
Three dominant strains of ‘80s pop-R&B were slim Prince-style grooves, original hip-hop and Jam-and-Lewis big-beat drama. The best and only way to close their self-titled album. Their cover removes all semblance of ‘60s idealism from the track, replacing it with their signature cowbell and call-and-response squeals, and dissolves into the irreverent chaos for which they are best known.
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Petula Clark’s ‘64 original “Downtown” has been long overused in movies and TV for cognition-dissonant soundtrack purposes-here, listen to this happy music while we show footage of a plane crash! It’s ironic! The B-52’s, however, did retro absurdity first and they did it better. Originally released by Petula Clark, 1964 But though it might not be obvious at first glance, Coil’s version is connected to Soft Cell’s: In the Museum of Modern Art-exhibited video, Marc Almond makes an ominous cameo as a kind of leather-jacketed angel of death.

All the fun is sapped from the song and in its place anguish and mourning. Four years after Soft Cell made the song into a New Wave smash, Coil’s John Balance and Peter Christopherson rearranged it into a stark, painful dirge, interpreted as such to reflect the tragedy of the HIV/AIDS epidemic, complete with an artfully dark video at that. Gloria Jones’ cult Northern Soul single “Tainted Love” has lived many lives since its original release, and even appears on this here list twice in radically different forms. Originally released by Gloria Jones, 1964 The track’s big-band swing influence generates an unparalleled warmth and familiarity, and it’s become a Sinatra staple since its release. Recording for the cover reportedly took 22 takes to perfect, and it shows. But it’s Sinatra’s version that remains supreme. Penned by the prolifically talented Cole Porter, the track earned an Academy Award nomination for Best Song in 1936, and would go on to become a top ten hit for the Four Seasons some 30 years later.

Originally conceived as an opening credits number for the musical film Born to Dance, “I’ve Got You Under My Skin” would later become a signature song for Frank Sinatra. Originally released in Born to Dance, 1936 Frank Sinatra, “I’ve Got You Under My Skin” (1956) From gender-switched contexts and wild reinterpretations to faithful renditions and star-powered exposure, descriptions of our 100 essential cover songs-and links to their originals-follow below. You can hear almost all of those in the embedded Spotify playlist. We also limited musicians to one performance slot each in our countdown, although you may notice certain original artists, sources, and songs showing up multiple times-a testament to their timelessness and versatility.Įven without considering some big names you might otherwise expect to find here, live bootlegs, radio-show one-offs, parodies and YouTube home-studio clips, we still managed to wade through and vote on hundreds of well-known and obscure covers. In most cases here we stuck with a narrow definition of eligibility: someone’s song performed wholly by someone else (who did not write the song) and officially released on an authorized audio recording after the original performer officially released it. With the recent hullabaloo involving Weezer fandom and the schlock wizardry of Toto’s greatest hits, the timing seemed right for something resembling a definitive ranking of such songs. Comprehensive as it was, we left open the question of what might be the world’s greatest individual covers. Once a common way to have music cover more territory, so-called “cover songs” are now largely novelties or tributes.Īcross four top-10 lists in 2014, Treble made a deep dive into how modern covers albums explored past artists and songs.
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But musicians and fans demanded ever-increasing originality as rock came to dominate the market, so albums full of other people’s words fell by the wayside.

At best it could be transformative, lifting both artist and label into the spotlight.

This new performance could at least ride the original’s coattails at the register, often sounding very much alike. To wit: If a traveling A&R guy heard a particularly affecting hymnal, evergreen standard or new ballad, they might ask their label to buy rights to the song and get it in front of someone on their roster. As radio, the phonograph, and musicians’ talent expanded, the practice of artists recording previously-performed songs grew more predatory. At the dawn of the modern music industry, music publishers and record labels sought wide exposure not for artists but for individual songs, hoping many performers would purchase their companies’ sheet music.
