Cup XXXII: Words and Music, Found in Translation

Tea: Lokon with Tiny Orchids

Music: One cover song (or interpretation, if you will) after another.

Time: Evening.

My music collection looks as though it should belong to at least seven people, given its range. That's not a brag about how eclectically cool I am. It's a testament to my inability to fixate on any one act (No, I don't own everything by King Crimson. Surprised?) or musical style.

Given that fact, I suppose it's only logical that the cover songs in said collection run a wide gamut -- from straight-up homages to a bluegrass version of a jazz piece (and perennial pep band favorite) to all sorts of genre-bending variations on a progressive rock standard.

Then again, it seems to me there's a difference between "cover" and "interpretation" -- the former being truer to the letter of the original, the latter to its spirit.

(Note: I'm leaving out song versions performed by ensembles containing at least one member of the original performing group, e.g., the Brian Setzer Orchestra's "Stray Cat Strut," the 21st Century Schizoid Band's "21st Century Schizoid Man" and Steve Hackett's take on "In the Court of the Crimson King" (with co-writer/Crim co-founder Ian McDonald on flute).

In the "cover" camp, we have -- among others -- George Winston's straight-up presentations of Vince Guaraldi's "Linus & Lucy," "A Charlie Brown Thanksgiving," et al., and also Go West's take on Bobby Caldwell's "What You Won't Do for Love."

The "interpretation" subset includes Jerry Douglas' dobro-centric reworking of Weather Report's "Birdland," Johnny Cash's weary, beautiful version of the Beatles' "In My Life" -- and, yes, still more variations of "21st Century Schizoid man."

Two of those strip away the vocals, and one parses the song even more. The Crimson Jazz Trio plays the intricate middle sections close to letter-perfect, even if the instrumentation is different, but turns the verses -- the song's scary parts -- soothing. It fits, somehow. Then again, so does this trippy deconstruction by Jon Bernstein of Disparition, even though only parts of the original are easily recognizable.

Then there's Johnny G's Delta blues version, which really shouldn't work. After all, King Crimson (and especially Robert Fripp) have avoided basing any compositions on Western blues scales.

But it works. Why? Because the music and the words match, even if they weren't written to fit each other in the first place. Peter Sinfield's lyrical vision of disconnect and madness shifts handily from the shrieking proto-metal/jazz fusion of the original to the spare, dark sounds of six steel strings and one metal slide.

When a straight cover works, it's pretty much due to a gift for mimicry by the band doing the covering. When an interpretation works, it's a credit to the original material (and those who produced it) as well as to the interpreter(s).

It's because things match -- important for music, not so important for socks.

Tonight's original story:

Grant Allen, "Pallinghurst Barrow"