Honey, I'm home.

I've been feeling guilty for the infrequency of my posts due to my computer woes, so today I'm posting a million songs (six is almost a million, right?) in an attempt to redeem myself. And, shock of all shocks, I think I like most of these.

The Balanescu Quartet "Pocket Calculator" (Kraftwerk cover) 5.5MB
If you've spent any time at all hunting around on Soulseek (or whatever), you've undoubtedly come across one—if not 1,000—of the plethora of string quartet tribute albums that have sprung up in the past year or so. This trend's impetus appears to have been spurred on by Apocalyptica's surprising success covering Metallica songs in the mid-1990s. And while I respect the attempt in some cases, I just don't really think the world needs a classical version of Weezer's "Hash Pipe." (Seriously, if you wanna see how out of hand this trend has become, I have some proof. 311? Audioslave? Are you fucking kidding me?)

Anyhow, predating all of the aforementioned crap work was violinist/violist (and fellow Romanian) Alexander Balanescu's awesome tribute to Kraftwerk, Possessed. (Well, at least half of the songs are Kraftwerk songs.) Sure, the songs of Kraftwerk are easily more Baroque than those of Incubus or Slayer or whatever new string tribute currently in the works, but that doesn't mean that Balanescu didn't work hard to create these interesting, highly listenable covers. I love what he did, and I hope at least a few of you do as well.

Poole "No Matter What" (Badfinger cover) 2.8MB
This track comes from a spinART label sampler that was packaged with AP magazine (I think) a while back, which actually introduced me to the Apples in Stereo-esque band Poole. It sounds a hell of a lot like the original, to be sure, but it's infused just enough with that sunshiny pop goodness for which bands of this ilk are known that it seems new again.

Scarling "Creep" (Radiohead cover) 5.6MB
I can't tell right now whether I like this cover or not, but I do know that this band certainly must've gotten a healthy dose of Medicine.

The Beards "(I'm Always Touched by Your) Presence Dear" (Blondie cover) 4.9MB
When I found out (about 10 hours ago) that The Beards was a sort of side project band featuring Lisa and Sherri from Buck (And Lisa was in Cub too) and Kim from the Muffs, I was disappointed that I'd never heard of them before. I really like this cover. And I'd talk more about why if I weren't about to leave work. Really.

Tori Amos "Strange Fruit" (Billie Holiday cover) 3.9MB
Man, Tori can really scare songs up, can't she? Granted, a song about lynching is a song about lynching, but when I hear this version, I can really see the bodies swaying in a way that I don't when I hear the others.

Wilson Phillips "Doctor My Eyes" (Jackson Browne cover) 2.8MB
Forget the Pixies. Forget the Beastie Boys. This is the comeback you've been waiting for and you know it. Heh.

I give good love to you, baby.

I'm certain most of you are already reading Fluxblog, aka the god of MP3 blogs, on a regular basis, yes? Because you should be, as Matthew's selections are as interesting and diverse as they get—and because he's hip to the covers as well. For instance, the other day he posted the Scissor Sisters doing a cover of that Franz Ferdinand song MTV tells me is so damned buzzworthy.

Also, The Wily Filipino tipped his hat to me and recently posted Chinese pop star Faye Wong covering the Cranberries' "Dreams."

So, check 'em out.

And this may be all you need to know.

Last weekend, I wound up with an offer from a friend to use two free (to me) tickets to a Linda Ronstadt/Aaron Neville concert. Usually, this is not something I'd agree to, but my mom happened to be in town when the call came and was ecstatic at the prospect, so we went. Besides, Linda is pretty much the undisputed old-school queen of covers, so it became research. Heh. Yeah.

Aaron Neville is, if you can imagine, even more annoying in person, as he apparently believes his warbly falsetto doesn't warble enough on its own and spends his time on stage purposefully shaking his microphone in front of his face, which itself is clenched as if he's taking the biggest shit of his life—which, I guess, in essence, he is.

Linda's voice is pretty damned powerful, but she used it primarily to sing jazz standards and the syrupy, shit duets like "I Don't Know Much (But I Know I love You)." She sang a couple of her cover hits, a "Blue Bayou" (Roy Orbison) here, a "Just One Look" (Martha & the Vandellas, among many others) there. But she didn't sing my favorites. No "Different Drum" (a song I've sung a million times at karaoke). No "When Will I Be Loved."

Also disturbing is that her eyes were pretty consistently trained on the teleprompter on the floor in front of her. And she used it a lot, which is pretty sad. For instance, if you need a reminder that the first word in the song "Desperado" is desperado, I think you need a little more help than a teleprompter can provide.

The Lemonheads "Different Drum" (Linda Ronstadt [Mike Nesmith wrote it, you know] cover)
As I said, this is my favorite Linda Ronstadt song. I love the idea that a song written in the same era as the woman-as-doormat classics like "He Hit Me (It Felt Like a Kiss)" and "Wishin' and Hopin'" could be so progressive. That's right, Linda, women don't have to feel the need to be tied down to men, even the pretty ones. However, to quote our old friend Shania "Where in the Hell Has She Been" Twain, this version don't impress me much. It was a B-side on one of the "It's a Shame About Ray" singles, I think, and is, for the most part, far less inspiring to me with a (quite apathetic-sounding) man singing it.

Linda Ronstadt "When Will I Be Loved" (Everly Brothers cover)
I think it's safe to say that this is my favorite version of this song—although the Mannfred Mann version is a close second. Perhaps, more than anything, this reflects my nostalgia for hearing powerful female vocals to which my mom would happily sing along while she drove me to nursery school.

It says nothing to me about my life.

I'm trying three new experiments today. Firstly, I'm using bandwidth from my crusty ol' Geocities account to host today's songs. I pay extra for remote linking purposes, so in theory it should work. However, I know that Geocities overloads quickly and downloads tend to be a little slow, so you've been warned. Hopefully things will go smoothly, although I do have my doubts. I mean, stupid Yahoo rolled out its new 100 MB e-mail accounts today, and it's annoyingly slow and only seems to work intermittently. Who knows how that's going to affect its other services? Seriously, I'm GMail all the way, yo. Note to Yahoo: Beta tests are worthwhile.

Secondly, I'm updating from work. Actually, I've done that once or twice before, but today it's extra dead so I'm doing it again. This is worth mentioning only because I have no way of checking to test the links from here to see how quick or slow or dead they might be.

Thirdly, I'm posting a couple of reader requests. I'm not certain that's something I want to commit to doing long-term, but it just so happens that these songs happened to already be on my hard drive when requested, and I figure you can fight kismet such as that.

So, let's do it already.

Sardina "Me and My Arrow" (Harry Nilsson cover)
I'm not certain whether this is sad or cool, but I had never heard this song until Sardina covered it. (Who is Sardina?) The only Nilsson song of which I was aware in my childhood was "Coconut," which longtime readers heard Dannii Minogue mutilate back in March back before my blog was a blog. Aaaanyway, Father Tom wanted to hear it and I was happy to oblige.

The Business "Panic" (Smiths cover)
Reader Charlie says this is bar none his favorite cover, and he can't find it. Until now. This track comes from The World Still Won't Listen, a hardcore punk tribute to the Smiths that is pretty expertly described right here. (Sorry, it's so slow here that it's made me inexcusably lazy about writing.) I should defend this track, though, by saying that, at the very least, this band seems to actually like the Smiths enough to have included this cover on one of their own EPs, unlike many of the "yeah, I'd like to be on a tribute album for exposure" bands on this disc. Well, perhaps, more accurately, they like the message that DJs should be hanged. Whatever. The Business are definitely giving you some hardcore Oi! on this track. Guttural gutter punks indeed.

Related: Feel like hunting out a list of nearly all available covers of Smiths songs? Here's a little one-stop shopping for you. Sheesh. These crazy people on the Internet with their crazy obsessions. They're all sick in the head. Um, except me.

Supergrass "Just Dropped In (To See What Condition my Condition is In)" (Mickey Newbury cover—although most people are probably more familiar with The version by Willie Nelson or with Kenny Rogers' version, which was in The Big Lebowski)
This is my own request. I just got a hold of the long out-of-print, 1992 three-disc wonder, Ruby Trax: The NME's Roaring Forty. Okay, okay ... my computer just got a hold of the MP3s. Anyhow, if you can get past the fact that half of the covers on it are most probably on a continual loop as part of whatever psychological torture takes place at facilities like Guantanamo, the rest are pretty damned good. (Laze alert: See this spot-on review for an accurate summation.) This country-cum-psychedelic-garage take by the oft-effervescent Supergrass is my new "get ready for work in the morning" jam. Tip: Don't overanalyze the lyrics. Some things are so much better when they make absolutely no sense.

EDIT: I'm on crack. That Supergrass song isn't on that compilation at all. I knew as I was typing that up that the timeline seemed off. And I totally knew that it was a B-side to one of their singles. I was thinking of some other song that I meant to post. My apologies. My brain was erased by work boredom.

Love, Liza

When I woke up this morning, you were on my mind. And you were on my mind.

Oh, I've got troubles.

Hey, kids. No new songs just yet, I just wanted to check in and say hi and thank everyone who's been reading, commenting on and linking to this site. As I've said a few times, my home computer is slowly dying, and it's annoying as hell. I've pretty much been avoiding using it because I get so infuriated at having to reboot it two or three times an hour. I'll probably get some new songs up over the weekend when I have more time to deal with it.

I'm thinking that my late-June birthday will yield a newer, faster, smarter, better computer (or at least some money to help me buy one), so I should be able to post on a more regular basis (and possibly keep the songs up longer) beginning in July. I just wanted to let y'all know. (Yes, I'm from Chicago and I just called you "y'all." Deal with it.)

Again, thanks for your attention and for your patience. You rule.

But you don't really care for music, do you?

Oh, the things my subconscious can conjure up. A few nights ago, I had a dream in which I was marrying Ryan Dunn from Jackass and Viva La Bam! Generally, this would be a strange enough dream on its own, but when you're as twisted as I apparently am, I guess there always has to be a little extra weirdness thrown in for good measure that may or may not inspire me to add specific tracks to this blog. Well, playing an electric violin (or was it a viola?) as I walked up the aisle in a gown reminiscent of that Madonna wore on the first MTV Awards was none other than a Velvet Underground-era John Cale. Uh, okay.

