When evaluating cover songs, the primary distinction is not whether the cover is good or bad, but whether it is necessary. Consider Weezer’s recent cover of Toto’s “Africa.” This cover is not bad. Weezer is a talented and professional rock band. They know how to sing, play their instruments, and reproduce the sounds of “Africa.” But that’s about where it ends. Weezer’s “Africa” is a pretty faithful cover, and it doesn’t evoke any response in me beyond, “Oh here’s ‘Africa.’ Why did they do this?” I suspect people like it for the exact same reasons they like the original: it’s decently catchy and somehow likably idiotic.
By contrast, a necessary cover must do something different from the original song, while at the same time standing on its own merits. If it’s not different, as in the case of “Africa,” then why not just listen to the original, no matter how proficient the cover? And if it’s not good, all the insane interpretation in the world won’t save it.
Based on that thesis, I’ve put together a mix of some favorite necessary covers, along with some thoughts on what makes them work. As I wrote about these songs, a few more specific themes emerged. These include changing up the genre or arrangement, updating the lyrics, mashing multiple songs together, shifting the emotional tenor, and highlighting an element that doesn’t necessarily stand out in the original. The last theme is particularly interesting to me, since a common thread of many of these covers is that they draw out melody in ways the originals don’t. That’s surprising to me because I usually think of melody as a function of songwriting — a song as it’s written is either melodic or not. But it turns out that certain performers really make you hear those melodies, and of course those are the ones I like best.
1. The Bongos — “Mambo Sun” (1982) I hear The Bongos’ “Mambo Sun” as a spiritual ancestor of the pop-punk cover, speeding up the tempo and basically just punching up everything about the original. I’m not usually hyperaware of drums, but even I can’t ignore them here. The group achieves a big drum sound, but without it being that ’80s big drum sound. Also of note: the insane vibrato on “for you” and the xylophone solo followed by what I think might be a vibraslap. Don’t get me wrong, I love T.Rex, but this cover takes Mark Bolan’s hippie nonsense poetry and ups the coolness factor significantly.
2. William Shatner — “Common People” (2004) I know I included “Common People” on another mix recently, but this one wouldn’t have felt right without it. I previously talked about why this song is awesome, so I tried to think more about why it’s a great cover. The Pulp version is fantastic of course, so it’s not begging for improvement. And there’s some extent to which I feel that an American can never truly understand the class politics of this song. But what I think Shatner’s “Common People” achieves is simply being brilliant in and of itself, against all odds. It’s got passion, it rocks, and the production is superb. Adding any conditionals to one’s praise of this song because it’s a cover would be like complaining that all Frank Sinatra songs are covers. It’s not about who wrote it, but how well the interpretation works, and in this case I wouldn’t hesitate to say that Shatner’s “Common People” stakes a real claim at being the definitive version.
3. Bob and Marsha — “To Be Young, Gifted, and Black” (1970) I first heard this before a Morrissey concert, where the pre-show entertainment was a montage of videos of Moz’s favorite songs. The man has taste. I’m honestly not that familiar with the Nina Simone original, but a few listens reveal a march-like interpretation that evokes the protests of the 1960s much more strongly than Bob and Marsha’s joyful reggae-pop cover. I’m sure Simone’s version was needed in a serious way, but the cover offers something valuable too — celebration and encouragement — while also emphasizing the pop elements of the song.
4. Barbara Streisand — “Life on Mars?” (1974) The surprising thing about this cover is the complete and absolute rightness of it. It might seem like a strange pairing, but, when you think about it, “Life on Mars?” isn’t much of a rock song to begin with. Bowie was apparently inspired to write the song after hearing “My Way,” of all things, and Streisand’s rendition really makes you hear it in the context of a big, theatrical ballad. And damn, can she sing! Maybe that’s an unnecessary statement with regard to someone like Barbara Streisand, but what a treat to be reminded of it in conjunction with such quality material.
5. The Presidents of the United States of America — “Video Killed the Radio Star” (1998) Here’s another almost pop punk cover, but with more emphasis on the pop. I think this is a successful formula because it changes the song just enough to be novel in a way that everyone likes — fast, fun, and punchy. The Buggles’ original is pretty good, but I’ve never quite loved it, and I like this better. There’s also lyrical interest in the way that the song didn’t feel particularly dated in the ‘90s. If I didn’t know it was a cover, I’d totally believe the subject matter was still relevant in 1998.
