We recently asked subscribers to our arts and culture newsletter, Something Good, to name their favourite cover song. We received a range of replies, from Beyoncé’s reimagining of the Dolly Parton classic, Jolene, to Nirvana’s MTV Unplugged recording of The Man Who Sold the World by David Bowie. Here’s how seven of our academic experts responded when we asked them the same question.
1. Heaven, by DJ Sammy (2001)
The late 1990s and early 2000s saw a glut of Euro-dance songs troubling the higher reaches of the UK charts, as artists like Alice Deejay, Fragma and Sash (all aliases for male DJs fronted by female guest vocalists) married heavy trance beats with catchy melodies. But above all others stood 2001’s Heaven, by DJ Sammy. A shining example of the energetic but straightforward approach to music that characterised the era, it had a generation of club-goers running for the dancefloor.
Heaven saw Spanish producer Sammy turn a mawkish 1983 Bryan Adams track into the ultimate dance track for all seasons, complete with a relentless beat, hypnotic synth riff, and earworm-of-all-earworm choruses delivered by Dutch singer Dominique Rijpma van Hulst (stage name Do). It’s fun, unapologetically simple, yet somehow seems to encompass every emotion going. An era-defining track that needs to be played loud and proud.
Glenn Fosbraey
2. Me and the Devil Blues, by Gil Scott-Heron (2014)
A great cover is more than a different version of a song – it re-articulates the track and injects it with new meaning. Some do this by radically changing the genre, others by making the song so intensely personal that it is difficult to imagine anyone else singing it. But Gil Scott-Heron’s cover of Robert Johnson’s Me and the Devil Blues (1938), on Scott-Heron’s final album, accomplishes an even rarer feat.
It layers the pain and anguish of a modern black life lived in the heavy bootprint of the fight for civil rights, de-industrialisation and the “war on drugs”, over the legend of original singer Robert Johnson’s daring and tragic story in the Jim Crow south.
Scott-Heron’s cover is an opaque homage that ruminates on living in the echoes of an American music legend’s ruins. It’s a reminder of the continuing horrors of racism, and the enduring artistry of resistance and resilience.
Justin Patch
3. Helter Skelter, by Siouxsie and the Banshees (1978)
As a young artist from Liverpool who was newly signed to Deltasonic Records in the early 2000s, I was keen to find inspiration from artists other than our beloved Beatles. Little did I expect that much of this inspiration would circle back to Paul, John, George and Ringo when I discovered Siouxsie and the Banshees’ album The Scream (1978).
Their cover of Helter Skelter from The Beatles’ White Album (1968) blew me away. Personally, I think this is the best cover of a Beatles song ever, performed by a woman who wasn’t afraid to take control of it.
Eva Petersen
4. Wild is the Wind, by David Bowie
David Bowie frequently supplemented his original material with thematically connected cover songs. There are covers on Hunky Dory (1971), The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust (1972) and Aladdin Sane (1973). These moments are often the weakest spots on Bowie’s records – with one major exception.
Bowie’s 1976 album Station To Station closes with his take on Wild Is The Wind, reworking Johnny Mathis’s two-minute original from 1957 into a soaring and theatrical six-minute showstopper. Bowie’s band dutifully rises to the occasion, decorating the track with elegant lead guitar work and one of the most exquisite drum performances ever committed to tape.
Never one to underplay, Bowie gives the vocal performance of a lifetime, culminating in a soaring climax guaranteed to leave goosebumps on any listener with a pulse.
Daniel Ash
5. Against All Odds, by The Postal Service (2004)
A good cover version needs to find ways to reinvent the texture and structure of the original. Beyond The Postal Service’s iconic 2003 album Give Up, the indie-tronica outfit have a tiny repertoire. For my money, their cover of Phil Collins’s Against All Odds (1984) was the only bright spot in the horrendous Josh Hartnett movie, Wicker Park (2004).
The familiar texture and soundscape of Give Up is heard in the distant and crackly vocal, reverse delays and keyboard of the opening verse and chorus. This gives way to a middle section which is cleaner and more purposeful than the first, with a brighter tempo. A final outro section repeats the lyrical hook – “take a look at me now” – with gentle guitar bringing the song to a close.
With this cover, The Postal Service manage to remake an emotional love ballad into a more angsty and complex work with their own musical stamp.
Conor Caldwell
6. Shipbuilding, by Suede
I always tell students to look at their hero’s heroes and find the covers they chose to do. It is often the case that we discover a classic song from a cover.
The 1995 charity album HELP featured 20 songs (many of them cover versions) by 20 artists in support of children displaced by the Bosnian War.
Suede’s cover of Shipbuilding (written by Elvis Costello and Clive Langer in 1982) was the first version of the song I heard. Such is the power of the piece, I suspect it was not difficult to convey the message. Written during the Falklands war, it concerned the resurgence of the shipyards caused by the necessity to replace ships lost in the conflict.
This led me to discover the definitive 1982 version sung by Robert Wyatt and featuring Costello, which has superb brushed drums and double bass. A masterpiece.
Howard Monk
7. Such Great Heights, by Iron and Wine
In this cover, Sam Beam of Iron and Wine strips what could be potentially considered the calling card of The Postal Service’s small but perfectly formed oeuvre to its bare bones. Featuring nothing more than a hushed voice, gently plucked acoustic guitar and subtle flourish of mandolin, the yearning romanticism of the lyrics is endearingly exposed.
Curiously, The Postal Service chose to include this wonderfully considered cover version as a b-side to their own single release of the song in 2003. This may have prompted its use in the divisive indie movie Garden State (2004), elevating Iron and Wine to deservedly greater heights in the process.
Steve Ryan
Looking for something good? Cut through the noise with a carefully curated selection of the latest releases, live events and exhibitions, straight to your inbox every fortnight, on Fridays. Sign up here.
Eva Petersen has previously received Arts Council funding for her research in 2019. She currently works for Liverpool Institute for Performing Arts.
Conor Caldwell, Daniel Ash, Glenn Fosbraey, Howard Monk, Justin Patch, and Stephen Ryan do not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and have disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.
This article was originally published on The Conversation. Read the original article.
