kate York, Comes A Time


Jill Sobule w/ John Doe, Down By The River


Dala, A Man Needs A Maid

Note: song has a long fade-in...

Amilia K Spicer, Only Love Can Break Your Heart


Told you so. Now head over to American Laundromat to pick up your copy of Cinnamon Girl today. All proceeds go to Casting for Recovery, which provides fly fishing retreats for breast cancer survivors.

While you're there, take a look around. American Laundromat is an excellent label which specializes in pretty much all the things I like: tribute albums, the music and culture of the late eighties, and some of the best indie voices in the business. If nothing else, take a few minutes to listen to "American Laundromat radio", where you can hear Lori McKenna's cover of Peter Gabriel's classic In Your Eyes, among other tracks from their great and growing stable of tribute albums.


Today’s bonus coversongs offer up some more Neil Young tributes from the acoustic singer-songwriter branch of the femfolk world:

• Carrie Rodriguez's slow southernfolk Cortez The Killer
  
• A more etherial Cortez The Killer from Marissa Nadler
  
• Kidfolk fave Elizabeth Mitchell does a sweet Little Wing
  
• Breathy Emily Haines does a great pianofolk Expecting To Fly
  
• The Indigo Girls rock out live to Down By The River
  
• Ubiquitous, clear-voiced Emmylou Harris covers Wrecking Ball
  
• Folktrio The Wailin' Jennys bring their sweet harmonies to Old Man...
  
• ...and to slow mandolin-and-bass lullaby Barefoot Floors

Still need more Neil Young coversongs? Cover Me's cover-by-cover reconstruction of Neil Young's On The Beach includes some great cuts from across the musical spectrum, including Jeff Tweedy and The Be Good Tanyas. Act quick, because the links are due to go down in the next week or two.

Covered In Folk: Gillian Welch (Glen Phillips, Ryan Adams, Alison Krauss, Crooked Still)

Hope no one minds an early "Sunday" post this week; my brother and his wife are on their way in from Brooklyn for the long weekend, and I don't get to see them as often as I'd like. I'll have a short post up for Martin Luther King Jr. Day on Monday, if I can; in the meantime, enjoy today's feature on "American Primitive" folkartist Gillian Welch and her partner David Rawlings, the tenth post in our popular Covered in Folk series, where we pay tribute to the songwriting talents of a single artist.

I saw Gillian Welch at the Green River Festival a while back, and it was a revelation. From ten rows back, her summer dress blowing in the hot breeze, her twanged voice, the doubled guitars, her narratives of Southern poverty and pain, all conspired to bring the hot scent of jasmine and Southern dust on the breeze even as we lounged on the New England grass. The crowd swelled. The rest of the afternoon passed in a haze.

Though it was her vocal talents in O Brother, Where Art Thou which put her on a mass-marketable par with Alison Krauss and Emmylou Harris, it was clear to anyone watching that, as a musical phenomenon, Gillian Welch was a force to be reckoned with in the growing americana folk movement.

More often than not, Gillian Welch is the performing name for two musicians, Welch herself and her ubiquitous partner David Rawlings; when they work with others each gets billing, but in performance as a duo, the pronoun "she" is the standard convention. Welch appears as frontwoman, and can certainly stand her own as a powerful force in a particular subgenre of american folk music, but they share writing credit on many songs, and their harmonies -- vocal and guitar -- are notable and recognizable.

And what is the Gillian Welch sound? Welch's voice is well-suited for the raw, backporch paces she puts it through; together, as songwriters and performers, these two musicians build on this vocal base to create an americana sound Welch calls "American Primitive", something simultanously sparer and more richly nuanced than anything a solo artist could do with guitar or voice. Call it old-timey folk -- unproduced and jangly, sparse and stripped down from the more traditional old-timey sound of groups like Old Crow Medicine Show, Welch and Rawlings' musical compatriots and touring partners.

There are times when Gillian Welch sounds like an old Alan Lomax field recording, something timeless, raw and elegant in its simplicity and honest rough presentation. The lyrics, too, tend towards the trope and narrative themes -- rural life, loss and hardship -- of early American southern field folk. Given all that, it's no wonder that over the last decade or so, since even before the release of debut album Revival in 1996, the folk end of the americana movement has begun to pick up her songs and give them the traditional treatment.

