Covering the songs of contemporaries used to be more the rule than the exception in the younger, more innocent days of pop music. No one batted an eyelash when The Beatles covered The Shirelles (Baby It’s You), or when The Beach Boys did a boy version of The Crystals’ Then He Kissed Me (it was Then I Kissed Her, which is very Mad Men). But when alt-country singer-songwriter Ryan Adams came out with his earnest track-by-track cover of Taylor Swift’s “1989” album this week, a number of eyes rolled heavenward, and in the case of indie singer Father John Misty, a satirical cover of Ryan Adams covering Taylor Swift in the style of The Velvet Underground was recorded. I didn’t get the joke either.
Maybe it’s time for the music world to open its eyes (or ears, I guess). As some positive reviews of Adams’ latest effort indicate, there might be more room in our shared Internet-driven culture for more artist-on-artist nods. Other musicians may learn a thing or two from Adams’ experience in producing his “1989” tribute. “These songs are incredible,” he said in an interview with Grantland. “You break them down from what they are to this raw element, and they’re just super powerful and they can tear you up.” This micro approach reveals a truth about the dynamic between songwriting and song appreciation: Any song, once it inhabits your mind, becomes yours. Ownership is only nominal.
Ironically, Adams’ rendition of “1989” is what the album might sound like if Swift recorded it as a more traditional Taylor Swift country album. It really is Adams paying tribute to Swift, which is kind of gross, especially since her reputation has taken a nosedive in recent months, but it is also what she actually needs right now: because the songs are actually good. Out of the Woods is now a moving folksy ballad. Blank Space is now a melancholic cry. Shake It Off now sounds like an introspective song by indie rock band War On Drugs. Taylor Swift somehow sounds interesting again.
Ryan Adams has opened up some sort of Pandora’s Box for 21st century music. It makes one wonder: What other pop artists could use a little bump from rock’s critical darlings? Let’s look at some possibilities:
Bruce Springsteen does Miley Cyrus
Flaming Lips frontman Wayne Coyne, who appeared alongside Miley Cyrus in her rehearsal for this year’s MTV Video Music Awards, and apparently is her new BFF, is the obvious choice here, which is precisely why we’re not going with him.
Writer Jason Hartley’s Advanced Genius Theory posits that the highest possible artistic achievement is “advancement” — the state in which you’ve zoomed years ahead of existing trends and have become completely incomprehensible in the context of your time. Based on the theory, Miley Cyrus is not advanced (shocking news). She is what Hartley calls “overt”: an artist who predictably does the opposite of what is expected, in Miley’s case, for attention.
“Advanced” artists do what is not expected at all. The Boss covering Miley Cyrus would not only be mind-blowing and possibly awesome (imagine Wrecking Ball as a plaintive “Darkness on the Edge of Town”-era Springsteen dirge), it is undeniably “advanced.”
Björk does Lana Del Rey
There are a number of similarities — both are singer-songwriters and both can very well be insane. The major difference is that Björk’s insanity seems charmingly genuine while Lana Del Rey’s, like most of her shtick, seems laboriously contrived. Björk can finally supply the realness and the vocal chops that Del Rey’s songs lack. I can already hear her sing “All I wanna do is get high by the beach, get high by the beach, get high” in her childlike Icelandic drawl. In fact, I can’t remove that line from my head now.
Foo Fighters do One Direction
One Direction doesn’t really need any help from anyone, seeing as they already own huge tracts of the Internet. But beloved member Zayn Malik did just leave and the band will be on hiatus next year, so there’s a void that needs to be filled.
Musically, Foo Fighters makes a lot of sense, since One Direction recorded some of the most polished power pops of the last few years on their album “Midnight Memories” — something Foo Fighters frontman Dave Grohl, a devout rock aesthete, would surely appreciate. But he also tends to look down on newbies and talk as if he invented rock ‘n’ roll after jamming with Muddy Waters back in the day, so maybe he’s not exactly inclined to perform songs by shaggy-haired kids.
But it would be nice to hear Little Black Dress given more muscle and edge by the Foo Fighters’ sound. Combine the power of rabid Directioners with the Foo Fighters’ ability to trend on social media by basically doing anything, and we may have the perfect recipe to finally break the Internet.
Radiohead does Katy Perry
Notorious curmudgeon Thom Yorke probably won’t be too thrilled to do this: If he’s retroactively embarrassed by his band’s perfectly fine first hit, Creep, then there’s not enough hallucinogens in the world to convince him to cover Katy Perry songs. But just imagine, for a moment, Yorke’s signature whine singing, “Let’s go all the way tonight, no regrets, just love.” Or Jonny Greenwood’s loopy guitars swarming around “Baby you’re a firework! Come on show them what you’re worth!” If no one wants to hear any of that, then there’s really no hope for the human race.
Prince does Carly Rae Jepsen
Riding the glitzy ‘80s pop time machine in her latest album, “E·MO·TION,” Carly Rae Jepsen might be better off being covered by one of the decade’s shiniest synth-pop stars. But that would require dusting off Debbie Gibson or perhaps convincing Madonna to come down from her Kaballah-sanctified pedestal. Apart from being unlikely, these two options seem superfluous. Jepsen has already perfected glitzy ‘80s pop.
What her eager and yearning album needs is sex. Enter the artist formerly known as The Artist Formerly Known As Prince — Prince. Lord of the chest hair and wet, soulful songs about female genitalia, Prince can lend Jepsen’s tension-filled album the lasciviousness it intentionally hides. He won’t cover her songs — he’ll release them. He won’t be your “sinner in secret,” as Jepsen sings in Run Away With Me; he is the sin, ripping your secrets into shreds, leaving you naked, confused, and strangely turned on.
The Beatles do Imagine Dragons
Just kidding. They’re hopeless.
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