I don’t know how the compilation, “Reprises Inrocks”, ever ended up in my Apple music library*, which song it was that led me to track down the two disc compilation, but it did. And I did. And though, I don’t listen to it all the way through all that often, there are some great tunes on there that are not available anywhere else.
It was released in 2007 by French music and culture magazine, Les Inrockuptibles, whose pages upon whom I have admittedly never glanced, though I have admired a few of their other compilations in the past, most notably the wicked Leonard Cohen and The Smiths tribute albums, “I’m your fan” and “The Smiths is dead”. The twenty five tracks on this one are all covers, some by bands I love and others not, and many are ones that may not seem like they could work on paper, but somehow do nonetheless. Examples include: Ray Lamontagne’s stripped down take on Gnarls Barkley’s “Crazy”, Jose Gonzalez’s unplugged version of Massive Attack’s “Teardrop”, Nina Gordon channelling Frente but doing NWA’s “Straight outta Compton”, and Calexico’s spanish guitar folk rendition of The Clash’s “Guns of Brixton”.
One of the few tracks that I knew would work from the very beginning was Cincinnati, Ohio’s The National taking a crack at The Psychedelic Fur’s classic, “Pretty in pink”. I was still relative new to The National at this point, having just delved into their fourth studio album, “The boxer”, but I was already hooked on their dark and atmospheric sound and completely sold on the rich vocals of frontman Matt Berninger. Even though his voice is quite different from that of Richard Butler, more lounge and laconic than rough and punk, it still feels exactly right for the song.
Originally written and released in 1981, “Pretty in pink” gained a greater following and notoriety when it was re-recorded a few years later for inclusion on the soundtrack for the John Hughes teen 80s film of the same name. Both Furs’ versions are hard to argue with, raw and more guitar heavy, and more upbeat than The National’s cover. The song is a post punk classic and likely a huge inspiration for a band who have long since penned a bunch of post punk revival classics of their own.
I think both of these recordings are incredible and full of life, one sunny and one rainy, but I have to go with the original here, mostly for the nostalgia factor for me.
Cover:
Original:
*It would’ve been iTunes way back then.
For the rest of the 100 best covers list, click here.
Wunderhorse is an indie rock band that was started by guitarist/vocalist Jacob Slater in 2020 in Cornwall, England. The group was initially a solo project outlet for the songs he was writing during the early days of the COVID pandemic. Slater fleshed out the group to a quintet to record these songs as “Cub”, the debut album that was released in 2022 to rave reviews.
Everything so far is what I’ve gleaned from googling the group online* after coming across the music off “Midas” over the last few months of 2024 and being blown away by this, their sophomore record. But to be honest, I still haven’t had time to go back to the debut, nor have I checked out anything by Slater’s near legendary punk trio Dead Pretties, whose breakup apparently broke a lot of fans’ hearts and sent Slater hurtling from London to Cornwall in the first place. These will likely require my attentions at some point but right now, I’ve just been content to lose myself in these 10 songs.
If you haven’t yet had the pleasure, Wunderhorse’s music is bluesy, punk-influenced, crashing, guitar rock. It’s a sound that if described to me in such a way, I wouldn’t have thought out of place in the explosion of American alt-rock commercial radio in the mid-90s and I would probably have run screaming from at that time. However, there’s something about this music, on this album: Slater’s songwriting and vocal presentation, and even the musicianship of Harry Fowler (guitar), Peter Woodin (bass), and Jamie Staples (drums). There’s an energy and a passion that has hooked me. Indeed, the spit and the sweat is palpable on each track, feeling like it’s present in the room with you, raising it’s elbows to clear some room to dance. You can definitely hear how this would be amazing live and in concert**.
Everything is quite good on this album but these three picks for you are the ones pulled from the heap on the day I wrote this post.
“Cathedrals“: “There are shipwrecks in the sea, there are blossoms on the tree, there’s this little part of me – that is you.” The riffs off the taut guitar string like sparks off a horseshoe. It all starts a bit soft before the wild abandon. Playing the loud soft loud contrast like Coldplay covering Nirvana willfully and unabashedly ripping off the Pixies. It’s all about love and pain and all the emotions in between. Naked and honest lyrics, recorded in a studio that sounds like it’s in a vacuum.
“Silver”: “Yeah, I was crooked from the cradle, I’m a bastard from the start, and I kept some pretty people in the hollow of my heart.” Track number four is a deceptive beast. It comes off as mellow with a jangly riff but it rocks and rants just the same. The name, too, is trickery – a precious metal as decoy for something sinister. Frontman and lyricist, Jacob Slater has said of the single: “Everyone has elements of their makeup that they’d rather not admit to or keep locked away and never look at.” Just more honesty, in words and practice, and in the frankness of the musicality.