Today, some select covers from the increasingly vast spectrum of sound that pays tribute to this weathered, shy, still-young matriarch of the new americana folk set. Interesting, how many retain the original Welch/Rawlings close harmonies, as if the tenor echo were as much a part of the original text to be covered as the powerful words, melody, and chord. Perhaps it is.

• Crooked Still, Orphan Girl
  
• Emmylou Harris, Orphan Girl
  
• Dakota Blonde, Orphan Girl
  Crooked Still hops with cello, banjo and bass; Emmylou Harris fills out the sound in her inimitable style; newcomers Dakota Blonde mourn a life alone with accordian and guitar and drumthunder. The infinite possibility of nuance and power keeps this oft-covered, well-worn tune fresh, despite its weary lyric.
  
  
• Ryan Adams, Revelator
  
• Glen Phillips, Revelator
  Two electrified covers which take this heavy tune to its natural folk rock conclusion. Alt-country rocker Ryan Adams' shortened version, off the Destroyer Sessions, is full-on Neil Young, guitars and vocals tangled up in angst. Singer-songwriter and ex-Toad the Wet Sprocket frontman Glen Phillips' version is darker, more pensive, more beautiful.
  
  
• Peter Mulvey, Caleb Meyer
  
• Red Molly, Caleb Meyer
  At first listen, Peter Mulvey's classically-fingerpicked version teeters on the overly maudlin, and previously-posted girlgroup Red Molly's three-voiced approach seems to cost them emotive potential. But listen again -- these grow on you.
  
  
• Alison Krauss & Union Station, New Favorite
  Fellow Gillian Welch O Brother, Where Are Thou muse Alison Krauss and her star-studded band Union Station make a sweet live bluegrass ballad of an old-timey wallflower's love song.
  
  
• Elizabeth Mitchell, Winter's Come and Gone
  Kidfolk queen Elizabeth Mitchell brings us a light-hearted tale well-suited for the bedtime ears of the next generation of traditional folk fans.
  
  
• Elan Mehler Quartet, Elvis Presley Blues
  This sultry gospel-jazz take from the Elan Mehler Quartet is sweet with breathy sax and slow-rolling piano. It isn't folk, but it makes the perfect capstone to any set of Gillian Welch covers.

Don't forget to click on artist names above to purchase the best of the modern folk world from bluegrass to bluesfolk direct from the source. And, if you don't already have them, buy Gillian Welch's four incredible albums direct from her website.


Today's bonus coversongs hold back a bit, that we might eventually bring you a full post of Gillian Welch covering other artists. But here's two collaborative efforts that give Rawlings and Welch their own billing, to tide you over until then:

• Gillian Welch and David Rawlings join The Chieftains for traditional song Katie Dear
  
• Robyn Hitchcock, Gillian Welch and David Rawlings cover Dylan's Tryin' To Get To Heaven Before They Close The Door

(Re)Covered: More of and from...Cat Stevens, Neil Finn, The Wainwright Family, and Bill Morrissey

I certainly wasn't planning to post four times this week. But I've unearthed some great-but-late cuts that just begged to be passed along. And this past holiday weekend left me feeling thankful for all those who write and say such nice things about Cover Lay Down. Guess the urge to keep giving was just too much to bear.

Today, the second installment in our (Re)Covered series, wherein we recover songs that dropped through the cracks too late to make it into the posts where they belonged. Enjoy!

I've had several requests for the popcovers I mentioned in last week's Cat Stevens post -- they're not folk, but Stevens is, and both Natalie Merchant and Sheryl Crow have folk cred (the former from her recent solo work, the latter from her early pre-stardom days). So here are Peace Train and The First Cut Is The Deepest. Along with a sweet, ragged, just-unearthed version of Wild World by antipopsters The Format. Plus Australian indiefolkers New Buffalo's slow, grungy acoustic take on that Nina Simone song that Yusuf covers, just for comparison's sake. Oh, and a wonderful, sparse, sleepytime Here Comes My Baby cover from previously featured kidfolk songstress Elizabeth Mitchell. Ask, and ye shall receive, and then some.