To celebrate Cale's appearance in my head, here are a few Cale-related covers for you all.

Mercury Rev "(I Keep a) Close Watch" (John Cale cover)
This was a B-side to one of the "Little Rhymes" singles that I always thought sounded familiar, but which I couldn't place. A few months after wondering "how do I know this song?", I finally looked it up and saw that it was written and originally performed by Cale. D'oh. So much for my encyclopedic knowledge of music, eh?

Sugar Ray "Spinning Away" (Brian Eno & John Cale cover)
You know, it kills me to say this since my hatred for Mark McGrath knows no bounds, but this is a pretty good cover. Of course, it helps when Brian Eno (who wrote and performed the original) is producing. Found on the soundtrack to the craptastic Leonardo DiCaprio vehicle The Beach, this track is a little brighter and poppier than the original and that's okay. That's what Sugar Ray do: They turn everything they touch into an accessible, competent, innocuous pop hit ready to be absorbed by the masses—their funk metal debut Lemonade and Brownies notwithstanding.

Actually, just the other day I found myself wondering, "When are Sugar Ray gonna come along and bore us/drive us insane with another album full of catchy-but-predictable lyrics and hooks?" Then I remembered that they released an album last year—of which I'm only aware due to the "why'd they even bother it sounds exactly the same" cover of Joe Jackson's "Is She Really Going Out With Him" and which, as far as I can tell, made absolutely no real impact on anyone.

Unrelated to Sugar Ray: The album from whence comes the original "Spinning Away," Brian Eno and John Cale's Wrong Way Up, which my friend Gerry introduced me to a few years back, has gone on to become one of my favorite albums released in the 1990s.

John Cale "Hallelujah" (Leonard Cohen cover)
The little things confuse me. By the time I saw Shrek, I was aware that my sexy gay boyfriend Rufus Wainwright's cover of "Hallelujah" was on the soundtrack. But when I watched the scene that actually featured "Hallelujah," it was not Rufus' version at all. Instead it was my favorite version. The John Cale version, which I first heard when I purchased the Leonard Cohen tribute album I'm Your Fan when it came out in 1991. Yes, you heard right. This is my favorite cover of this song. Not Jeff Buckley's, not U2's, not Bob Dylan's, not Sheryl Crow's. You get the picture. There's just something extra sad and dark about this one. I'm still confused about the whole movie-versus-soundtrack phenomenon, but whatever. I'll take this song wherever I can get it.

The 22nd of geekiness.

Some days, I try to pick tracks I think work well together. Other times, I throw some songs on shuffle and let technology choose. Tonight, since TRIO is showing an episode of Pink Lady and Jeff in which Pink Lady sing and dance to "Ease on Down the Road" (and later do a duet of "Heaven Knows" with Donny Osmond!) and from which I can't turn away, I've been forced to choose the latter. Oh shit! Now Teddy Pendergrass is singing "Do Me." This is heaven.

Afghan Whigs "Creep" (TLC cover)
Greg Dulli is sexy, but this cover is ultimately predictable and just plain not very good. Basically it's the band badgering you with: "You'd never expect us to cover this, would you? Huh? Huh? Yeah, that's what I thought. We're so ironic and cool." Feh. It does remind me of the satin pajamas blowing in the wind in the original video though. Honestly, TLC, En Vogue and Salt-N-Pepa really kept Victoria's Secret in business in the early/mid 1990s.

Paradise Lost "Smalltown Boy" (Bronski Beat cover)

I guess I'm supposed to be impressed that a band as "tough" as Paradise Lost (I mean, they're "doom metal," for chrissakes!) is really deep for covering this coming-out-of-the-closet anthem, thus replacing Jimmy Somerville's falsetto with a meatier, annoying Cult-meets-Creed vocal. But I'm not. C'mon, boys, Sisters of Mercy already exists—and they're good.

Sobaki Tabaka! "In Your Room" (Depeche Mode cover)

My non-scientific estimation of how many Depeche Mode tribute albums exist in the world is 17 million. My estimation of how many are worth a listen is approximately two, give or take a few. Now, I'm not saying that A Russian Tribute to Depeche Mode is one of those few, per se. I am, however, going out on a limb to say it's by far one of the more interesting—far more interesting than your average techno, synth, goth or darkwave DM tribute.

This bizarre track is downright filmic. Lynchian. First you're in a dream sequence prominently featuring lizards and midgets who prophesy your demise. Then you're fondling the breasts of an aging redneck waitress while dancing drunkenly on a tabletop of an all-night diner/bar. Then the evangelist bum played by Tom Waits begins preaching scripture in Russian. Then you're back in the blur of the dream, one midget assuring you it isn't really happening while the other assures the opposite and encourages you to begin a hunt for your ex-boyfriend's wallet chain, which will hold the key to breaking the mystery you've been trying to solve for years.

Or not.

See the band's alleged mission here.

And while we're talking about neither-bad-nor-good strangely intriguing covers:

Head on over to Japanese acapella beatboxer Dokaka's MP3 page. I recommend starting with "Smells Like Teen Spirit" and continuing onto the others if you feel you've got the stomach for it.

Beauty can be sad.

Let's face it, I'm still drunk from the barbecue I attended earlier and I'm just picking a few covers still on my hard drive after my big "Holy shit, my computer is about to bite it for real this time and I'd better save and delete as much as I can so that I don't have to reboot it every few seconds" freak-out. I'm guessing a new PC will be mine by the end of June and I'll be able to store (and subsequently post) way more songs on a far more regular basis. Until then, this is what you get. Sorry.

LR "Universal Heart-Beat" (Juliana Hatfield cover)
Apparently a group of crazed Juliana Hatfield fans put together a double-disc set of Blake Babies/JH covers and this is one part of the result. Ah, rabid Juliana Hatfield fans ... it doesn't matter how much you suck, I still find you amusing. Speaking of maniacal JH fans and me being amused, I think there should be some hot Juliana slash out there in which she has a threesome with John and Freda after fighting about the order of songs on the set list for an upcoming show. See, the tension would get unbearable and they'd have to release it somehow. That would rule.

Arab Strap "You Shook Me All Night Long" (AC/DC cover)
There's nothing worse than a song about fucking that just isn't sexy at all. Maybe it's the sheer number of college parties populated by mulleted townies at which I've heard this "classic," but I was pretty sure I never needed to hear it again as long as I lived. Now, hearing it in this loud, Scottish brogue, it never sounded so damned sexy, I swear. Maybe it's the High Life talking, but I'm all for it. Perhaps some Arab Strap fanfic in which I suck Aidan Moffet's cock in the recording studio (a la that scene in The Doors) would be more fulfilling than the aforementioned Blake Babies slash. I'd better get on that.

You just took for granted that I want to skinny-dip.

It doesn't happen very often, but I'm in an emo/indietronica mood today. It's a mild 75 degrees outside, I just got home from work, I'm a little high, drinking a cool beverage and as relaxed as the gal posing on the beach in Duran Duran's "Rio" video. What better time to think about love, '80s hits and skinny bespectacled boys in thrift-store-found Penguin cardigans and dark denim jeans with the cuffs rolled up?

If you've been reading my blog a while, you've already met with some of the somber, twee, decidedly emotional covers found on one of the sweetest little out-of-print cover albums out there, Double Agent 1980. (The Softies doing Rick Astley's "Together Forever" and Class doing Bonnie Tyler's "Total Eclipse of the Heart," remember?) Today, I bring you a few more from that wondrous pearl.

Class "We Don't Have to Take Our Clothes Off" (Jermaine Stewart cover)
I was 12 or 13 when this song was popular and a pretty big nerd, and even I thought this song beyond laughable. My friend Julie and I mocked it so incessantly, that "we could dance and party all night and drink some cherry wine" became a part of our everyday vernacular. It was the perfect sarcastic neo-adolescent retort to any inquiry in the "I don't know, what do you wanna do?" genre. I'm considering a renaissance.

My Favorite "Modern Love" (David Bowie cover)
I don't know what to tell you about this. I can't decide whether I love or hate it. The "drums" remind me a little of Boyracer or Space Needle and I like them ... hmmm. What I do know, however, is that you can tell that the bands on this tribute disc really love these songs. They're not doing it just to be clever, and that's refreshing.

Tullycraft & The Incredible Force of Junior "Hold Me Now" (Thompson Twins cover)
When I was 12, I think, my mom and I went to Washington DC for a short vacation. While there, I noticed a poster on a phone pole that said the Thompson Twins were playing that weekend and Missing Persons was opening. I begged my mom to take me. Of course, she kept saying no. In retrospect, I'm glad she did. Attempting to try to explain to my mom the purpose of Dale Bozzio's transparent plastic bra cups is not my idea of a good time.

Here's some stuff.

I'm at home sick today, so I might as well post some songs while my computer is actually working for a change, yes? I'm sure you'll forgive my fatigue and lack of desire to pontificate on these gems. Right?

Paul Gilbert "2 Become 1" (Spice Girls cover)
Now, I could see a postpunk pop band covering this for humorous effect on a soundtrack or something, but a guitar virtuoso? Not so much. I had no idea how much I was longing to hear a guitar solo in a Spice Girls ballad until now.

Tori Amos "'97 Bonnie & Clyde" (Eminem cover)
Em's version is pretty creepy on its own, but leave it to Tori to make it downright nightmarish.

I'm the one who loves you. I'm the one you need.

Madder Rose "The Love You Save" (Jackson 5 cover)
The original "The Love You Save" by the Jackson 5 is one of my favorite songs ever. It makes me so damned happy. Its lyrics are simultaneously both inane and deep (well deep for a very young MJ, anyhow) and its rhythm and pacing are invigorating. The urgency in Michael's voice is palpable. God, they were a great pop outlet. [Insert requisite "too bad Mike's completely twisted now" comment here.]

Why Madder Rose had to come along and mope up this already perfect song is beyond me. I wanted to like their version, and perhaps convinced myself I did for a while back in 1994 when I bought this single, but now it seems significantly more bland than it did then. Maybe if the vocals were softer, as if Ida were covering it, I'd endorse it with more fervor. Or maybe if the singer didn't sound just so damned bored. When it's on, I find myself sighing exasperatedly and doing that "speed the fuck up already" hand motion in the direction of my speakers. I mean, nothing's more annoying than ennui for ennui's sake.

