(Originally published on 28th February, 2019)
‘… Don’t Plagiarise Or Take On Loan’. Thanks to the once-ever-dependable Morrissey (see below) for the introduction, which there is no need to complete – point made I think. Cover versions are, theoretically speaking, terrible things. What they come down to is an admission by the performer in question that his, her or its own material is not good enough, or that they do not have enough of it. For all the talk of ‘paying tribute’ to the musicians who influenced them, essentially what covers ‘artists’ are doing is attempting to bask in the glory of another’s achievement, rather than striving to create equally ground-breaking and era-defining work themselves.
Having said this, however, there are of course some good cover versions – some better than the originals, in fact. Here is a selection – if we’ve omitted any let us know at theanticlub@pm.me.
1) ‘I Don’t Want To Grow Up’ by the Ramones (originally recorded by Tom Waits). Probably the best cover version on this list – the earlier recording buries its own melody under so many layers of contrived, ‘kooky’ grunting, snorting and un-musical sounds that it seems like it must be a joke, whereas the Ramones’ recording re-frames the song as it was always meant to be heard. There’s no denying the talent behind this song’s creation – the tune and its lyrics are a work of genius, that’s a fact. Which makes Waits’ decision to release it in that form so incomprehensible – as if Da Vinci had thrown a bucket of sewage over his completed ‘Mona Lisa’. Thank whatever gods may be, then, for the Ramones, who make it sound completely their own.
2) ‘Diane’ by Therapy?, 1995 (originally recorded by Hüsker Dü in 1983). Some of the entries on this list sound a lot like the tracks they are copying. And then some, like number 1) above, sound nothing like them. ‘Diane’ falls with a resounding crash into the latter camp. Andy Cairns might have become insufferable, but credit where it is due – his razor-sharp re-imagining of this song can be described as a classic. The original, though not as bad as Waits’ (see first entry), is a mumbly, meandering mess. I know that was Hüsker Dü’s whole deal, but a lot of these pre-grunge bands were just too distorted. That’s why grunge came along. What is the point in writing a melody if it can’t be heard? The later Seattle bands and their ilk – like Therapy? – understood that you could have better production values and still sound abrasive and dangerous. It’s not selling out as long as you know where to draw the line. So with the first ‘Diane’, the listener has to really strain to discern what is happening… but the 1990s version, with the brave decision to forgo guitars and drums entirely and build the entire structure around a bare cello, is what most people will think of when they think of this track, and deservedly so.
3) ‘In A Manner Of Speaking’ by Martin Gore (originally recorded by Tuxedo Moon). ‘Counterfeit’ is a classic – if one must record a mini-album of cover versions, this is the way to do it. Maybe it’s just Gore’s inimitable style, but ‘In A Manner… ‘ sounds like it could have come from ‘Black Celebration’ or ‘Music For The Masses’, so Depeche Mode-like is the mood he creates. Haunting, mysterious, eerie and compelling.
4) ‘Interlude’ by Morrissey and Siouxsie Sioux, 1994 (originally recorded by Timi Yuro in 1968). Included in Spin magazine’s list of the top 10 “one-off team-ups” of all time, this song saw ‘Moz’ fall out with his co-singer after the recording – an inevitable occurrence, considering his soured relationships with David Bowie, Brett Anderson and virtually anyone he has ever come into contact with. At number 25, ‘Interlude’ charted considerably higher than Morrissey’s previous single, ‘Hold On To Your Friends’, which had flopped at number 47, and as well as the dramatic performances of both vocalists, the flowing string arrangements on the track are impressive indeed. How different from all of Morrissey’s other attempts at re-imagining other people’s songs – his ‘Satellite Of Love’ by Lou Reed and ‘Trash’ by the New York Dolls have to be heard to be believed (in a bad way), while his T-Rex’s ‘Cosmic Dancer’ really doesn’t add anything new, which makes a cover rather pointless.
5) ‘Rush Hour’ by Joyrider, 1996 (originally recorded by Jane Wiedlin). One of the most under-rated bands of the ’90s, Portadown’s Joyrider even made it onto ‘Top Of The Pops’ with their presentation of The Go-Gos’ guitarist’s hit, the later version a little-remembered hyper-melodic punk-ish classic. They could be written off as mere chancers if that was all there was to them – but their album ‘Be Special’, released the previous year, is packed full of original, dark but accessible alternative power-pop, some of it strikingly mature and moving for a new group. ‘Rush Hour’ was a perfect fit for their sound, and though it doesn’t top Wiedlin’s recording it is certainly one of the best covers of the era.
6) ‘Live And Let Die’ by Guns’n’Roses (originally recorded by Wings). No need to dwell too long on this – a perfect specimen of a weak, limp, forgettable original transmogrified into a raging, powerful beast that wipes the floor with its earlier self. I mean, Axl Rose versus Paul McCartney… enough said. Incidentally, G’n’R do lean a little too heavily on cover versions in their live sets – but AC/DC’s ‘Whole Lotta Rosie’ has never sounded better than it does on these occasions.