• 10,000 Maniacs, Peace Train
  
• Sheryl Crow, The First Cut Is The Deepest
  
• The Format, Wild World
  
• Elizabeth Mitchell, Here Comes My Baby
  
• New Buffalo, Don't Let Me Be Misunderstood (orig. Nina Simone)

I also picked up a few wonderful solo acoustic covers from Neil Finn last week that I couldn't resist passing along; they would have been great bonus songs from our October feature on the songs of Neil and Tim Finn, if I'd had 'em, but that's what our (Re)Covered feature is for. He's not folk, and neither are the original artists of these two pop songs, but the brightly optimistic singer-songwriter treatment Finn gives these two pop songs would be perfectly appropriate on any folk festival stage in the country.

• Neil Finn, Billie Jean (orig. Michael Jackson)
  
• Neil Finn, Sexual Healing (orig. Marvin Gaye)

Lest we lose sight of our core mission, here's some folk covering folk: a wonderful Bill Morrissey and Greg Brown cover of Hang Me, Oh Hang Me I rediscovered just after posting Bill Morrissey's tribute to Mississippi John Hurt. It's a traditional folksong you might recognize as covered by the Grateful Dead under the alternate title Been All Around This World; I'm saving that for a long-overdue Garcia and Grisman feature, but in the meantime, here's another sweet version of the same song by new neotraditionalist Canadian alt-folkies The Deep Dark Woods.

• Bill Morrissey w/ Greg Brown, Hang Me, Oh Hang Me
  
• The Deep Dark Woods, Hang Me, Oh Hang Me

And finally, not one but two beautiful songs which really speak to the whole twisted family dynamic of the Wainwrights, who we featured in our first Folk Family Friday. First, in a burst of typical irony, Rufus and Martha cover father Loudon Wainwright III's One Man Guy, then -- just to show there's no hard feelings -- Kate and Anna McGarrigle once again bring together family friend Emmylou Harris and ex-spouse Loudon for a jangly take on the traditional Green, Green Rocky Road.

• Rufus Wainwright w/ Martha Wainwright, One Man Guy
  
• The McGarrigles, Green, Green Rocky Road

As always, all artist links here on Cover Lay Down go directly to the artists' preferred source for purchasing music. Please, folks: if you like what you hear, both here and out there in the wild world, buy the music, and support the continued production of incredible sound from those who eschew the easy top 40 route to fame and fortune.

Beck Covers: Hank Williams, Gram Parsons, The Flaming Lips, Nick Drake

I saw Beck from a great distance in the heyday of Odelay, sandwiched between Primus and Toad the Wet Sprocket: it was the early nineties, it was Horde, we were bopping on the throbbing lawn, and folk was the farthest thing from anyone's mind. Fifteen years later I'm married to the girl I took to the concert, Beck's still cranking out the pophits, my hard drive is stuffed with folk music, and I pick up every Beck album as it comes out.

Is Beck a folk musician? Not if measured by his hits, no. Technically, his most popular work is post-modern alt-rock, if anything. But there's plenty of reasons why Wikipedia includes the artist formerly known as Bek David Campbell in its list of American folk singers, and uses the term "folk song" to describe a vast swath of his work (I swear, it said that even before I showed up). Beck spent his early days as a busker and coffeeshop player, which gives him the folk street cred; he even opened for Johnny Cash in 1995. He can play a slide guitar and twang his postadolescent voice like no one's business; some of his songs from that period and before come across as almost alt-country.

Beck's songwriting, too, lends itself well to the cadence of the folksinger, as both his less highly-produced projects and covers of his work demonstrate. Today's bonus selections, by KT Tunstall, Tom Petty, and Marianne Faithful, provide some tasty versions from the folkier side of this versatile performer's songbook, just to show how folk these songs really are. But Beck's 2002 album Sea Change, especially, represents a stripped-down acoustic style that leans on his rough interpretation and a simple, indiefolk production style -- even if the occasional synthpulse in the background belies his post-modern hip hop heritage.