All of that said, I have a few friends who absolutely love this version and think it's sweet and poppy and, I suspect, would definitely use it as part of the soundtrack to the movie of their lives. You know the finally-about-to-make-out-with-the-dreamboy-she's-been-chasing-the-whole-movie scene? Yeah. Right there.

James Last "Don't Go" (Yazoo/Yaz cover)
I want to be able to tell you all about the strange phenomenon of James Last and his cover-mad orchestra, but I'm exhausted and must go to bed. Check out this great little bio over at Space Age Pop, and definitely scroll down and click the link you find there to his official site, on which he refers to himself as "The Gentleman of Music." Weird. I thought that was R. Kelly.

This cover is full of life, but the necessity for it escapes me. And the idea that fans clamor for it? Mind-boggling.

Still, I like the horns. And picturing middle-aged swingers decked out in rhinestone-encrusted gowns or polyester leisure suits ballroom dancing to it while drinking champagne spritzers and laughing dramatically as if they're having the best time in the world.

I have many scary visions in my head.

Through the storm, we reach the shore.

Bauchklang "With or Without You" (U2 cover)
I'd be lying—a lot—if I said acapella songs didn't totally freak me out. I find them creepy in a way that I'm sure no one could possibly understand since I don't quite understand it myself. Perhaps some regression hypnotherapy might reveal that as a child I was molested by a barbershop quartet, but that seems highly unlikely. Whatever. All I know is that I look upon acappella covers the same way I look upon shows like Showbiz Moms & Dads, Fear Factor and The Swan: with shock and horror that they exist but simultaneously with the incapacity to turn away from them because I desperately crave to engulf myself in their utter sadness. Subsequently, I then feel better about myself for having survived it.

Bauchklang bills itself as a "vocal groove project," which of course gives me the creeps, calling to mind the "cool enough to get high, but not cool enough for anything else" brand of ex-band/choral dork—like this guy I vaguely knew in college who wore a pocket protector and who was always trying to get someone to "jam" with him. But, actually—and I can't believe I'm saying this—they seem pretty cool. At least for an avant-garde Austrian vocal group that sounds, in parts, almost like electronica. (Heh. Electronica. Even the mention of it amuses me. It's sooooo '90s.) If I were in Europe and found out Bauchklang were playing, I'd definitely go. Especially if getting high first were an option.

Still, there's something irksome about it. In fact, I've created this reality in my head in which I'm in Austria as a foreign exchange student and I get really hooked on Bauchklang. All the cool kids in the little Austrian village I'm in are obsessed with Bauchklang. I begin throwing them into all of my conversations simply because I love the guttural sound of it. When I return to the States, I rave to everyone about Bauchklang endlessly. My American friends get sick of it. About a year later, Bauchklang tours the States. I get tickets for me and my friends, convinced that they'd love Bauchklang if only they could see the band's live show. As the show starts and the band begins its introductory "vocal groove project," it dawns on me that I've just brought my hip American friends to the musical equivalent of the Blue Man Group. They immediately ostracize me. I spend years in therapy thereafter, lamenting the demise of my hipster clique. I'm in my mid-40s and I have five cats. When no one else is around, which is almost always, I still sometimes listen to Bauchklang ... and I cry.

Hahaha. I'm talky tonight. And insane.

You love it.

Also: "With or Without You" is lyrically void. If the hooks weren't as sweet and catchy as they are and if Bono's voice didn't sound so damned earnest, it would likely have rivaled "We Built This City" for the No. 1 position on that Blender poll no one—myself included, apparently— can seem to stop talking about.

Was I surprised? Yeah. Was I surprised? No, not at all.

Richie Stephens "I Wanna Hold Your Hand" (Beatles cover)
Former member of Soul II Soul's R&B/Slow-Jam/Contemporary Gospel take on the Beatles. So ... bad. Seriously, right now this is No. 1 on the list of songs I'm certain will play on an endless loop when I'm in hell.

Jason Falkner "Pretty Ballerina" (Left Banke cover)
Man, I love the Left Banke. This is my favorite of their songs and has quintessential psychedelic lyrics that make you question what in the hell this guy is talking about. Was the ballerina real? Was she just a dream? Just take another hit and it will all become clear.

Likewise, I love Jason Falkner—even though he's a shapeshifter. By that I mean that, in some pictures, I find him stunningly attractive and in others quite abhorrent. Other than that, Jason as a one-man powerpop band is pretty damned brilliant.

I've got all my life to live and I've got so much love to give.

My computer is still slowly dying and everything I do on it takes about 10 times longer than usual, so I'm behind on checking all the lovely blogs I normally do. I got a chance to check a few today, and thought you'd all be interested in the cover of the Divinyls' "I Touch Myself" by the Scala Choir in this Fluxblog entry. It's one of the thousands of songs I have in my own collection, which will take hundreds of years to share unless I get more web space sometime soon.

Also, the Tofu Hut has a cover of "Big Girls Don't Cry" and a version of the original sea chantey of the Beach Boys' "Sloop John B" fame.

And over at Songfight's Cover Fight, there was a country challenge (which somehow also involved Devo?) goin' on. Most of the tracks there are still downloadable.

Unrelated: Is anyone else out there obsessed with cable's Trio network? I just can't get enough.

And, no, I'm not on any drugs right now.

The following tracks are both from the quality tribute album Read: Interpreting Bjork. The first is one of those lounge-y "Girl from Ipanema"-sounding covers that has lots of potential to annoy, but instead charms. The second is basically your standard-issue "geeks with guitars" brand of cover, but it's by our new hipster overlords, so I'm legally required to love it.

Blanket Music "Hyper-Ballad" (Bjork cover)
"Hyper-Ballad" always reminds me of The Day Acid Came to Bloomington.

It was winter (either late 1995 or early 1996) and early one evening Ryan invited me over to his house to drop acid. I'd done acid once before, but with minimal success. We took a couple of hits and proceeded to listen to music and wait for the effects to hit. The albums of choice: Bjork's Post and Pulp's Different Class. At first, I barely noticed either playing because I was engrossed in visuals my continuous games of computer solitaire were creating for me. Later, I couldn't help but notice Bjork's rapturous howling and vividly imagined myself standing on a snow-capped mountain wearing a flowing white glow-in-the-dark gown throwing "car parts, bottles and cutlery" into a raging ocean. Later still, I struggled for an hour attempting to get the candy I didn't even want out of a pink transparent plastic replica of a cell phone we got at the gas station across the street.

A few hours of freak-out ensued, and we took an insane cab ride to Second Story to see some band. (Ryan, do you remember which?) As we walked in the club, to which we had just been two nights before, everything was different. The entrance was newly painted and decorated with a string of lights. Once inside, incredibly confused, we waded through the crowd toward the back of the bar where there used to be a large booth and table in the hopes we could snag it before the hipsters did. But when we got to the back, the booth was gone. All that remained was one tiny bar table and a video golf game. Come to think of it, maybe the strings of lights were back there, but whatever.

The place was packed and I was having a difficult time with the prospect of having to interact with anyone, though that didn't stop me from having a conversation with my crazy friend Aaron in a mixture of French and Italian. Ryan and I continued roaming and I somehow wound up in a conversation with an acquaintance named Chuck who was in a band called Lessick's Kid with my friend Brian. He kept rambling on and I was trying so hard to hold onto the words he was saying and assemble them in my head so they'd make sense, but it was really difficult. Then he said something I could grasp, "Okay, Liza, what are you on?" "Um, acid," I replied. "ME TOO!!! And so is so-and-so and so-and-so and so-and-so. Half of the people here are." I suddenly felt predictable and lame. Chuck continued rambling on about who was on what drug and I tried to focus my eyes on his face and his moving lips but all I could see was me back on top of that cliff in the glowing dress throwing myself into the waves below.

Ben Gibbard and Ben Barnett "Joga" (Bjork cover)
Apparently at some point in the '70s and '80s, the Gibbards, the Kwellers, the Lees, the Barnetts and the Foldses must've received secret individual messages from the Indie Illuminati with orders to name their sons Ben in order that they might fulfill their joint destiny to hypnotize desperate folk like myself who suffer from hardcore geek-lust with their deadly combination of talent, quirk, honesty and—most importantly—record contracts and pretty covers. (I hear that if you fold a $50 bill just right, you can see a picture of Ben Lee and Claire Danes breaking up!)

Any day now, the music-dork masses will rise up and push the start of a New World Order involving a strict daily regime of sitting around getting high, listening to one (or all) of the Chosen Bens, musing the cleverness of their lyrics and debating whether or not today will be the day that they decide to leave the house in an attempt to buy a new pair of Vans.

And you know those dreaded black helicopters you've heard about? They're full of promo materials soon to be unleashed on the U.S.: record flats, T-shirts, iron-ons, EPs, bumper stikcers and the like. No one knows when exactly this piñata will burst and unleash the beginning of the Age of Ben, but let's just say that on March 15, 2005, you might want to carry an umbrella around with you lest a pin-back button skewer you in the head from a mile away.

Possible brain damage aside, I, for one, eagerly anticipate the rule of our new Masters of Mope.

I haven't felt so alive in years.

Earlier, a friend posed the "what song would you want played at your funeral?" question, which always strikes me as odd since I've never been to a funeral at which specific songs were played. (Seriously, kids, add the soundtrack to your will ASAP, because I sincerely doubt whatever relative and/or mortician who will wind up planning the big event will be aware of what a huge impact that Evanescence ballad had on you.)

Anyhow, I've never really thought about it because, as I said, I have this picture in my head of my mom being asked "So, what was her favorite song?" and her responding, "Well, she really liked the Bee Gees' 'Jive Talkin'' when she was 3." So, when posed the question, rather than picking some depressing dirge of a Smiths or Tom Waits song, off the top of my head I tried to think of a song that makes me feel optimistic, which is difficult feat for any song to accomplish. Unfortunately, as embarrassing it might be to cynical 31-year-old me, that song is by none other than Depeche Mode. What can I say? It's one of their most uncharacteristically light songs and it makes me happy.

I was suspicious that this cover—especially considering my ire for most things grunge (or post-grunge)—would be just terrible. That it was a product of the all-cover soundtrack to Not Another Teen Movie, which featured that god-awful version of "Tainted Love" by Marilyn Manson, didn't convince me to heighten my expectations. But when your expectations are low, it's amazing how much you can wind up liking things. I gave it a chance and really like what he did with it. I periodically get the soft, catchy little loop that he uses as an intro (and throughout) stuck in my head and it makes me happy much in the same way the original did back in the day.

