EEK, this is for you.
There was Johnny Cash. Of course he's an American Icon. But really, I've never been a big fan. I disdain most country/western, and besides my love for music springs from beautiful or complicated harmonies. That means Power Ballads = yes, most punk rock = no. I can't generally hear lyrics, so the pretty has to be in the tune.
Tonight I've been reading IRS regs (sort of) but really I've been poring over the playlist of American IV: The Man Comes Around. This was Cash's last album. It went gold. It's all covers. I'm hearing completely novel music, even in songs I've known since early childhood (In My Life, Bridge over Troubled Water). Tonight, all new.
I don't care if I never hear Roberta Flack trill about the first time ever she saw my face, or even Trent Reznor yowling out hurt... my ears, my mind are transformed. How did the cowboy's requiem[Streets of Laredo] become an Irish dirge? How did Danny Boy become a Methodist Hymn?
I've always said that the mark of a great song is that it can be covered by diverse artists who bring something special to the song. Little Wing, by Hendrix comes to mind. Equally great whether it's Jimi himself, Sting, or Stevie Ray Vaughn.
Perhaps the mark of a great artist is that s/he can take a song and bring some untapped meaning or emotion to the surface.
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2 comments:
Absofuckinlutely.
Reznor singing...well, anything really, makes my ears hurt and gives me a headache. The Man in Black singing "Hurt" is so great and such a natural that it seems like a wonder listening to it that he didn't originate it and sing it at Folsom or San Quentin.
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