6. Love and Rockets — “Ball of Confusion” (1985) Here’s one that probably needs to be covered at least once a decade. The Temptations’ original is brilliant and so much of it is just as meaningful as ever. But it’s also very ‘70s with its Jesus Christ Superstar-style rock ’n’ soul and all those “great googamoogas”. Love and Rockets sharpen it up for the ’80s with a spikier hard rock sound and some well chosen lyrical updates. “The politicians say ____________” is a particularly good one. I’d love to hear someone do a real update of this that sounds and feels like the 2010s.
7. Julian Cope — “5 O’Clock World” (1988) There are two great and necessary cover elements here. First, Cope gives us a liberal update on the lyrics that at once retains the meaning of the Vogues’ original, while also expanding its boundaries to an audacious degree. We’re not only breaking free of the workday, but of the whole miserable planet. Second, it combines two covers, using a little snatch of Petula Clark’s “I Know a Place” as the middle eight. The first time I heard this, it was a delightful surprise that had me grinning so hard for the rest of the song. That Vox Continental outro is another nice nod to the ‘60s.
8. Rod Stewart — “Downtown Train” (1989) Tom Waits for me is in the category of people whose songs are at their best when they’re being sung by someone else. He’s a great songwriter, but his style is weird, and as such his version of “Downtown Train” is intimate, crabbed, and, well, weird. Rod Stewart’s version lets the melody out of its cage and opens the whole thing up to a new kind of grandness. Tom Waits is the one lurking past your gate, while Rod Stewart is shining like a new dime. Whoever produced this wisely didn’t cover up Rod’s tour de force vocal with too many adult contemporary shenanigans. And am I crazy or do those “oh babys” owe a little something to “Bllie Jean?”
9. Kirsty MacColl — “A New England” (1984) Kirsty MacColl takes Billy Bragg’s lo-fi raw diamond and polishes it up into a shining pop gem. Her treatment really brings the melody to the forefront, especially its wistful qualities. This is also a strong lyrical composition, and the changes and additions that Billy made for Kirsty’s version only make it better. “When at last it didn’t ring, I knew it wasn’t you” is a winner of a one-liner that have could have been written by Douglas Adams. But it’s the change from “I’m not looking for a new England/I’m just looking for another girl” to “Are you looking for another girl?” that really gets me. Somewhere along the way, I started to imagine that this line is not being addressed to a boy, but to England itself, as if the country is expelling those who can’t get on board with its lack of cultural support for a young woman who wants more than early motherhood and a loveless marriage.
10. Blind Melon — “Candy Says” (1994) Now this is a transformation. You might not think that The Velvet Underground’s spare, sleepy lament would work as a jangly country tune, or that Doug Yule’s sullen drone would translate to Shannon Hoon’s twangy yelps, but they do. This is another case where the cover isn’t better than the original, it’s just it’s own thing. The Blind Mellon version comes across as more emotionally immediate, letting out the pain of the situation, as opposed to just willing it into indifference. This is not on Spotify, so well worth listening to here on Mixcloud.
11. The Davenports — “Freedom” (2018) So it’s obvious by now that I like covers that emphasize the melodic elements of a song and smooth out rough edges. Does Wham! really need this treatment? I’d say, why not? I’ve always thought of George Michael as a great melody writer, and “Freedom” is one of his strongest. The Davenports have a lot of fun transforming it from one type of pop song to another. Instead of ‘80s slickness, we get Fountains of Wayne-style power pop with all the trimmings: a slightly gravelly vocal, handclaps, glorious harmonies, and a beefed up guitar sound. Totally warranted.
12 .Mark Ronson and Amy Winehouse — “Valerie” (2007) An obvious choice, you might say, but its obviousness is exactly what’s great about it. It’s rare that a 21st century song is both artistically excellent and the kind of universal crowd-pleaser that sounds equally good on an obscure mixtape or in the Banana Republic dressing room. The original is just okay, but the cover is a revelation. The sinuous vocal coaxes out a melody you can barely grasp on the Zutons’ version, and it must have taken a true leap of inspiration to hear how a slightly clunky 2000s rock song could be reframed as a brilliant 1960s pastiche. It’s not just the obvious girl group vocals that make it work, but the little touches like the Wrecking Crew-style horn arrangement. Amy Winehouse is known for that 1960s nostalgia, and more than anything it’s her combination of quality and wide appeal that we should be most nostalgic for.
One good thing about getting older as a music fan is that you forget about a lot of songs. This might not seem like an obvious benefit, but there are a couple reasons why it’s great. First, hearing a favorite song after a long break is like how I imagine it would be if your present-day spouse could time travel and kiss you again for the first time — intoxicatingly novel, yet comfortingly familiar. Second, and less fancifully, it gives you some perspective on how well a song or album has held up, especially if it was brand new at the time you first liked it.