7) ‘Substitute’ by the Sex Pistols, 1976 – released in 1979 (originally recorded by The Who). The Pistols’ take on this classic song captures the essence of the original, but roughs it up to the maximum extent and adds a whole new layer of exuberance. From Johnny Rotten’s opening sneer – “You don’t need permission for anything” – to Steve Jones’ raw guitar sound and the powerful rhythm section, this is a super-charged rendition. Where Roger Daltrey’s original vocals were sweetly sincere, Lydon delivers his in his best North London guttersnipe snarl – “You fink my shoes are made of levvah”. Listen out for the first time he sings what should be “plastic mac” in the bridge – he certainly wasn’t waiting for anyone’s permission to change the lyrics, or to insert a swear word so blatantly, which no-one had even thought of doing previously.
Though they might have once been considered ‘wild’ by the standards of the time, The Who were flirting with progressive rock and very much part of the establishment when the Pistols emerged, so at first it seems odd that the punks should have chosen such a group as inspiration. Obviously the guitar smashing, volume and confrontational attitude of early Who made a lasting impression on Rotten and the boys, who were seemingly able to get over the rock opera shenanigans and long hair that would come later. What is brilliant about their ‘Substitute’ is the way the listener can hear how much they’re enjoying themselves.
Given how high-spirited this performance is, it’s ironic that it was released in conjunction with ‘The Great Rock ‘n’ Roll Swindle’ – manager Malcolm McLaren’s interesting but deeply flawed vanity film project, made around the collapse of the Sex Pistols. The film was cobbled together at a time when the band members and management detested the sight of one another and Lydon quit just after production began. Julien Temple, whose main qualification was that he’d been to a lot of Sex Pistols gigs, took over as director and made something surprisingly watchable considering what he was up against, but it’s the soundtrack that really saves ‘… Swindle’ – not all of it, of course, but some captures the energy and adrenaline of the band at the peak of their powers, with ‘Substitute’ being a prime example of this.
It is the sound of the Sex Pistols at their loud, obnoxious best, before Sid Vicious came and went and it all fell crashing down.
8) ‘Landslide’ by Smashing Pumpkins (originally recorded by Fleetwood Mac). It has been said (not by me) that Smashing Pumpkins are an acquired taste – this view is almost certainly directly attributable to Billy Corgan’s unique vocal style. However, their version of ‘Landslide’ (really, like virtually everything by the group, just the work of Corgan alone), found on the oddities and rarities collection ‘Pisces Iscariot’, is spine-tingling. The original is a good song, granted. But Corgan’s performance of it has a chilling, stark beauty that just doesn’t come across in the AOR-sounding earlier version. The Pumpkins’ ‘Landslide’ gave me goose-bumps when I first heard it as a teenager, and all these years later still has that same effect.
9) ‘Cinnamon Girl’ by Type O Negative (originally recorded by Neil Young). Let’s be real here – the earlier song just isn’t that great, certainly not anywhere near the level of its writer’s more well-known tracks, and apart from the signature guitar riff, it’s not very memorable. Respect, then, to Pete Steele for his bone-crunchingly heavy yet melodic play-through of it, which, thanks to his other-worldly-sounding vocals and the expansive drumming raises the tune to a whole other plane.
10) ‘Take A Chance On Me’ by Erasure (originally recorded by ABBA). How did this ever come about? Vince Clarke obviously lost a bet with Andy Bell, the latter’s (presumable) choice of this, of all songs, to cover seeming like little more than an excuse to make the unforgettable video for it. Let’s just be glad it wasn’t something even more obvious… ‘Dancing Queen’, anyone? But one has to hand it to Vince – he enters into proceedings with gusto (visually as well as sonically), his hyper-synth-pop treatment of the material works, and that unexpected rap cameo by MC Kinky somehow, against all odds, does too.
Honourable mentions to the following… indeed, all of them could and should be on the list above, but for convenience it was meant to be a Top 10 so something had to be excluded. Consider these to be on the same level though: ‘Like A Hurricane’ [live] by Roxy Music – another Neil Young mention, and not surprising given his mastery of the song-writing craft. Roxy’s interpretation is stylish and elegant, as is to be expected.
Also, The Pretenders’ ‘Brass In Pocket’ received an interesting makeover in the mid-1990s by Suede, the latter band to be applauded for the dearth of cover versions in its back catalogue (were there even any others?). Ultimately it just didn’t do enough to Chrissie Hynde & Co.’s creation to merit more attention than it got.
Finally, Akron, Ohio cult act Devo does not always get the credit it deserves as a post-punk pioneer, with its ‘quirky’ later records the only thing most people know by the band. Thanks to Nirvana though, Devo’s dance-punk prototype ‘Turn Around’ – originally a lowly B-side – was to attain immortality in grunge form on Nirvana’s platinum-selling rarity collection ‘Incesticide’. Meanwhile, ‘Son Of A Gun’ and especially ‘Molly’s Lips’, also from ‘Incesticide’ and originally by obscure Glaswegians The Vaselines, were up there with some of Cobain’s best material. There were plenty more obvious ‘other people’s songs’ in Kurt’s repertoire – a little too many, in fact, considering that his own song-writing was head and shoulders above most of his contemporaries’.
THE ANTI-CLUB 