What maketh a cover? Is it the woman in his arms, just because she has big … No, that's an obscure South Park reference. Not for this day and age.
This time, the smirking infantile smurfing inflatable men-children Andrew and Sam are discussing the art of covering other people's music (by musicians post-1970s). Whereas once songwriting was the practice of the few and performance was of the many, we now expect our guitar-based musicians to sire their own stuff.
Yet, in other musical spaces – "Western Art Music" (ie. Classical music), jazz, etc. interpreting other people's music is what is expected.
Then, what is in a cover? What are these musicians striving for? Authentic replication of the song, their own twist on it? What does it take to make a song written by someone else feel like it belongs to someone else?
And to make this more fun, they focus only on stuff done beyond the 1970s. Mainly because many of those successful musicians of the 1960s and (early) 1970s were so well-versed in the art of playing other people's music.
So, slip on your adult nappy and join us for fake news and pseudo-academic critique as Andrew feels ill and Sam recovers from his child's bout of vomiting the day before.
Also, second-time contributor Al Nicholl (of Bamalama Sing Song) briefly shares his experience of the art and joy of covering music.
### Riffs of the week
#### Dr Sam's Riff
- Anthrax - Got the Time (opening)
#### Andrew's Riff
- Bloodywood - Gaddaar (3:30)
### Dr Sam's track choices
1. Robert Wyatt - At Last I Am Free (1.56)
2. fIREHOSE - Sophisticated Bitch (2.10)
3. Two Minutes to Late Night - "Never in my Life" (0.28)
4. Dolly Parton - The Great Pretender (0.13)
### Andrew's track choices
1. Kirsty MacColl - A New England (2:40)
2. Echo and the Bunnymen - People are strange (2.50)
3. Bananarama - Venus (1:00)
4. Nirvana - Lovebuzz (2:10)
Email us - beatmotel@lawsie.com
#### A letter from Ruddiger Broomhilder
Subject: Love-Love, Game Over - Bidding Adieu to ATP
Dear Andrew Culture and Dr. Sam,
It's with a heavy heart and a twisted ankle that I, Ruddiger Broomhilder, serve this final ace to our peculiar little match. It seems my love for ATP (which I always thought stood for "Advanced Tennis Podcasts") has double-faulted into disdain.
Andrew, your last question about musicians and pizza chefs really tossed my dough into a burnout oven. I expected a slice of musical insight, but instead got a half-baked topping of irrelevance. And Dr. Sam, your melodic musings once strummed the strings of my heart, but now they sound more like a broken racket on a clay court.
I must confess, my understanding of a 'middle 8' was as confused as a linesman at a night match. And as for that drum solo query, it felt as out of place as a snowboard in Wimbledon. Your podcast, once a symphony of alternative beats, now echoes like the lonely claps of a one-man audience at a rain-delayed tennis match.
Regrettably, I'll be dropping my subscription faster than a player smashes a racket after a missed serve. It's time for me to explore other courts, where the music and tennis (or so I thought) resonate with my soul's strings.
In a twist of fate, as I pen this farewell, I fear I've trapped more than just my feelings; my foreskin seems to have found its way into the detergent tray of my mother's washing machine (again) – a fitting metaphor for our tangled relationship.
So, it's with a limp and a wince that I bid you adieu. May your podcast serve well in the future, but without me in the stands.
Sincerely flustered and forehandedly,
Ruddiger "Racket" Broomhilder