Depeche Mode writing an uplifting song? Scott Weiland covering an uplifting song? I never saw either coming, but you're never too old to be reminded of the ol' judging-a-book-by-its-cover adage, I suppose.

Unrelated: I'm pretty sure I hate the new Blogger interface.

Scott Weiland "But Not Tonight" (Depeche Mode cover)

Sometimes I feel very sad.

I'm in a nasty mood today. This song usually calms me down a bit and makes me feel less like jabbing people in the neck with ballpoint pens.

Feelds "I Just Wasn't Made for these Times" (Beach Boys cover)
I'm not sure why I've been on a J-pop kick the past few days, but I do know this: Foreign tribute albums—such as Sony Japan's Smiling Pets, from whence this track comes—are 75% more likely to be good than their American counterparts.*

*An estimate. No scientific data exists on the subject.

Hey, kids, rock 'n' roll.

I don't care how rude Thom Yorke was to me when I complimented him on his fuzzy sweater before he was about to open for REM on their Monster Tour in 1995, The Bends remains to this day my favorite Radiohead album. Conversely, REM's Automatic for the People—despite the copious accolades it's received over the years or the many passionate arguments into which numerous REM fans have forced me on the topic—remains one of my most-hated albums of all time. So, yeah, it appears that I have at least The Bends thing in common with J-pop singer/songwriter Maika Shiratori. And speaking of Ms. Shiratori, I can't tell you much about her beyond the fact that she's Japanese and studied at Cambridge, which I learned from this mini-bio whose author is oblivious to the fact that he or she got her name backward.

Maika Shiratori "Fake Plastic Trees" (Radiohead cover)

Maika Shiratori "Drive" (REM cover)

A quickie for a friend.

Marc Almond "Jackie" (Jacques Brel cover)
My pal Mikey is having one of those "I've had this song in my head for days, but I can't find a copy of it anywhere" moments, so I'm helping him out. Not that it wouldn't be worthy otherwise, of course. Still, my favorite cover of this song, however, is that performed by the brilliant Scott Walker, whose Scott Walker sings Jacques Brel album is so one of my Desert Island Discs. Perhaps when I return from brunch with my mother, I'll share a track from that. Speaking of: Happy Mothers Day to all the moms reading.

Tommy Shaw asked me, "Hey, how's it going?" I can die happy now. I can go to sleep mildly amused now.

In honor of the fact that I happened stumble into Tower to rent DVDs at the same time Styx—sans De Young—was signing records, I give you two Styx classics performed by artists most people have never heard of. That's what I do.

Keali'i Reichel "Come Sail Away" (Styx cover)
What I know about Hawaiian music can be summed up in two bullet points:

When I was 2 years old and visiting Hawaii with my grandparents, I sang "Tiny Bubbles" on stage with Don Ho.

I never want to hear Israel Kamakawiwo'ole's now-ubiquitous version of "Somewhere Over the Rainbow" ever again. You know the one that was used in everything from eToys and hospital commercials to Meet Joe Black (I know, no one even saw that) to the episode of ER where the Anthony Edwards character bites it? Yeah, that one.

Polysics "Mr. Roboto" (Styx cover)
Man, the Japanese are crazy. And awesome. And obsessed with Devo. And video games. Okay, I know this does not describe everyone from Japan, but it seems Polysics fits all four bills. And though in their own compositions they come off as unique, this cover is pretty faithful to the original. Well, if Shaw, DeYoung & Co. used more vocal effects and didn't take themselves so damned seriously. I mean, I was only about 11 when they released the Kilroy Was Here album—which I, of course, have on vinyl—and the "Mr. Roboto" video hit MTV, and even I knew that the little dystopia concept they'd created was not only uncool, but also quite possibly the lamest thing ever.

A change was made.

Just so you know, as I mentioned before, the new URL for this site is now http://copycommaright.blogspot.com. If you do not change your links or favorites to reflect this and you continue only to check the http://-copyright.blogspot.com address, you will not be able to access my newer posts.

This will be the last official post I make that will be accessible at the old address.

Sorry for any inconvenience, but I had to change it in order to get my Atom XML feed to work.

When I think of the road I'm traveling on, I wonder what went wrong.

Reservoir "American Tune" (Paul Simon cover)
In the mid-nineties, my friends Ryan and Gerry and I became briefly intrigued by the feedback-rich, somewhat morose, electronic song stylings of Long Island band Space Needle. They did experimental, proggy, mechanical chill-out music in the oddest, strangely noisy way and I suppose we were drinking enough or whatever back then that it seemed groundbreaking at the time. Besides, any '90s-era band cool enough to get Roger Dean to do an album cover has to be at least worth a try, right?

A music retail slut, I also allowed my semi-obsession to branch out to all bands on the now-defunct Zero Hour label, amassing a collection of every sampler it released as well as promos of all its bands, one of which was Reservoir—the more melancholy, ambient and melodic solo project of Jud Ehrbar from Space Needle. This cover, which was available solely on the Zero Hour sampler On the House always creeped me out in a good way. The original was one of those songs from my childhood that confused me by its ability to actually make me think—about death, reflection and the uncertainty of the afterlife. (As all toddlers should.) Damn you, Paul Simon, for writing such a slow-but-poppy song about such a dark topic! I wonder if I would have been less depressed in my youth had I not been so affected by song lyrics. (Don't even get me started on how much I still long to find a lover who likes drinking piña coladas and getting caught in the rain.) This version, however, unlike the original, actually sounds as if it's about death, regret and remembrance, taking on a feel of a fuzzy funeral dirge. Nothing wrong with that.

Also: If you can get past the terrible "band" name of Portland's Kind of Like Spitting, you should seek out its heartfelt live acoustic version of "American Tune." Very good as well. (And, yes, I'll probably post it here eventually.)

Pretty boy update:

Further investigation shows that the covers created by my friend PJ, which I mentioned in the previous entry, can be acquired by heading over to The Musical Family Tree and selecting Admiral Stereo from its menu.

A lot of pretty, pretty boys that I call friends.

Weird. I was going to tell you that, if you downloaded any of the Sardina tracks I recommended a while back and enjoyed them, that you should head over to my pal PJ's site to check out some of the cover songs he's recorded—such as the Pixies' "Gouge Away," the Beatles' "Wild Honey Pie" and Komeda's "Party Goin' On"— but his site appears to have temporarily disappeared. So, keep an eye out for the its return, if interested.

The Panoply Academy Corps of Engineers "Dreamer/Crime of the Century" (Supertramp cover)
The Panoply Academy is my best friend's brother Marty's ever name-changing (click here to witness the slight alterations over the years) band. Well, one of his bands. (He's also in Turn Pale.) Marty's a dreamy, indie, vegan type that the dreamy, indie, vegan type that lives somewhere inside my overweight, increasingly conservative (in dress, not politics), omnivorous body has always wanted to openly lust after would it not be considered a little sick considering he's my best friend's brother. You know what I mean. It wouldn't work, of course, because he's obviously far cooler than I. Anyhow, Panoply is a wondrous little post-punk/art-rock outfit that sounds a little like what I imagine pop music sounding like in the future—or on other planets. This double cover might be disconcerting to those conditioned by traditional pop music (or to Supertramp purists, if there are such beasts), but I highly recommend it to the more musically adventurous or to fans of bands such as Sonic Youth, Nation of Ulysses or Q and not U and the like.

Here's the deal:

Actually, there are two deals. The first is that I've been too busy at work and at home to post new songs. See, my computer is slowly dying and what I thought might be a worm or a virus or a trojan is actually just the death rattle of a 4-year-old hard disk. So, rather than uploading songs here, I've spent the past few days burning all important files in my computer to CD-Rs in case anything dire happens. Also, I'm expecting company this weekend, and have been doing my best to use what little free time I've had to do laundry and dishes and the like so my guest won't know the true depths of my slobbishness. That's why there hasn't been a new song. Once I'm done with these massive projects, I will post more songs—until my computer finally bites it, of course.

The second deal is this: Those of you who, like me, have been having problems properly utilizing the Atom XML feed for this page on other sites should know that this problem has been caused by the dash that begins my URL. This means the URL will have to change. Though you can still read the entries up until this point at the old address for now, as far as I know, the new official URL for this site is now:

http://copycommaright.blogspot.com

Therefore, the Atom XML feed is: http://copycommaright.blogspot.com/atom.xml

If you have a site that is linking to mine, please change it to reflect the new address.

So, there you go. Make a note of it. I'll be back soon, hopefully with brilliant/terrifying covers and sparklingly witty commentary.

Love, Liza

I'll be back some time, laughing at you.

Placebo "Jackie" (Sinead O'Connor cover)
When I was about 8 years old, I attempted one summer to force myself to like mustard. All of my friends liked mustard and it was automatically added to hamburgers at McDonald's and Burger King and it just seemed it would be easier to just get used to it already. All summer, I asked for mustard on every hamburger and hot dog I ordered and pretended that it didn't make me want to retch. My parents and grandparents would say, "I thought you hated mustard." I'd reply, "No. I love it now." I was trying to trick myself into it. I was method living. By the end of hot dog season, I couldn't take it anymore and begrudgingly accepted my fate as a mustard hater, thus confusing the hell out of my family and, to a lesser extent, myself. When confronted with "I thought you said you loved mustard" accusations, I rolled my eyes as if to imply that the person asking was obviously crazy and didn't really know me at all. I figured that, if they really knew me, they'd understand that I was simply experimenting with something that everyone around me seemed to enjoy and that I didn't want to feel left out.

In the late '90s, Placebo was my mustard. I snagged a few promos of their albums. Subsequently, I persuaded the Virgin reps to get me on the guest list at a couple of their shows, winding up backstage both times and awkwardly introducing myself to Brian Molko, afraid for the duration of each handshake that he could see right through to my experimentation. Thank God he was so damned pretentious and aloof, otherwise he might've actually started a conversation with me and learned that I could barely name one of their songs. ("Um, the one where you say 'a friend with weed is better'?") But I got those albums and went to those shows because I felt I should have liked them. Whiny, effeminate Brit poppers? That's right up my alley. It can't be possible that I was absolutely indifferent to them. But I was. And I am. Even though meeting Molko left me one degree of separation from Ewan McGregor and Christian Bale. Yum.

