The element of surprise is rather overrated in art these days. Too many Scandi-noirs on TV, perhaps. But after all, once we’ve heard a song once, we know how it’s going to end. The Greeks never worried that they knew Odysseus was going to get home safely, that Hector would get killed by Achilles, that the Trojan Horse was just a ruse.
It was all in the way you told the old story. Well, here’s some old stories brilliantly re-told. You may know the punchline but it’s the journey that’s the thing.
There are some traps I’ve generally, but perhaps not entirely, avoided. It’s extremely tempting to strum an acoustic version of a pumped up tune, and stand back while the results are admired, especially if you’re possessed of a wistful voice. Iron and Wine are good at it – Sam Beam does New Order’s Love vigilantes and The Postal Service’s Such great heights as perfectly as you might wish.
But really, that requires no great effort. Lovely as the results might be, it’s the equivalent of sitting round the campfire. It takes considerably more effort to construct a mechanical version of The Smiths, a dub rendition of Pink Floyd or a shoegaze interpretation of Lee Hazelwood and Nancy Sinatra.
We’ve already featured some classic genre-hopping covers on previous episodes (please dig them out via the song index, if you’re so inclined) such as St Etienne’s almighty Only love can break your heart, The Clash’s punky Police and thieves and The Dum Dum Girls’ raucous There is a light that never goes out.
Here’s a fistful of others.