“Rain”: “Do you feel the rain? Did it crawl up on your shoulders? Did it coil around your name? Did it slowly snatch the sunlight out of every waking day?” This is a dark and haunting number. It reminds me something of CanRock classic, “One gun” by 54-40, in the way in which it uses negative space and echo as a fifth instrument. It has the kind of sound you shoot for when you are out for a late night drive, a drive without destination, on an old country road, without streetlights, your brights constantly on because there’s no other car out here this late and you don’t want to accidentally hit an animal that could jump out through the mists at any moment. It’s a song for searching and losing yourself at the same time and keeps you good company while doing so.
*I was amused to learn that frontman Jacob Slater appeared in the very excellent Danny Boyle-directed miniseries on the Sex Pistols, portraying drummer Paul Cook.
**From what I’ve read, their shows are exceptional for their energy and the way the musicians lose themselves in the sound.
Stay tuned for album #3. In the meantime, here are the previous albums in this list:
Wild Pink was formed in New York City in 2015 by John Ross, Dan Keegan, and TC Brownell. They have released five full-length albums and just as many EPs during their decade in existence. They’ve changed labels a few times, cycled through a few members, but what has remained consistent has been the strong song and lyric writing by frontman Ross.
I came across the group one year into the pandemic with their third record, 2021’s “A billion little lights”. And though up to now I haven’t felt compelled to backtrack through their earlier work, explore any of the shorter releases, or do any research as to who it was I was listening to, I’ve been all over their full-length LPs, enjoying the sound and pricking up my ears whenever they popped up in playlists randomly over the speakers. My interest in them has intensified over the past year, however, the more I’ve listened to this, their fifth record, “Dulling the horns”. It’s quite possible that it has been the compounding of three successive excellent records that has guided my increased appetite for their sound but I think it is more than that.
So I’ll just say it: “Dulling the horns” is a great record. And though I’ve only heard three of their five full-lengths, I still feel confident in declaring this their best, as much as I enjoy many of the tracks on both “A billion little lights” and 2022’s “ILYSM”.
This 2024 release just seems so much more cohesive and focused. This could be the result of a concerted effort by Ross to try to capture the group’s live performance magic by throwing the old reliables in the studio together to bang the thing out. What they captured was an Americana record that has been dragged through the mud of 90s fuzz rock, like Dinosaur Jr, Pavement, and Weezer. Meanwhile, Ross seems to have adjusted his vocal style, whether this was intentional or not, going to the well of established 2010s indie folk singer/songwriters like M Ward, Jason Collett, and Great Lake Swimmers’ Tony Dekker.
All of this has added up to repeated listens to the album, something I possibly didn’t do enough with the previous two and in so doing, I’ve come to realize how great a songwriter and lyricist is our John Ross. And, yes, this might be bold but I feel justified, after singing along to many of the great tracks on this album, to placing him amongst Matt Berninger and Craig Finn, indie rock’s finest.
Intrigued or doubting? Have a peek at one or all of my three picks for you and see for yourself.
“Sprinter brain“: “Can you show me how all your feelings are like seashells? Laying down down on the seafloor, and how you dive down, and pick one up, weigh the truth of it in your hands, put it back down again. You just let it be.” This song is just under four minutes of driving and crashing rhythms – both the pounding drums and the wild strum of the guitar – all punctuated by tinkling and dancing keys. It has the feel of a road trip with no intended destination – the windows all cranked open, allowing the warm wind to whip through and forcing the radio volume to be cranked to max. It has the feeling of running away and running to something at the same time. And yeah, it leaves you breathless.
“The fences of stonehenge”: “There’s a light that no one else can touch. When I saw it in your face, I thought it was a little much. There’s a light, I’m going after it, despite the fact I’m still sick of all my shit.” Apparently, this two and a half minute opening number was intended to open the proceedings right from the beginning. A hilarious title that may not seem to be obviously related to the song’s subject matter, until you stop to consider the whole idea and realize the absurdity of it all. As a song, it’s timeless rock and roll, with a persistent power chord strum that hooks you long enough to become invested in the call and response vocals, to which no one is responding save for your own frustration.
“St. Catherine st.”: “I know you wanna be here. Don’t wanna hide again. Quitting drinking was like swimming away from land.” This is just one of many great lyrical treats on this slow-burning but sweat-dripping number, each evoking an image and a feeling that sticks with you. The song builds from a repetitive strum, a plodding footfall, a rimshot that echoes in the darkness. The guitar starts to feel anthemic after a while, a cathartic cross-pollination of guitar god stances and a shoegaze feedback noodle with your eyes closed. It has closing number in a packed club written all over it, everyone screaming along with Ross, hands raised in the air, trying to catch hold of this feeling and freeze it for later enjoyment.
We’ll be back in a handful of days with album #4. In the meantime, here are the previous albums in this list:
My (life in) music lists 