I’m listening to “Good Luck, Babe!” two times in a row, once by Postmodern Jukebox and the other by Chappell Roan. Later, I’ll listen to “Too Sweet” two times, the original by Hozier and the cover version by the Macarons Project. Earlier, Rod Stewart’s “Maggie May” by Susanna Hoffs, and The National’s version of “Never Tear Us Apart.” There is a playlist on my music app called Prime Covers. (I use the word “prime” in each of my playlists, thinking it’s equal parts clever and commentary on the ubiquitous nature of the Amazon brand. It’s probably neither, it’s probably just dumb. Same goes for the title of this blog, which could be clever but is probably just dumb.)
I love cover songs, have always loved cover songs.
I do not, however, like too faithful note-for-note replays. Why? I didn’t like Van Sant’s Psycho shot-for-shot remake, either. The current exception is “Right Down The Line” – original by Gerry Rafferty, cover by Local Natives. Maybe that’s because the song/lyrics remind me so much of the Angel (“It was you, woman, right down the line.”) I could hear either one and be very happy. But usually, I can’t enjoy it because I’m waiting for something new and interesting that never comes.
I want completely different imaginings of these songs. My example of a perfect cover would be Danzig covering Pat Benatar’s “Love Is A Battlefield.” Danzig is not Pat Benatar, but “Love Is A Battlefield” sounds like a sentiment he could get behind. Everything would be perfect. Postmodern Jukebox’s “Good Luck, Babe!” sounds like an early ‘60’s b-side, and is better in every way than Chappell Roan’s. “Too Sweet” is different enough, but Hozier’s version is the alpha. This is usually the case, original’s are mostly indispensable, with the cover being a quirky distraction.
I suppose “All Along The Watchtower” is the best example of the new absolutely replacing the old. After Jimi Hendrix played his, no one would ever purposefully listen to Bob Dylan’s again. This is a very very rare phenomena.
One Sunday morning, in our church service, I played “Be My Baby,” by the Ronettes and then again by Bayside. Nobody actually thinks the Bayside version is better, but there are people who would, at certain times and places, rather hear a catchy pop punk tune than a classic piece of Heaven, with a transcendent Ronnie Spector performance (is there another kind???).
The point was, we have a Gospel that is the most amazing, awesome Truth, and there’s a Great Commission that asks us to take this Gospel everywhere. Not everyone likes Chappell Roan, or Danzig, or Bob Dylan, but these songs need to be heard, the audience needs to grow for beautiful things. And not everyone likes my face or voice or shoes, but everyone desperately needs this Gospel of grace, peace, and love. Maybe they need your version, instead.