As for the song, "Jackie" and I go way back. O'Connor's The Lion and the Cobra was pretty much the soundtrack to my depression throughout 1988. And "Jackie," as the intro track, began the ride by allowing waves of my pain crash into me like the waves crashing into the beach of the dolorous poltergeist protagonist. Heh. Or maybe not. But it was stark and pretty and ethereal and it intensified my loneliness in a good way. So, basically, I liked it and I listened to it constantly. This version, therefore, with its static-as-ocean effects and the aforementioned nasally, whiny vocals does kind of rub me the wrong way, but that's probably only because the original is so perfect as it is. But if I were 16 years old and bisexual and this were the only version I'd ever heard, I'd probably listen to it for a year or so as well, smoking clove cigarettes and wearing too much eyeliner all the while.

We're cool, we're different, and we hate things.

David Peel "With a Little Help from my Friends" (Beatles cover)
I suppose the accusations that my last entry was too "mainstream" has led us to this track today. There's little I can say about anarchist hippie street singer David Peel that can't be found here at his "official online shrine." Well, except, perhaps, that even the most avant-garde, anti-establishment anarchist still craves validation from mainstream celebrities (such as John Lennon, Jim Morrisson, Rod Stewart, etc.)—going so far as to pledge allegiance to them in spoken-word recordings and getting them to produce albums for him—in order to further his own alt.celebrity. Yep, and it takes a real rebel to continue for years to bring up said alliances. So, yeah. Mainstream? Underground? Indie? Top 40? Awesome? Awful? Whatever. If you like it, you like it. If you don't, you don't. I'm just showing people what's out there, trying my best to keep in mind that not everyone has the exact same pool of influence from which to draw*.

Taken from the third installment of the Exotic Beatles series, this track is actually not only Peel's interesting ska-soaked cover, but begins with a snippet of an interview John and Yoko gave about him (from Peel's John Lennon for President album) as well as the aforementioned "pledge of allegiance" piece (from his Bring Back the Beatles album).

*For instance, I'd never heard Dynamite Hack's NWA cover on the radio—because I don't really listen to the radio—nor had I seen the video or anything. I just found it while cover hunting and shared it.

The Dillinger Escape Plan feat. Mike Patton "Like I Love You" (Justin Timberlake cover)
I'm sharing this bootleg primarily because the gal overheard in the beginning cracks me up. She's so amused that DEP is covering JT, it's almost as if she'd never been to a concert before. I mean, I'm certainly not an expert in grindcore or whatever genre these cats fit into, but I know for certain that any band with which avant-metal guru Mike Patton is performing is likely to pull some random pop song from the charts to cover. What's more shocking and amusing to me about this track than the fact that (gasp!) a hardcore band might cover a JT hit, is that they would do such a faithful rendition of it. Seriously, if they'd tortured it the way Durst & Co. tortured "Faith," it wouldn't be here. \m/

Chinese food makes me sick.

Dynamite Hack "Boyz N the Hood" (NWA cover)
They said it couldn't be done: a handful of Austin-based Weezerphiles saturating Eazy-E's lyrics in indie-folk irony while simultaneously managing to get L[ight] F[unky] O[ne]'s terrible "Summer Girls" stuck in your head after one listen, but here it is. Well, if your brain has been as messed-up as mine has been by crappy bands likely to be featured on the White People Co-opting Black Culture Network anyhow. Whichever the case, you have been warned.

There's a girl right next to you, and she's waiting for something to do.

Chris Tart "Love the One You're With" (Crosby, Stills & Nash cover)
Now, I know that Stephen Stills and Co. experimented with many mind-altering substances, but said knowledge doesn't explain why the non-drugged masses were so quick to embrace this song. I mean, I'm right there with them on the "love the one you're with" sentiment, but am I wrong in my assessment that the rest of the chorus is just plain disconcerting? Eagles? Doves? A rose in a "fisted glove"? A fisted glove? Sounds, um, dirty. I bet this song was big with the '70s renaissance faire set. This cover came into my life via a promotional copy of the Robbie Robertson-produced soundtrack from the Affleck*/Bullock suckfest Forces of Nature, which featured a few other covers that are perhaps better than this. (Come on, I know you want to hate it as much as I do because Bono's so fucking smug, but U2's "Everlasting Love" is pretty damned good. Ditto Swervedriver's clicky intro on their version of "Magic Bus," which you can hear below.) Then again, Chris Tart's funky groove on LTOYW isn't bad. And its a better fit, really, for a "your boyfriend's out of town, baby, let's just fuck already" song than the original—the strange, flowery mythology of the chorus aside.

Now for a question more pressing than those raised by the aforementioned Young Lovers in XXX Fisted Glove Action: Who in the hell is Chris Tart? Supposedly, at the time of this soundtrack's release in 1998, he was signed by Dreamworks and he has since also had an original song featured on the Sidewalks of New York soundtrack, but I've yet to find evidence of the full-length release from him. And there's a dearth of information on him on the Net (Ooh, The Net! That was another Bullock classic!) that isn't about this specific cover, which just seems odd. If he never becomes somewhat famous, the chances of one of his siblings approaching me in a bar to brag about him are slim to none. It makes me so sad.

*Blogger's spell check suggests waffles instead of Affleck. Come to think of it, waffles do sound pretty good right about now. Affleck? Not so much.

Swervedriver "Magic Bus" (Who cover)
As I said, this is a competent cover, which isn't surprising considering it comes from a band so obviously influenced by the Who. More impressive than its listenability, perhaps, is the fact that the often overindulgent and drone-prone Swervedriver managed to keep its length under four minutes.

Golden blunders come in pairs.

All day I kept thinking I'd get a chance to posts these, and all day the chance never arrived. Now I'm home and, admittedly, quite a bit drunk and feel the need to just get it all out of the way. Hope you're cool with that.

Ringo Starr "Golden Blunders" (Posies cover)
You can't swing your arms on Soulseek without hitting an indie cover of a more mainstream artist, but the opposite is rarely true. Alas, I present you with the least popular (but most indie, by far) Beatle covering the Posies' epic poppy tale of unwanted pregnancy. Not terribly good, really, but interesting just because it exists.

Note: The Posies' Dear 23, from whence the original surfaced, was one of my most-listened-to albums of the early '90s—you know, back when I was deep and depressed but still excessively commercial and accessible.

Lb (aka Lassigue Bendthaus) "Angie" (Rolling Stones cover)
Uwe so crazy! (Heh. I kill me!) Perhaps you're familiar with Uwe Schmidt's pseudonym Señor Coconut and his Latin Kraftwerk cover album. If not, there's this c-r-a-z-y German DJ (aka DJ Atom Heart) who loves electronic music who did a Latin-lounge Kraftwerk cover album under the name Señor Coconut. So there you go. Today's featured cover, conversely, comes from Pop Artificielle, his album of non-Latin, glitchy, electronic covers of random hits that he recorded and released under the pseudonym Lb (or Lassigue Bendthaus), which is pretty damned cool—especially considering he somehow managed to make ABC's "Be Near Me" almost seem like a good song.

There's a million things to be, you know that there are.

There are a handful of movies for which I will abandon my life when I stumble upon them on TV, and Harold and Maude is right up there at the top of the list. Dammit, if that movie doesn't always make me happy. And, yeah, the story and the way it's told are great on their own, but you have to admit that the Cat Stevens soundtrack pushes your emotions even further into places you'd never thought they could go while watching a movie featuring a near-teenager sleeping with an 80-year-old woman. And I love those songs. In fact, I love a lost of Cat Stevens songs—as long as they're not the ones my crazy Stevens-obsessed choral teacher forced us to sing in the 5th grade. ("Morning Has Broken" and "Moonshadow," I'm looking in your direction.)

Anyhow, I love these songs and I'm glad to see others do as well. So, today is a celebration of songs that remind me of a movie that makes me intensely happy. Enjoy.

Death by Chocolate "If You Want to Sing Out, Sing Out" (Cat Stevens cover)
I'm warning you now, this is the only bearable track on Death by Chocolate's eponymous debut album. And it is intensely bearable, at least partially because it's one of the most charming songs ever written. And, as I've mentioned time and again, I've got a weakness for indie gals (sort of) harmonizing old songs into new ones—even when I suspect they were lame enough to use the name of an Eddie Izzard bit for a band name. Ugh. Talk about an overrated hack.

Kristin Hersh "Trouble" (Cat Stevens cover)
My sole Kristin Hersh story goes something like this: Sometime in the early mid-nineties, my pal Ryan and I hit the local college town bar on dime beer night. The name of the band playing escapes me, but I don't believe it was one we actually liked. We were just bored and even the worst cover band can be surprisingly listenable when you need only spend one dollar to become totally plastered, yes? The place was, as you might predict, overrun with guys in flannel and baseball caps and gals likewise in flannel but in bell-bottoms or whatever ridiculousness was trendy back then. Ryan and I were the bespectacled townie (well, I was a drop-out, actually) types who looked out of place. You know, we were the kids that people would approach saying, "Hey! Buddy Holly glasses! Just like that song!"

Anyhow, we're lurking near the restrooms when a clean-cut, flanneled type catches our eye and makes his way over to us. He says hi and then, pretty much out of nowhere, he asks us, "Hey, have you guys ever heard of Kristin Hersh?" We reply, that, of course, we have. Flannel's eyes light up. "Really?!" I tell him that I was just thinking of buying Hips and Makers the other day and Ryan says, "Yeah, I saw Throwing Muses open for REM on the Green Tour." Now Flannel's near ecstatic. Just as we're about to ask, "What's with the Kristin Hersh quiz?" he offers an answer, "I'm Kristin's brother!" Ryan and I smile and tell him something along the lines of "that's cool." He tells us he's in town visiting some friends or whatever.

Now our story gets even stranger. Flannel Hersh wants desperately to convince us that he is, indeed, Kristin's brother and offers to "prove it" by showing us his ID. Um, we believed him. We tell him that's not necessary, but his hand is in his pocket and his wallet's out. Well, look at that. His last name is Hersh. Yay for him. Then I ask him, "So, does that mean Tanya [Donelly] is your sister as well?" He's shaky with excitement by now that we're hip enough to know his family's lineage (but, hey, we read CMJ when it was in the back-pocket size and Alternative Press back before it sucked, we know what's going on), "Yes! Tanya's my stepsister! I can't believe you know that!"

