Put it Back.

Tea: Chai with an added espresso shot

Music: Bobby Vee, "Take Good Care of My Baby"

Time: Night.

The weekly free concert at Broadmoor Park brought home a simple but oft-ignored truth: If you're going to do somebody else's song, don't rearrange it unless you can make it better.

The headlining band had some talented musicians -- especially the drummer (a friend of my son and a future rock star if he catches the right breaks) and the bassist. The problem was with the vocal mix (thin and reedy + blues = fail) and the arrangements.

"Not Fade Away" sounded like "Kansas City" sounded like "Summertime Blues" -- and they all sounded vaguely like "I Fought the Law," which wasn't even on the set list.

Oh, well. At least it was cool out, and there were still some crabapples on the trees. I'll take my pleasures where I can find them.

Cup XXXVIII: I'll Have What the Kid in the High Chair is Having

Tea: Vanilla Earl Grey

Music: Holly Cole, "I Can See Clearly Now"

Time: Night.

So I'm on a Holly Cole kick of late. But how can you not love her version of Johnny Nash's song?

This song has been through a rough, cold, rainy night. But wings aren't only for flight. Sometimes -- like this time -- they shelter. Then in the morning, when the skies clear ... it's time to take to the air once more.

And if the song isn't quite enough to cheer you up, this will. If it doesn't ... well, I'm sorry.

Tonight's laugher of a different sort (yes, it's Scary Story Time):

Damon Runyon, "The Informal Execution of Soupbone Pew"

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"

Cup XV: I've Just Heard a Voice I Can't Forget

Tea: Wild Berry Plum Green

Music: Lara Supan, "Almost Blue"

Time: Midpoint of a pensive night

OK, so I've heard this voice before. But I like hearing it. And you should hear it, too.

I found Lara Supan on YouTube, while looking for versions of Elvis Costello's "Almost Blue." Her take on the song, simply recorded in her living room, may be my favorite.

Check that. It's definitely my favorite. I love the low woodwind in her voice on this song, and the others she covers. She doesn't try to be Elvis Costello -- or Mrs. Costello, aka Diana Krall, whose version I also own and like.

And in making the song her own, she makes it achingly unforgettable. When I think of "Almost Blue" now, this is the version that leaps to mind.

Her MySpace has other songs ... and she has an EP of original material coming out this fall. Yes, I plan to order it.

Give her a listen. I'm betting you'll be hooked, too.