Covering Yourself In Glory

Back in the 60s, when bands were under pressure to knock out an album (or two) every year, cover versions were almost essential to pad out the vinyl. But as time went on, they tended to be more in the realm of dodgy b-sides and album fillers, created in a mindset of “fuck, we’ve ran out of songs/dodgy remixes”.

Now, it tends to be the tool of the X-Factor contestent and crappy indie acts who want to show they know their history. So, in contrast, here's five of my favourites.

Al Green – I Want to Hold Your Hand
Recorded at the start of his career, when he was still prone to getting up to a bit of sauciness rather than preaching the good word. The straight-ahead pop of the Beatles is given a complete makeover in Memphis, making for a giant soul workout of a number.

After the death of Otis Redding, it was Green who took on the mantle of the best male voice in Southern Soul. Motown may have had Marvin, Smokey and Stubbs, but Al was the equal of any of them. His later work would take on a Motown-esque sheen at times, but he’s raw as can be here. The impression that’s given is that while he wants to hold this girl’s hand, he’d like her to hold something else entirely.

Stevie Wonder – We Can Work It Out
At this stage of the game, young Steveland didn’t need to rely on outside sources for material, but we can be glad he did on this occasion. Taking the jangling guitars of the Beatles original and bringing in a healthy dose of funk, young Wonder creates an anthem for the Civil Rights movement.

As with the Al Green number above, it’s testament to the genius of Lennon and McCartney that their songwriting carries off so effortlessly to other genres. Also, is Stevie Wonder the only person in popular music who can make the harmonica not sound like a seabird being sucked into a jet engine? Genius manifests itself in many ways.

The Beatles – Twist and Shout
I listened to the first Beatles album yesterday and while some of it comes across as twee or showing that they were still hedging their bets on becoming the “all round entertainers” that Epstein wanted them to be (as would later work for Cilla Black, sadly), they still managed to keep some aspects of their time as pill-popping, leathered up lads who played mammoth sets in Hamburg.

Twist and Shout still sounds thrilling, and will do until the end of time. In terms of sound and attitude, it’s as punk as anything the Pistols managed. John Lennon, croaking at the end of an all-day recording session, managed to crank out a screaming vocal. Blowing away the cobwebs of Cliff bloody Richard, this was the birth of British Rock and Roll as we know it.

Billy Bragg – Walk Away Renee
Slight cheat here, as it’s not a straight-forward ‘cover’. Instead, Johnny Marr picks out the basic melody of the original Left Banke/Four Tops (this being the b-side to the Levi Stubbs’ Tears single) number while our Bill laments a relationship with a girl.

Of course, this being Bragg, it’s equally funny and sad – when she speaks to him the first time, his nose begins to bleed. It starts well, but she “started going out with Mr Potato Head” and after a spell lamenting, “she cut her hair and I stopped loving her”. Never has the occasional shallowness of love been so brilliantly conveyed.

Top line: “I said ‘I’m the most eligible bachelor in town’/She said ‘yeah, that’s why I can never understand all those silly letters you send’”.

Slowdive – Some Velvet Morning
Forgot the atrocity that was the Primal Scream version, in which Bobby Gillespie finally managed to remove any trace of integrity by wheeling out Kate fucking Moss of all people.

No, Lee Hazelewood’s good work was much better done by Reading’s finest. Neil Halstead sings the verses as if in a dense fog before Rachel Goswell lifts it out for the chorus. Slowdive were amongst the least "pop" of the shoegazers, but here they show they could do something you could (almost) sing along with.