So, there we are, me, Ryan and Flannel Hersh with nothing really left to talk about. Flannel then says, "Yeah, when I saw you guys walk in, I figured you'd know. You look, you know, 'cool.'" We nod our heads in understanding and, after what seems like hours but was probably only minutes, FH goes off to join his friends who were probably there because they actually did like the cover band.

So, basically, drunken Flannel Hersh felt like bragging to someone about his big sis and knew—probably after much trial and failure with his non-"cool" friends (I mean, it's not as if he were Eddie Vedder's sister or anything)—that we were the only ones who would appreciate it. And we did. But not quite in the way he hoped, I imagine. I think we more appreciated it because it gave us a story to tell about how Kristin Hersh's brother was a little scary and overbearing. But, actually, it is nice that he was proud enough of her that he'd approach strangers to talk about her. I think.

We weren't put here just to wait, you know.

I hate to say it, but I'm not big on jazz. My theory has long been that without the smack, it just doesn't make much sense. Still, there are some jazz-vocal standards and big band stuff I can deal with. For instance, I liked Louis Prima and his ilk until bowling-shirted fans of that god-awful swing revival tormented me for years at the record store, consistently clamoring for the latest release by the Cherry Poppin' Voodoo Daddy Nut Zippers Orchestra and the like and my manager thought we should play said tripe on an endless loop to lure the credit cards from the khakis of the Gold Coast Gap-oids. Idiots.

Speaking of endless loops, prior to that, I worked at a New American/Cajun cafe back in the day that played the same Davis, Coltrane and Ellington CDs nonstop for the entire three years I was there. I swear, "Take the 'A' Train" still makes me want to vomit up potato omelettes. So, yeah, jazz and I have an iffy history, if for no other reason than I associate it too closely with predictable management and horrible customers.

That said, there is one time when I'm more apt than any other to appreciate jazz: the first really warm and sunny day of the year in Chicago. For on that day, all of a sudden, your simplest tasks—heading out to the White Hen pantry for coffee, for instance—are suddenly set to a jazzy soundtrack provided by the myriad street performers found on nearly every corner. Earlier, the clarinet melody to my theme song for the day, "The Girl from Ipanema," wafted past me on Monroe as I crossed the street after work toward the bus stop. I dropped a dollar in the bucket and continued on with a spring in my step, no pun intended. And I smiled. Jazz made me smile.

Then, when I returned home and noticed a handful of new songs on my hard drive I'd queued up prior to my departure this morning, I knew what had to be done. I had to give you your own jazz theme song, courtesy of The C-Nuts and their "this is way better than I thought it would be" album, Blitzkrieg Bop and Other Jazz Mutations. So here is a track from that. If you like this, definitely seek out the whole album. Their "Shock the Monkey" and "Tainted Love" are pretty awesome. I wish the street bands played songs like this. Maybe when I see those guys next week I'll request "I Don't Like Mondays." It would be worth it just for the look I'd get, of course, but wouldn't it be crazy if they knew it and just started playing. Ah, the realities I create in my head.

The C-Nuts "Hyperactive" (Thomas Dolby cover)

And, if you're really nice, I'll do my impression of my high school choral team's version of "Kokomo."

If you're looking for cover songs from High School bands and choral groups (and why wouldn't you be?), head over to the Tofu Hut and grab what's there right now before it goes away.

Forever's gonna start tonight.

Okay, I know that this blog does not operate in a terribly user-friendly manner. My friend Eric who always criticizes all of my endeavors—while simultaneously managing to create, to my knowledge, nothing noteworthy himself—tells me that there should be more structure to this blog. Heh. This from someone who more often than not refuses to adhere to any conventional social mores generally required to ensure successful friendships, such as the idea that it might not hurt to actually encourage his friends on a regular basis rather than to feel the need to mock or point out the flaws in nearly everything they do. But I digress, I can whine about this in my LiveJournal or something since that's what it's there for.

So, here's the deal: I'm moody and I don't have a lot of Web space. I post when I feel like posting and, in order to post new songs, I have to remove the previously featured files pretty frequently. As a result, many songs only remain up for about two days or so. Many other readers have imparted to me that they wish I posted even more frequently than I already do, which would mean that the songs would be up for an even shorter time. So, I'm not exactly sure how to please everyone, so I'm working right now on pleasing myself. When I have the time and/or inclination to post, I will. If you're afraid you're gonna miss something, I recommend you check the site either every morning or every evening. You're pretty likely to catch everything that way. If that's too much of a commitment for you, despite the fact that the MP3s disappear, the information remains. I found these tracks somewhere, you probably can too. And if you're having difficulty locating a previously featured track you feel you must have, you can always send me an e-mail and I'll do my best to get it to you somehow.

[Note: If you think I really need to institute some sort of actual schedule here, feel free to comment telling me so. If the masses deem a schedule necessary, I'll consider creating one. No promises.]

So, yeah. That's the deal. Now let's move on to the meat:

Liza Minnelli "Twist in my Sobriety" (Tanita Tikaram cover)
When you're an alternagoth teenage fag hag in the late '80s, let me assure you that nothing lures you into the mall record shop more quickly than a new Liza Minnelli album produced by the Pet Shop Boys—especially if Liza Minnelli is your namesake. Once I got Results home, I was pretty nonplussed by the whole thing. Sure, I enjoyed her cover of PSB's "Rent" enough, but it wasn't until I heard this cover of the Tanita Tikaram song (which itself had only been released originally about a year prior to Liza's version, kind of like that infernal Joss Stone "Fell in Love with a Boy" tripe nowadays) begin with that ominous dub of "Liza With a Z" that I fucking fell in love. Funny stuff, that. Or maybe it's just funny to people named Liza, I can't be sure. Either way, like a post-new-wave kitschy kudzu, the record grew all over me and, in retrospect, I think it was a pretty worthwhile piece of pre-grunge Europop. Of course, it was panned by the critics and overshadowed a year or two later by the PSB/Dusty Springfield project, Reputation, but so what? Liza sounds like a darkwave princess here. Ah, the tragedies that have since befallen our fair Liza. I wonder what sorts of fey, eyeliner-soaked freaks she'd have gone on to marry had she been signed by Projekt as she so should have been.

Class "Total Eclipse of the Heart" (Bonnie Tyler cover)
Isn't it funny how completely acceptable it is for indie kids with acoustic guitars and cheap effects pedals to hit the flattest notes imaginable and still somehow remain utterly endearing?

Not so bad at all.

John over at Tofuhut and I must be on a similar wavelength this week, as I was just telling myself, "Hey, self, you should let your readers (who aren't already obsessed with outsider music and found audio) know about Stark Effect's Mic-in-Track page, which brings you much joy." This site contains one of my favorite cover versions ever: some chick singing Dido while apparently drumming on some sort of plastic bucket. (Scroll down to 12/29/02 for this stellar track.) Many of the other tracks are equally random and brilliant in their decided non-brilliance. Have fun!

No one will be watching us.

I have to admit I'm a little too glued to my new favorite insane reality docudrama (aka Bravo's Showbiz Moms & Dads) to write much tonight, but I don't want to deprive anyone else of the insane reality of these covers that sound nothing like the originals.

Lydia Lunch & Clint Ruin "Why Don't We Do it in the Road?" (Beatles cover)
Lydia was flange when flange wasn't cool—which, as far as I can tell, was always.

Peace Brothers "Frozen" (Madonna cover)
Having run the Peace Brothers' official site through the Google translator, I have to say my favorite quote would be "'Sexbomb' (Tom Jones) is naturally only real sexy if it is not vibrated," which, I'm pretty sure is common knowledge. Whatever. I can't tell whether or not I can recommend this cover in good faith, but I will say that I've had their rockabilly chorus stuck in my head since I first heard this version a few weeks ago. I don't know where these cover-obsessed, German-speaking power-pop-punk-abilly lugs are from exactly (Germany seems too simple an answer for such a complex cast of characters), but not since Doctor and the Medics came on the cover scene have I been so perplexed by a band's look, sound or M.O.

No lesser love could so destroy a man.

Edson "I Believe in a Thing Called Love" (The Darkness cover)
Indie-folk acoustic cover of neo-glam hit by Swedish mopes, Edson. Just when you thought that one could only brave that falsetto when drowned by cock-rock guitarists.

Nick Carter "Uptown Girl" (Billy Joel cover)
Well, they can't all be worthwhile, now can they? I tell ya—especially as someone who hates the sound of young, white, tone-deaf boys singing pop hits—it was quite a challenge to decide which track from Carter's Before the Backstreet Boys: 1989-1993 to choose to share here. Do my readers want to hear a preadolescent Nick claiming to be "Just a Gigolo"? Would they prefer to hear his bumbling rendition of "Runaround Sue"? No, it was too difficult a decision to be left to me. So, 'twas my shuffle play who picked this track today. And, yes, it's as awful as you'd imagine. But, in the interest of fair and balanced reporting, allow me to share with you some differeing opinions found in the Amazon.com customer reviews of the album:

Reviewer Mark J. Dye from Saint Petersburg, FL, relays this message from LeeAnn Mercer of Seattle, WA [Note: This Dye character appears to be the producer of this album and is apparently responsible for forwarding a handful of good reviews he's received onto Amazon, the saint that he is]:

Even at age 12, Nick was awesome! I can tell you that the purchase price was worth every penny just for "Lights" alone! [Liza says: Yes, a cover of Journey's "Lights," which you can hear here along with a few others, if you're just dying to.] Nick totally NAILED that song, from the vocals to the arrangement to the exact guitar solo! The rest of the CD has been a delight as well!

Yes, I'm sure Nick had a lot to do with the guitar solo, LeeAnn. And, you're right, he did "nail" it—if by "nail" you mean fucked it so hard that it stumbled away veritably unrecognizable.

Reviewer Joalby from Chula Vista, CA says:

This cd is great. It gives you a perfect premonition to what was coming in the future. The voice is great considering his age. I love uptown girl. It is awesome plus you hear him say "I bet yo unever had a backstreet guy". Perfect foreseeing of the future. Check this and his new cd out. I bought this cd awhile directly through the man Mr Dye and now I have this new one...

