It feels like forever since I’ve done one of these 100 best covers posts. In fact, I had to look back in my archives to see how long ago it actually was and then, got caught up in listening to Dum Dum Girl’s cover of “There is a light that never goes out”, all over again. So we go from The Smiths to The Beatles, two iconic British bands from very different eras and just over two months in between.
“Across the universe” was a John Lennon composition, consisting of some of his very favourite lyrics. Interesting, then, that it was shelved for so long and finally appeared first on a charity compilation album and then, on “Let it be”, mostly because of the footage of it caught for the documentary film of the same name. There are a few versions of the song floating around out there, one with singing bird sound effects bookending the music and of course, the more popular one remixed by Phil Spector.
Rufus Wainwright is Canadian singer/songwriter who is the offspring of American folk singer Loudon Wainwright III and Canadian folk singer Kate McGarrigle and the older brother of Martha Wainwright. His cover of “Across the universe” came about after the release of his second album, 2001’s “Poses”, and he was approached by Sean Penn to record a version of the Beatles song for his film, “I am Sam”. The initial plan was to use the original Beatles versions for the film and its soundtrack but the filmmakers were unable to obtain the rights for all the songs. Apparently though, the filming had been done using the originals already so the covers had to be recorded using the same time signatures.
Rufus Wainwright’s cover may be in the same time signature but his version is all him. Where The Beatles’ original is all psychedelic, spiritual, and soaring over a technicolor world, using all the studio bells and whistles, Wainwright’s is a mostly stripped down affair. It’s guitar layered on guitar and his vocal tracks layered upon each other. And those Wainwright vocals are the key, playing somewhere between opera, show tune, and glam rock, taking on a life of their own and bringing with them the inherent sadness of the song. Quite beautiful really.
The cover:
The original:
For the rest of the 100 best covers list, click here.
Okay. So I’m departing from this blog’s usual format in order to participate in this cross blog, group collaboration on Bob Dylan (you can check out the work on the other fine blogs here). The album noted in this post’s subtitle doesn’t fit neatly into any of the lists or series I’ve got going right now (at least not yet). And I suppose it’s not the most obvious album or topic to be written about in connection with Bob Dylan but you see, I could never pretend to be the biggest fan, nor the most knowledgeable proponent of Robert Zimmerman. Sure, I went through a phase where I listened to his stuff incessantly a decade or two ago and I still have one of his many ‘best of’ compilations in my iTunes library, but that phase was short-lived and that compilation rarely sees play these days. Still, he’s a great lyricist and songwriter and I really do enjoy a bunch of his tunes. I just happen to find myself inexplicably more receptive to his compositions when they are covered by other people.
And he has been covered a lot. Other folk artists started covering him immediately, as I understand it, well before anyone else really knew who he was. The Byrds made a career out of covering his songs and doing it well. And if you google “Bob Dylan covers”, you’ll see that countless artists, many themselves influential, have covered him over the years. (There’s even a Wikipedia page listing all the cover versions and it goes on for days.) So we can all agree, he writes great songs and he’s influenced everyone who’s anyone but what else do we really know about him, other than he sings quite oddly and incoherently these days and that he won the Nobel prize for literature last year.
This is sort of what Todd Hayne’s tackles in his 2007 film, “I’m not there”, which I rewatched last week in preparation for writing this post, partially to get into the mood for writing it and partially because I couldn’t really remember the film. It is a sort of pastiche, and in a sense, a collection of covers in film version. Rather than present a straight ahead biopic, Haynes portrays and explores the different personas, myths, and musical eras of Dylan as six different characters (none of whom are named Bob Dylan), played by six different actors. Each of these were compelling in their own right but special kudos must be doled out to Cate Blanchett, who really rocked her gender-blurring part and made you forget any image you had of her previously.
To go along with these actors and their characters, there are six different stories that play out within the span of the film, seemingly at random, seemingly in different times, seemingly in different worlds, and what we get is not so much an explanation, but rather, an idea. Bob Dylan was a poet, a prophet, an outlaw, a fake, a “rock and roll martyr”, and a “star of electricity”. And at the same time, he was none of these. When asked about the film later, Dylan was apparently typically vague: “Yeah, I thought it was all right. Do you think that the director was worried that people would understand it or not? I don’t think he cared one bit. I just think he wanted to make a good movie. I thought it looked good, and those actors were incredible.”