And when Beck takes on the songs of others, he generally chooses to slow them down, letting his quavery voice and lo-fi, sparse acoustic instrumentation recreate tone and timbre until everything is wistful, hazy, and raw. Live or B-side, tribute album or hidden track, Beck's penchant towards funereal alt-folk pieces, like Ryan Adams or Gillian Welch at their slow and melodramatic best, legitimizes his inclusion in a blog devoted to folk covers.

Want proof? Today we bring you a broad set of covers from Beck's folksinger side: the dreamlike echoes and hawaiian guitar of Your Cheatin' Heart, the strings and lo-fi drumkit pulse of James Warren's Everybody's Gotta Learn Sometimes, the slow, ragged-harmonies of Beck and Emmylou Harris covering Gram Parson's countryband ballad Sin City, an in-studio acoustic cover of the Flaming Lips, and the eerie, gorgeously dark Nick Drake covers Pink Moon, Which Will, and Parasite. Are they folk songs? Absolutely. Is Beck an unsung folkstar? Listen up, and decide for yourself:

• Beck, Your Cheatin' Heart (orig. Hank Williams)
  
• Beck, Everybody's Gotta Learn Sometimes (orig. J. Warren)
  
• Beck w/ Emmylou Harris, Sin City (orig. Gram Parsons)
  
• Beck, Do You Realize? (orig. The Flaming Lips)
  
• Beck, Pink Moon (orig. Nick Drake)
  
• Beck, Parasite (orig. Nick Drake)
  
• Beck, Which Will (orig. Nick Drake)

Regardless of categorization, Beck's work is available directly through his online store. Folkfans should probably start with Sea Change; if your ears can take the bouncier, harder stuff, I also highly recommend Odelay and Guero.


Today's bonus coversongs:

• Tom Petty's raggedly majestic cover of Asshole
  
• KT Tunstall's gorgeous, gentle acoustic The Golden Age
  
• Marianne Faithful's low, lethargic Nobody's Fault

Covered in Folk: The Dixie Chicks do Patty Griffin

You may not have heard of Patty Griffin. But if you've had your ear to the radio over the past decade, you've heard her songwriting: Griffin is one of those rare singer-songwriters whose songs are bigger than she is, and in her case, it's a shame and a blessing. Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome to the bittersweet lot of the oft-covered and not-yet-famous. We call it Covered in Folk.




According to legend, the production on Patty Griffin's first album obscured her authentic sound so much that her label buried the studio tracks, remastered her demo, and released it pretty much as-is. The result, 1996 release Living With Ghosts, is a comprehensive masterpiece of raw folk power. The siren sounds of the city through her open apartment window only reinforce the realism inherent in the languid grit of her hard-driving guitar, and her hallmark seen-it-all wail.

But we're not here today to talk about Patty's breathy voice, or her rough, busker's streetcorner sound. We're here to talk about her songs.

Those who have seen Patty in concert agree: there's nothing quite like the powerhouse Maine woods twang-and-wail to lay bare the bones of her earlier, darker lyrics of battered women and lost rural souls. But I'd rather have her songs channeled through other voices than let them languish in the A&M; vault. And luckily, Griffin's songs are so powerful as written, it's a genuine joy to hear them handled well by others.

No performer in today's market has benefitted more from Griffin's songwriting than country sensations and anti-Bush badgirls the Dixie Chicks, whose three-part harmony and careful handling make the songs their own while retaining all the original power of lyric and melody. Today we offer three Patty Griffin covers, one from each of three different Chicks albums.

• Let Him Fly, off Dixie Chicks Fly
  
• Truth No. 2, off the Dixie Chicks Home
  
• Top Of The World, off the Dixie Chicks live album of the same name

The Dixie Chicks are great musicians in their own right, but now that you know the pen behind the music, put your credit where credit is due: pick up Patty Griffin's Living with Ghosts, her stellar opus of smalltown loners 1000 Kisses, and the rest of the Griffin catalog at ecotunes, her preferred sales source.


Today's bonus coversong bonanza:

• New folkfemme combo Red Molly covers Griffin's Long Ride Home
  
• Alt-countrified Emmylou Harris covers Griffin's One Big Love
  
• Covergirl chanteuse Maura O'Connell covers Griffins Poor Man's House
  
• Patty Griffin covers Springsteen's Stolen Car
  
• Patty Griffin covers John Hiatt's Take It Down