Yes. These tracks were the Nostradamus of pop music, to be sure.

Some Girls (aka Juliana Hatfield, Freda Love and Heidi Gluck) "He's on Drugs Again" (Sardina cover)
This is by far the most obscure track I've posted yet, and it could very well wind up being the most obscure track I post here ever. (Don't worry though, I'll keep searching for more.) First, I need to begin with a brief telling of the story of Sardina. Or, more accurately, a brief telling of my story of Sardina.

When I lived in Bloomington, Indiana, Sardina (and, to a lesser extent, it's predecessor, The Gerunds) was one of my favorite local bands. Post-Nirvana, there were always rumors, as there were in every college town, that Bloomington was going to become the "next Seattle." It made me laugh then, and it makes me laugh now. Not because Bloomington wasn't chock-full of talented bands, but because it's funny to hear this sort of analogy from hipper-than-thou prophets whose willingness to so readily brand themselves simultaneously surprised me and didn't surprise me at all. Anyhow, when people said this, I always crossed my fingers that, if such a thing were to happen, Sardina would get the nationwide (and beyond) accolades I felt it deserved. Every time I hear the pop randomness of the New Pornographers or hear someone ramble on about how strong Neko Case's vocals are, I think, "Man, if only Sardina were around to sell these people records." Seriously, Sardina lead singer Michelle Marchesseault remains to this day an artist I credit with the most powerfully moving vocal timbre ever, let alone one I've had the pleasure to hear live on numerous occasions. And the band's music is proggy and poppy and light and deep all at once. At least half of you reading who know me and who have received mix tapes/cds from me at some point in our friendship have undoubtedly heard, and hopefully enjoyed, a Sardina track or two. Those of you who weren't so lucky, are now. My pal PJ (a founding member of The Gerunds and Sardina), has nearly all the tracks from Sardina's brilliant 1995 album Presents (and more!) available for download right here*. And, if I can locate it at some point in my messy apartment, perhaps at some point I'll share with you their cover of Harry Nilsson's "Me and My Arrow," which was always quite the crowd pleaser live.

*Please afford PJ the same courtesy I'm SURE you're affording me by saving the songs to your hard drive before playing them rather than streaming them directly from the site.

One of the saddest days of my life was my 25th birthday, June 28, 1997. (Well, I'm pretty sure it was my 25th, but it could have been a year earlier in '96, but whatever.) By then, Sardina had relocated to Chicago and looked to be in the process of getting a new album out and finally luring in the millions of fans I know they were worthy of getting. Instead, they broke up. And, on June 28, they played their farewell show at the Empty Bottle. Is this the sad part? Yes and no. The sadder part, to me, was that I drove from my parents' house in Hammond, Indiana, to see them play, but I FUCKING FORGOT MY ID. That's what you get for deciding to completely change your outfit at the last minute. I pleaded with the bouncer to let me in. PJ pleaded with the bouncer and the bartender and anyone who would listen to let me in. No dice. So, I had to drive home. About two blocks away from the Empty Bottle, the muffler fell off my car and I wound up in a Ukranian Village bar (that didn't card, of course) full of policemen waiting for my stepfather to come get me. What, it wasn't bad enough that I was missing Sardina's last show? Now I had to be stranded in the city on my birthday? Yeah, my karma was way out-of-whack that year.

Now onto Some Girls. Juliana Hatfield is in it. Yeah. Um. I could go into a whole history of how and why this project started, but luckliy, Some Girls have already done it for me in their bio. Me? I was a pretty big fan of the Blake Babies but kind of ignored Juliana's solo work, for some odd reason. Regardless, I'm happy as hell to have been provided an MP3 of this soundcheck of Some Girls' version of "He's on Drugs Again," which is one of my favorite Sardina tracks and which Some Girls performed live during their tour from time to time. The first line or two of the song is missing, but what can you do? It's still a little obscuriffic gem I'm happy to have and even happier to be able to share.

And, seriously, you should really check out the Sardina MP3s I mentioned above. Sadly, a few of my favorites are missing (such as "The Formula" and "Hey"), but "I'll Be Around" is there and it's pop-a-riffic. And, of course, the original of "He's on Drugs Again" is there as well. So, get to it. Loving Sardina should be your Easter goal.

I'll tell you what you want—what you really, really want.

Tina Turner "You Ain't Woman Enough" (Loretta Lynn cover)
I love Loretta Lynn. I don't know how many of my friends are aware of the depths of my admiration for her, but I'm coming out now. When I'm doing nearly any domestic activity, there is a 90-percent chance I'm listening to her greatest hits—my favorites of which are of the "just because my man fucked you doesn't mean he's not still my man" variety, which this track surely is. (Although my all-time favorite remains "Fist City.") You can find this cover version on about five of Turner's albums, four of which are identical in track listing but which differ in title and label. My favorite of the myriad titles from which to choose is Country My Way, and not only because it was released by the always cheesy K-Tel, but because it offers the best description of the contents therein. Tina has definitely taken this track and made it sound unlike the original, yet not unlike many of her own songs. I suppose that counts as a creative process. Sort of.

Snuff "Wannabe" (Spice Girls cover)
Please, pardon me if I don't particularly find myself interested in a philosophical discussion of this 40-second thrash-punk version. It's here because it was short and I had space for it. It is what it is.

Yay. Yay. Girls!

Aroah "Cupid Come" (My Bloody Valentine cover)
From Suicideisfine, a Latin-band tribute to MBV that was produced by a Spanish-language fanzine, comes this pretty, indie-folk version of "Cupid Come." Aroah (aka Irene Tremblay), a Spanish-born singer/songwriter whose mother is American, is Europe's finest Juliana Hatfield/Mary Lou Lord/Cat Power hybrid and, when she decides to invade the States, there are going to be a lot of lovelorn indie kids worshipping her every word.

Dominique A "Teenage Kicks" (Undertones cover)
It's pretty much de rigueur that, if you're in a punk or indie rock band, at some point you're going to cover TK. Off the top of my head, I can name at least eight such bands who have recorded it (I'm sure there are more) and about 12 different bands I've seen do it live. What's completely uninteresting about all of the TK covers rattling around in my head, is that all of them were pretty faithful to the original in sound, speed and overall punk feel—or as close to faithful as some of the more talent-free bands who've done it could muster. Enter minimalist French pop pioneer Dominique A and his rarely properly credited chanteuse collaborator Francoiz Breut. Empty your mind of the adjectives you once used to describe this song (rousing? angry? adamant? anarchic?), as Dominique A has turned it into a soft French-pop love duet that sounds eerily like freakin' "Dust in the Wind" in parts.

Lisa Germano "Eli's Coming" (Laura Nyro cover—although most people are likely more familiar with Three Dog Night's version)
In my grand tradition of looking musical gift horses in the mouth, I long ignored the possibility that Lisa Germano (who lived in Bloomington, Indiana, during the same era as I) could actually be as talented as everyone said she was. I think I was biased by her stint as Mellencamp's fiddle player or something, which makes little sense to me, in retrospect, since I guess I'm sort of a Mellencamp fan. So I went along waiting on her periodically at the Uptown Cafe and never got a chance to tell her that I was a fan of her music, because I didn't know that I was or that I would be. A few years later, neither of us were in Bloomington anymore. She went off to California and I wound up in music retail in Chicago. In the fall of '96, a promo of her Excerpts From a Love Circus CD on 4AD arrived in the office and I found myself playing it on the sales floor pretty regularly and loving it. I finally got to see her live in '98 or so, and her performance was overwhelmingly beautiful. I talked to her before the show and told her I was happy to finally make it out to see her and she seemed generously appreciative. After the show, I felt like a pretty big idiot for not at least allowing myself to give her a chance back when tickets to her shows were $5 instead of $25, but I digress. Like her original songs, this track is dark, dense and textured and makes me wish I were really high right now listening to it. But I'm not. I have a job now. Must ... be ... responsible.

The shit that I promote.

Mull Historical Society "It Takes More" (Ms. Dynamite cover)
I love this track and I'm posting it because I think more people need to get interested in Ms. Dynamite and the "It Takes More" is a perfect empowering single to start with—kind of like Latifah's "U.N.I.T.Y." anthem, only easier to dance to. And if it takes a rendition (which is pretty damned good, by the way) by a white, Scottish singer-songwriter to get people to check out the original, so be it. About a week ago, I mistakenly (on a day when my stars were apparently in a Let Liza Find A Cover She Honestly Likes When She's Not Even Looking For A Cover alignment) stumbled on this track—which I later discovered was the result of a stint the Mull Historical Society did on the Re:Covered series on BBC Three—and have been listening to it frequently since. I love happy accidents. Subsequently, I've also grown to love MHS's quirky, hook-laden full-length albums. Probably not too surprising to those who know the true depths of my love for anything remotely related to Olivia Newton-John, my favorite track from said albums is one entitled "Watching Xanadu," which is a powerpoppy piece of bubblegum that melts in my mouth. If you like what you hear here, you should definitely try to check it out.

Feed "Debaser" (Pixies cover)
In the long-standing tradition of the Japanese somehow managing to make almost everything better (but significantly stranger) than anyone else in the world can, Feed has outdone itself toward continuing that stereotype with its stark dub version of "Debaser." Unlike the seemingly millions of more banal Pixies tributes out there—which, to be fair, themselves have at least a track or two that are interesting or otherwise worthwhile —the Japanese Tribute to the Pixies CD is the funny exotic cousin with iffy English to predictable compilations like the Where is My Mind? tribute. (Reel Big Fish??? Covering another band's song??? I've never heard of such nonsense! I won't believe it 'til I see it!) And maybe it's because I just subjected myself to the disturbing Japanese film The Audition on IFC the other night, but I can't help but picture the lead singer of Feed literally "slicing up eyeballs" as she apathetically recites the lyrics. Creeeeepy. Also, the "vocals" of the chien in the background? Magnifique! Insane, but magnifique.

Whatever you want to do is all right with me.

