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February 16, 2010
Anyone else turned on?
Posts tagged as:
cover songs
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April 19, 2009
Music is important to me, and I know I am a complete douche for saying that because it implies that I wear a beret everywhere I go and/or have a meaningful story to tell about how the Dave Matthews Band changed my life. Thankfully, neither is the case, but my point still stands. I’ve never thought of myself as someone who was into music, because I just assumed that everyone listens to Smash Mouth for the simple fact that they’re part of the 90s, or believes that Phil Collins is like, legitimately talented (don’t laugh). I remember my epiphany occurred when I told my boyfriend about Morrissey’s surprisingly large Latino fan base, and he replied with, “Who is Morrissey?”
So anyway, this week I’m highlighting some of my favorite cover songs. I don’t think I’ve ever listened to a cover song I didn’t like (aside from a cover of Billy Joel’s “We Didn’t Start the Fire” to which I say: you can’t make bread out of dog shit), and while it’s hard to only pick a few, I tried my very best to find as many as I could.
Tender Forever-My Love (Originally performed by Justin Timberlake):
I liked Justin Timberlake back when he had those lame frosted tips and was pretending not to bang Britney Spears. I can take or leave Future Sex/Love Sounds as a whole, but maybe I would be more enthusiastic if T.I. had come in to play the Ukulele on a few tracks, like Melanie Valera does in her version of “My Love”. I also suggest watching the video because Melanie has a really hot chap stick lesbian look going for her.
Cocoon-Kung Fu Fighting (Originally performed by Carl Douglas):
Cocoon takes a song that has forever been ruined by Rush Hour 3, and turns it into soft melody that could move you to tears. It will lull you into a calm, dream-like state, and best of all, it won’t remind you of Chris Tucker.
Jens Lekman-Water Runs Dry (Originally performed by Boyz II Men):
Ok, I can’t say that I like this more than the original, because Boyz II Men is my own personal Mecca. However, it did make me think a bit more about this song that I used to reserve as my cool down after I was done belting “On Bended Knee” . The thing about Boyz II Men, is that all of their songs have a template that essentially reads, “Don’t leave me, let’s make love instead.” Jens Lekman turns this into, “I love you, I hate when we fight, let’s have some brie with sun dried tomatoes.”
Daniel Rossen-Too Little Too Late (Originally performed by JoJo):
It turns out I don’t hate JoJo’s music, I just hate when she is singing it. Listening to Daniel Rossen (of Grizzly Bear) sing “Too Little Too Late” is bizzare (especially when he says “players”), but you would never know that it was originally done by a 13 year old with cornrows, which means that it is good.
Yael Naim-Toxic (Originally performed by Britney Spears):
I owe at least part of my body to Britney Spears, because without “Toxic”, I would be left with one uninspiring workout playlist. Yael Naim’s version doesn’t have the energy of the original, but that’s actually a good thing because as it turns out, it is the ideal song to listen to during sex.
Taken By Trees-Sweet Child O’ Mine (Originally performed by Guns N’ Roses):
This is just simply gorgeous. Listen to it, now.
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February 11, 2009
I love cover songs because they add meaning that was otherwise lost on me with the original. For instance, I would listen to the Pixies “Mr Grieves” and be like, “Damn, Frank Black sounds fucking awesome”, and then I heard TV on the Radio’s version, and was like “Damn, that’s fucking deep”.
Naturally, I was thrilled when I heard Samamidon’s rendition of “Head Over Heels”, which was popularized by Tears For Fears. Besides being know as the two guys with killer hair, Tears For Fears produced “Everybody Wants to Rule the World” which is in every 80s movie ever, but I think “Head Over Heels” is better. Samamidon’s version is a bit Kermit-esque, but in a way that will make you ache more than Rainbow Connection (Office fans: Andy’s version is better).
Duke it out amongst yourselves to figure out which one is superior. Just don’t decide based on the video because I mean…there’s a chimpanzee wearing a Red Sox jersey, Orthodox Jew playing drums and a Dave Coulier look alike in a leather jacket beating on a keyboard like it owes him money. No contest.
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February 4, 2009
I’ve never been into fashion or clothes or anything that requires me to tart myself up like I’m Boy George. My dad picked out my outfits until I was about 11, which usually consisted of a Looney Tunes shirt and denim shorts that went down to my knees. From there, I progressed to glitter tops, Skechers and Tommy Hilfiger overalls. In my adult life, I gorged on biscuit sandwiches and attempted to hide it with cardigans and really edgy t-shirts in the vein of “Jesus is My Homeboy”.
I eventually lost the weight and Bruce Vilanch-esque t-shirts, but the bad taste runs deep, so I kept this around:
This shirt couldn’t be more descriptive of my inner thoughts, unless of course it said, “Let’s fuck and then eat Doritos while we watch the Paradise Hotel marathon.”. It comes from Blacktooth, and I know the t-shirts look like they were made for people who have fashion mullets and smoke Parliament Lights while listening to Jeff Buckley’s cover of Hallelujah, but that’s because they are. It’s douche bag central, but I couldn’t resist something so tacky and vulgar.
I’ve never gotten any compliments on it, but no one has approached me to express their disgust yet, so I will file this under “Fashion Do”.
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November 30, 2008
I don’t believe in many things. Sometimes I consider myself lucky, but other times I find myself cursed, because instead of claiming a turf and defending its borders, I concede to anyone with a pamphlet and firm belief that shaving is for The Man. Scientology? Could be true. Wicca? Just another vantage point to add to the pot (or cauldron, as the case may be). Mormons? Well…you saw that episode of South Park, right? This gumby-ness when it comes to creed is what I refer to as being Agnostic, although I’m sure anyone who intellectualizes it would wave a finger at that description.
But I’m not here to talk about what I don’t believe in. That’s a long, and frankly, boring list. I believe in one very simple thing. I believe in something that no one can refute. It’s something that silences a crowd, causing everyone to sit back and ruminate upon the truth they have just received. It is universal. It is not exclusionary. It deflects rebuttal.
I believe that everyone is capable of having a visceral reaction to Alanis Morissette’s “You Oughta Know”. Maybe you are annoyed at spelling of “oughta”. Or maybe you carry a heavy sense of nostalgia for the angry girl rock of the 90s. It’s more likely, though, that you seek refuge in this musical treatise because you know a man or woman who has scorned you, and you’re fucking pissed. This song opens the red velvet rope to your rage and celebrates it. Now, I understand that many of you are feeling left out at this point, not being particularly passionate about spelling or having sex with shitty people. You’re thinking that I’m full of shit. The catch all reason that this song evokes such a reaction is that it acts as a reminder that Dave Coulier has a penis and he has used it at least once in the past. “You Oughta Know” is commonly attributed to Dave Coulier, and even if it’s not truly about him, I will never be able to unlink it from the image of him getting blown in a theatre.
If you think I wanted to spend twenty minutes talking about Joey “Cut-It-Out” Gladstone and his turgid dick, then you are sorely mistaken. That was simply a rouse. I actually found a song that I treasure more than “You Oughta Know” and it happens to be a cover of “You Oughta Know”. It’s performed by the Scala & Kolacny Brothers, which is a misnomer because it is actually an all girls choir from Belgium. Their work consists mostly of well known pop songs from Radiohead, Coldplay, and Garbage and I assure you it is an absolute treat to listen to their renditions.
Sure, they don’t possess that same bitterness that Alanis is so famously capable of, but you have not lived until you’ve heard a choir belt out “fuck” in angelic unison.