March 12th, 2007
9. Elvis Presley, "Hey Jude"
Covering The Beatles is often futile. The original versions sound as definitive as if they were issued from on high, which, in a manner of speaking, they were. There's nothing wrong with The Beatles' take on "Hey Jude," but it lends itself to interpretation more than much of the catalog. Maybe it's the unexpected lyrical content—like "She Loves You," it's an impassioned request for someone else to find love. Maybe it's because Paul McCartney's vocals sound like a blueprint for more dramatic readings to come. Wilson Pickett tore into it memorably, but for a truly transcendent version, look no further than Elvis. Presley recorded his version in Memphis during his late-'60s renaissance, but its slow-building gospel fervor remained unheard until the 1972 album Elvis Now, when the fires of his artistic revival had begun to flicker. Surrounded by Vegas-ready versions of "Help Me Make It Through The Night" and "Put Your Hand In The Hand," it's remained an overlooked track that captures much of what's great about Elvis and The Beatles in four and a half minutes.
10. Naked Eyes, "(There's) Always Something There To Remind Me"
A beautiful song with slowly descending chords that match the theme of being brought down by constant reminders of an ex-lover, "(There's) Always Something There To Remind Me" has long been a standout in the songwriting catalog of Burt Bacharach and Hal David. The original 1964 recording by American soul singer Lou Johnson was actually pretty good, but its mediocre placement was all but obscured by Sandie Shaw's UK number-one version a few months later. Remember it? Of course not. It's awful—going all epileptic-showgirl at just the moment the lyric calls for introspection. But Naked Eyes achieved genuine pathos in its 1983 version, with emotive synths in place of strings. Of course, it didn't hurt that this tale of love leaving a painful reminder exploded internationally at the exact same time as herpes.
11. Jimi Hendrix, "All Along The Watchtower"
Bob Dylan is one of the most-covered musicians in history for a reason: Besides writing some of the best songs of the rock era, he's made lots of recordings that sound unfinished, even skeletal—in other words, perfect frames to flesh out. John Wesley Harding's "All Along The Watchtower" is searing and eerie in its own rickety way, but the song didn't become truly epic until Jimi Hendrix unleashed his rendition, a mere nine months after the original. Instead of stiff drums and tubercular harmonica, Hendrix summons a supple, elemental groove that channels pure myth and mystery. Of course, it wouldn't work without Dylan's apocalyptic lyrics and chilling chords, but Hendrix's solos actually sound like wind howling and wildcats growling—and his voice is a roar that stalks the song's despair-drenched depths. Prince played a decent version recently during the Super Bowl halftime show, but when it comes to "Watchtower," no one beats Hendrix.
12. Jackie Wilson, "Light My Fire"
Sometimes it's hard to listen to any Doors song with a straight face, let alone "Light My Fire," a serviceable tune that's been eroded by way too much airplay. Two years after its 1967 chart blitz, Jackie Wilson—surfing on a renewal of popularity thanks to Brunswick's in-house geniuses Eugene Record and Barbara Acklin—decided to have some fun on Do Your Thing, an album padded with covers both banal ("Hold On! I'm Comin'") and bizarre ("Eleanor Rigby"). Best, though, is Wilson's vastly superior version of "Light My Fire," which starts with a pseudo-Latin flutter before pumping out some stark, sinewy funk that predicts Al Green's imminent godhood. Punctuated by Wilson's patented squeals and screeches, the song—rendered more sexy than psychedelic—also benefits from one quality that The Doors never stumbled upon: understatement.
13. Devo, "(Can't Get No) Satisfaction"
Why is Mick Jagger so sexually frustrated? The Rolling Stones classic is a slow burn with a syncopated grind, a come-on disguised as a lament. Devo turns the song into a real soundtrack for impotence. Over a jittery bass riff, Mark Mothersbaugh stutters the lyric at breakneck speed like he hasn't got no satisfaction in his entire adult life. Before confessing his losing streak, he hollers "baby baby baby baby" for eight full bars without taking a breath, thanks to the magic of looping. This "Satisfaction" is all coke binges and Internet porn, with zero rock-star attitude—the perfect confessional for lonely, horny geeks.
14. Langley Schools Music Project, "Desperado"
Grade-school recitals are often exercises in well-meant musical torture. But in the late 1970s, a British Columbian schoolteacher named Hans Fenger orchestrated a piece of out-of-left-field wonderment almost by accident when he decided to let his children's choir tackle then-current pop songs by The Beach Boys and David Bowie, among others. The songs were forgotten for nearly 25 years until their rediscovery in 2001, when outsider-music archivist Irwin Chusid compiled them on the disc Innocence And Despair. The title came from Fenger's description of the album's haunting high point, a winsome, wistful performance of The Eagles' "Desperado" by nine-year-old Sheila Behman. Though Behman mangles the lyrics a bit, creating bizarre new imagery in the line "she'll beat you if she's a bull," the simplicity and seriousness of her sad-angel singing lends the song a surprising poignancy that Don Henley's considerably glossier original doesn't approach.
« Previous | 1 | 2
- Comments