In my former life as a supervisor in the music department of the largest MegaStorders in the country, my favorite regularly assigned task (and, yes, I assigned myself the task—particularly because I didn't trust any of the department's slack motherfuckers to do it even half as well as I did) was the daunting process of alphabetizing, organizing, dividing and otherwise caring for the pop/rock compilations. It was tedious and time-consuming and ultimately futile since the minute the area was left unattended, the masses would descend upon it with fervor, examining the discs and throwing them back wherever they saw fit—most often somewhere in the adjacent Country section. Bastards!

Still, the time spent was worth it to me, if for no other reason than I became aware of every tribute album the buyers in Ann Arbor allowed us to stock and, subsequently, my vast knowledge of Trivial Shit No One Else In The World Cares About In The Least increased tenfold. That said, the unfortunate truth is that—most likely as a result of the fact that people working music retail have to sign contracts to be the most condescending, apathetic, contrary, negative, know-it-all grumps on the planet and that I was working at MegaStorders, of all places, and made nowhere near enough of a wage to actually shell out the required $18-a-disc fee for anything there that caught my interest—I was jaded as hell and immediately thought everything there to be total crap, whether or not I had anything to go on besides the album's cover and/or the record label that produced it.

One of the many CDs I often sneered at—while lovingly placing it exactly where it was supposed to be, of course—was 1998's electronica (heh, remember back in the old days before the -core and -wave suffixes affixed themselves to every fucking genre and we called it electronica?) tribute to the Pulp Fiction soundtrack. And the sorta-cool/sorta-cheesy cover art probably didn't help. Well, many years have passed since those dark (darkcore?) days, and my current daily Wellbutrin/Zoloft cocktail has retroactively allowed me to sit back, relax and float downstream toward the masterpiece of a synthcore geekwave concept album that is CyberPunk Fiction.

A song-for-song (and more, since "You Never Can Tell," "Flowers on the Wall" and "Girl, You'll be a Woman Soon" are given two versions each) homage to the original film soundtrack, CPF is honestly one of the most intriguingly fun cover compilations I've yet to find. And the spoken sound bytes emulating the dialogue-only tracks from the OST are dead-on (I'm willing to overlook the mispronunciation of Linux if you are) and are probably already in the permanent playlists of every true computer nerd in the world. Readers, please note how difficult that is for me to say: I'm not a big fan of electronic music. Likewise, I'm by no means down with the types of jokes sysadmins tell around the water cooler. Still, this tome released by the now-defunct Re-Constriction label is a true gem full of original, often upbeat, mostly unrecognizable interpretations. Synth/goth/industrial (sleepcore?) cover albums are a freakin' dime a dozen. They trudge on and on in the most predictable drone and make you want to slit your wrists—and not because you're deep like The Crow. But CPF, on the other hand, is worth a good 10 cents all on its own, probably more. Seek it out. Own it.

Christ Analogue "Let's Stay Together" (Al Green cover)
It's blasphemy, I know, but I've never understood why Al Green and Barry White are so widely considered the sex kings of the music world. Their standard slow-jam ballads are the last things I'd want to listen to while I "got it on." Those songs make me want to go to sleep rather than want to sleep with someone. I need a rhythm, a beat and lyrics sung by someone who sounds like a pretentious asshole. That's what gets me hot. I'm into havin' sex, I ain't into makin' love. This version of LST gives off the perfect fuck-me vibe—you know ... the same driving rhythm and soft-yet-gruff Reznoriffic vocals that got you hard and made you want to fondle yourself the first time you listened to Pretty Hate Machine in its entirety. (Don't deny it.)

"Electro Body Music" (spoken dialogue homage)

Collide "Son of a Preacher Man" (Dusty Springfield cover)
I go way back with Dusty. Well, as far back as someone born in 1972 can, I suppose. Let's just say I was a fan prior to her work with the Pet Shop Boys and certainly well-before 1995 when the release of Pulp Fiction skyrocketed SOAPM it into severe ubiquity. Seriously, have you seen how many American Idol hopefuls have butchered this classic? I wouldn't have been anywhere near as excited initially to hear it in the movie had I known how many sorority members would suddenly be singing it at karaoke bars, I swear. But, ironically, it's SOAPM's ubiquity that makes me absolutely adore this cover. Collide, whose name perfectly describes the manner in which this duo smashes head-on into this track and makes it their own, has done the previously unthinkable and all but erased the multiple renditions I've heard by wannabe pop stars or thong-exposing drunk girls that have been resonating in my nightmares for years now.

"User Friendliness Goes a Long Way" (spoken dialogue homage)

Forever blowing Bubbles.

Bubblegum Machine has a few pretty insane tracks up this week, y'all. Dumbledore singing "MacArthur Park" and a calypso song about Jack Palance. So commence to clicking. (And, really, you should root through the archives, because oddball covers always abound in the Bubblegum Machine.)

Likewise, hurry over to Fluxblog to catch these covers of Wire and the Pixies, which are about an entry or two away from disappearing.

Mother needs something today to calm her down.

Dolly Parton "Time for Me to Fly" (REO Speedwagon cover)
In 1989, after years of over-produced, glossy, crappy contemporary pop albums, Dolly hit big with her return to her country roots in the Ricky Skaggs-produced White Limozeen. What inspired this bluegrass cover, I wouldn't know, but there's something energetically charming about it. Though surely not everyone's cup of tea, I think it's pretty good for what it is—and it's certainly light years better than that crunchy, off-key cover of "Keep on Lovin' You" the Donnas subjected us to in the Melissa Joan Hart / Adrien Grenier "classic" Drive Me Crazy.

Marylin Suazo "Me Encuentran Bonito [Beautiful People]" (Marilyn Manson cover)
So, what started as a what should've been a simple endeavor to discover the artist of this Spanish-language track (which I found via my favorite P2P program) became an ultimately worthwhile (I think) hours-long task. Seeing it initially credited both in the filename and on Covers Project to Raras Tocatas Pencas, I knew immediately this wasn't an artist name but rather a description of it as a cover song. Well, duh, I knew that much already. Long story short, I found out that Raras Tocatas Pencas is a live show on a Chilean radio station, on which popular, presumably Chilean groups with names like Glup! and Kornfleik play cover songs as well as original hits. The show credits this track to "Marylin Suazo," which I can only presume is a pseudonym used by one of the many regularly featured performers since I can't find any other information on him/her/it. But you know what? That's good enough for me and it should be for you as well. I swear, I should be paid for this kind of dedicated research.

Polyphonic Size "Mother's Little Helper" (Rolling Stones cover)
Had you asked me a mere three days ago "Hey, Liza, what's your favorite quirky new-wave Belgian art-pop band of the '80s?" I'd have answered, of course, Plastic Bertrand and subjected you to one of the many covers of "Ca Plane Pour Moi" on my hard drive. But now I'm a little older and wiser than I was 72 hours back, and I'm pleased to announce a regime shift. That's right, I'm ending the tyranny of the self-proclaimed king of the Divan. Polyphonic Size's simple, singular, languorous (or, as I prefer to call it, langlorious) synthtastic gem, the Mother's Little Helper EP, has converted me into a believer. This cover is stark and odd and je l'aime beaucoup. I'm also newly intrigued by their 1982 Strangler-produced (as in J.J. Burnel) debut album Live for Each Moment [aka Vivre Pour Chaque Instant], which is fast becoming my favorite soothing-but-not-sleep-inducing "I'm gonna sit around and read books and magazines" album ever.

Transparent tart.

Eva "Plastic Passion" (Cure cover)
It's 1987. The dreamy effeminate boy in your drama class with the asymmetrical haircut and steel-toed combat boots is finally coming over to hang out. You spend your entire geometry class ignoring theorems and planning the perfect soundtrack for the event. You come to the decision that it should probably involve either the angular egde of early Cure or the poppy-but-goth synth intro and powerful warbly vocals of "Cities in Dust." God, wouldn't it be awesome if you could get both in one track? Alas, you're American and all of the mall record stores in your suburban hell totally suck, so you can forget about even attempting to find a copy of The Glove's Blue Sunshine, which you read about once in Star Hits. Besides, what's the point without Siouxsie's vocals? Next thing you know, he's already in your room and before you can stop him, he presses play on your obnoxiously pink plastic Sharp tape player. By the the time it hits the second verse of "People are People," he openly mocks you for buying "this faggy sell-out shit" and announces that he forgot that he had "um, something better to do." He leaves and you're crushed, all of your insecurites about your alterna-cred validated. Man, if only Eva had been there for you then. You could have at least maybe made out with him a few times before he announced his bisexuality the next year (and his homosexuality the year after that). There just weren't enough Polish coldwave Cure tribute albums back in the day. Sigh.

It doesn't hurt when it begins.

Lady & Bird "Suicide is Painless" (M*A*S*H theme song)
It never occurrred to me this song had lyrics until I was between the 7th and 8th grades. I was in some lame summer choral class at a local grammar school. (Can you say nerd?) One of the other singing classes (Or were they kids from a different school? I've no idea.) showed up at the big concert and belted this out with the raw emotion of kids pissed off that their parents wouldn't let them sit home all summer playing Atari. I remember being mildly miffed at the time that they got to sing something deep while my class was dancing around like idiots to "Consider Yourself," "The Boogie Woogie Bugle Boy of Company C" and "I Just Called to Say I Love You."

The next time I heard a version with lyrics, I was probably already in college and I flashed back to middle school and realized, "Hey! That's a pretty depressed fucked-up song to let a group of pre-teens sing at a showcase for parents." I swear, the '80s were an awesome, tubular, tripendicular time. Parents were too busy thinking about watching Miami Vice, buying new Izod shirts, snorting cocaine and drinking wine coolers to give a fuck what their kids were being taught. There were boobs in every movie and no one cared. We pop culture-obsessed geeks were free to wear O-ring jelly bracelets without fear of expulsion. The glory days, I call 'em. Just like the Boss. I was dancin' in the dark and born in the U.S.A. and my mom didn't pay any attention to anything I did. Kids today have no idea!

Now for the part where I actually sort of talk about this track: Even if this duo's version weren't soft and pretty and folky and soaking in lilting foreign accents I love so, I'd still have posted it because I love this desccription from the band's website, which I translated from the original French using my rusty romance-language skills: "LADY AND BIRD are two creatures whose origin is lost in the mists of time and who chose to be reincarnated in adult bodies in order to benefit from terrestrial pleasures." How could one not be intrigued? The rest of their self-titled album is equally charming. Fans of the Velvet Underground and Belle and Sebastian and the like should definitely check it out.