The film’s soundtrack is a double album (2 CD, 4 LP) and just as the film never really references Dylan by name and he only appears briefly through archival footage at its end, Bob Dylan, himself, only literally appears once on the soundtrack, the very last track, in fact, the previously unreleased song from which the film and album take their names. (The rest are covers, so you can see why I like it.) The artists are as varied as the styles and sounds of music applied to the songs, doing a good job representing Dylan’s ability to dabble across the genre landscape with ease. We’ve got blues, Eddie Vedder, bluegrass, The Black Keys, folk, Jeff Tweedy, country, Sonic Youth, rock, and Sufjan Stevens, and through all of this, there still remains a coherence throughout. Another fascinating factoid is that only a portion of about half of the songs on the soundtrack actually appeared in the film. The originals featured more prominently there and I suppose that is how it should’ve been.
Here is a sampling of some of my favourite tunes on the soundtrack and a piece of brilliant Dylan lyric from each:
“Stuck inside of Mobile with the Memphis blues again” by Cat Power: “Stuck inside of mobile” is one of my favourite Bob Dylan tunes, appearing as it did on the “Fear and loathing in Las Vegas” soundtrack, one of my favourite films. Cat Power does an expanded, almost seven minute version of the song and gives it the big band treatment, replete with plenty of horns and some swirling organ work. Her lovely vocal touch is adjusted slightly to adapt to Dylan’s laidback mood of the original.
Fave lyric: “Now the preacher looked so baffled when I asked him why he dressed with twenty pounds of headlines stapled to his chest.”
“You ain’t going’ nowhere” by Glen Hansard and Markéta Irglová: This cover by the principal actors of “Once”, another film with a great soundtrack, doesn’t stray terribly far from the 60s Bob Dylan template, which fits right in with the busking persona that Hansard cultivated in “Once”. There’s heavy handed harmonica and the use of acoustic guitar as rhythm and melody. Hansard is raw and Irglová is the sweet backup sound.
Fave lyric: “Genghis Khan, he could not keep all his kings supplied with sleep. We’ll climb that hill no matter how steep”
“Goin’ to Acapulco” by Jim James & Calexico: I’ve never heard the original version of this tune but this cover by My Morning Jacket’s Jim James and the soundtrack’s house band, Calexico, is quite phenomenal. It also plays quite prominently in an important and super memorable moment in the film, all glorious with imagery and magic, featuring the actual performers of the song, while Richard Gere’s outlaw, Billy the Kid prepares to face his long-time nemesis in Pat Garrett. So much soul, so regal, so beautiful.
Fave lyric: “I’m going down to Rose Marie’s. She never does me wrong. She puts it to me plain as day and gives it to me for a song.”
P.S. As much as I like the soundtrack, I’d be curious as to what the real Dylan fans out there (perhaps some of my blogging compatriots included) think of it.
P.P.S. After all this research, by that I mean watching the film and listening to the soundtrack, I feel like it may be time delve once again in to Mr. Dylan’s catalogue. I’ll let you all know how that goes…
The year 2000 was my last full year living in Toronto before moving to Ottawa the following year. At the end of the summer of 2000, I moved to an apartment in Roncesvalles village and fell in with the neighbourhood. It wasn’t quite as hip and happening as it is now but it had some cool shops and restaurants and also a repertory theatre called The Revue. I spent a lot of time in that theatre, being that it was only a block from my building and admission being only slightly more than renting a DVD. I don’t remember all of the films I watched there but I definitely remember seeing “Dancer in the dark”.
The film is one not easily forgotten. Indeed, it is a real feel bad movie.
Directed by Lars Von Trier, it features Björk as Selma, a nearly blind, factory-working, single mother who escapes her existence to a daydream world of Hollywood musical numbers. I’ve heard (but cannot confirm this) that Von Trier came up with the film’s concept and hand-selected Björk for the starring role after seeing her music video for “Oh so quiet”. She wrote all the music for the film and co-wrote the lyrics with Von Trier and Sjón. Björk then released the songs on a nine-song album called “Selmasongs”. The highlight number in both the film and the soundtrack is the breathtaking “I’ve seen it all”, a song for which she received an Oscar nomination for best original song. This, of course, led to an outstanding performance at the ceremony, where she wore the “swan” dress, which sadly, is more remembered than said performance.
On the version of “I’ve seen it all” on “Selmasongs”, she duets beautifully with Radiohead’s Thom Yorke (singing the parts sung by Peter Stormare in the film) over a jarring rhythm line that morphs from the chugging of a train at the intro. Strings abound and you can almost see the technicolor images of Thom Yorke as Jeff, a man in love with Selma, as he tries to convince her to use her life savings to correct her vision. Meanwhile, Selma has long-since decided to selflessly use it to prevent her son from suffering her fate from the same degenerative disease. He pleads with her, listing the things she’s never experienced, “You’ve never been to Niagara Falls?” But Björk is unshaken. “I have seen water, its water, that’s all.”
Heart-breaking, much like her performance in the film.
For the rest of the Best tunes of 2000 list, click here.
My (life in) music lists 