Last night I was watching an episode of “True Blood” on my laptop. In one scene, a character puts a CD on, and we hear the familiar strains of the Cowboy Junkies’ moody cover of the Velvet Underground’s “Sweet Jane”. Directors seem to love this song–I’ve heard it in movies and on TV almost as often as that darn cover of “Somewhere Over the Rainbow”.
Being a big geek, I wanted a closer look at the CD cover the character was holding. I took a screenshot–click for the large size:
It doesn’t look like any Junkies cover that I’ve ever seen. Of course, the CD’s owner is the kind of guy who would put the CD back in the wrong case. However, he’s also not the kind of guy who would own “The Trinity Sessions”, where this song originally appears. As you can see, I was troubled. Maybe the director wasn’t sure what song they’d use when they shot the scene?
As for “True Blood”, I’d give it a cautious thumbs up. It’s not brilliant television, but it’s got an offbeat, amusing story set against the creepy backdrop of rural Louisiana, a part of the world we rarely see on television.
I was recently thinking about some of my favourite songs. Or, more accurately, my favourite parts of songs. I’ve noticed a trend, in recent years. My favourite song parts often feature:
The first occurrence of the female singer in a duet.
The bridge or concluding chorus of a song which features a lyrical or vocal shift, as sung by a woman.
In short, I like it when the girl singer comes in.
To elucidate this phenomenon, I’ve created a little Muxtape, uh, mix. It begins with that classic Christmas tune, “Fairytale of New York”. I like how the song picks up and Kristy MacColl launches into the second verse with:
They’ve got cars big as bars
They’ve got rivers of gold
But the wind goes right through you
It’s no place for the old
Hurray for internal rhyme and alliteration.
Next up are two versions of “Sweet Jane”, as covered by the Cowboy Junkies. You probably haven’t heard either version. They both diverge from the original cover that has so captivated people over the years. In both cases, I love Margo Timmons’s vocal improvisation that follows the bridge. It raises the hairs on my neck every time I hear it.
After that, there’s Sarah Harmer’s moody “Lodestar”. At about the three minute mark, there’s a bit of a trumpet solo. Then the tempo increases, and the strings get serious. Ms. Harmer sings:
And wait for it, there are only two of us now
This great black night, scooped out, and this fireglow
Listen! The darkness rings
The darkness…
Listen! The darkness rings
Take off your things
The first time I heard The Stars, I was driving and listening to the CBC. “Your Ex-Lover is Dead” started, and I was drawn in by the lush opening and Torquil Campbell’s theatrical voice. Then there’s the second verse, and the unexpected wonder of Amy Millan–it’s a duet! She sings how “the scar is a fleck on my porcelain skin, tried to reach deep but you couldn’t get in”. Terrific.
Finally, there’s my newest favourite song part. “Adventures in Solitude” is a gorgeous, surreal ballad by The New Pornographers. The song creeps along at first, all piano and mandolin, with A.C. Newman on lead vocals. At about the halfway point, the pace picks up. And there’s the incomparable Neko Case, her voice sweet as Saturday morning sex. She sings poetry that seems both nonsensical and poignant:
I know you want to, work for, wait for, one more
And that is comin’ at a bad time
Some cold place
Countless ways
For all we know
Writing a post like this, it’s apparent how I desperately lack the language to describe the music the way I want.
Seth Godin writes about my beloved Cowboy Junkies. He calls it the ‘Cowboy Junkies Paradox’, because the band sold huge amounts of their first album and then have never been able to repeat that success:
The paradox occurs at their concerts… when they play one of the old hits, the crowd goes wild. The people most likely to come to their concerts are the ones most likely to encourage them to become an oldies act. Of course, once the group does that, people are going to stop showing up.
Maybe I’m being overly-defensive about my favourite band, but I don’t think they’re an apt example. They probably once were, for the first few years after the monster success of The Trinity Sessions. Because their subsequent CDs were somewhat stylistically diverse, they surely disappointed a lot of Trinity converts through the early and mid-nineties.
Today, however, the people who are most likely to come to their concerts are longterm fans. Those fans aren’t expecting to hear a lot of songs off that first album, because they have given up a long time ago. The Junkies have a smaller fan base these days, but it’s one that’s familiar with most or all of their albums, and not just The Trinity Sessions. I’ve seen the Junkies live several times, and these days fans cheers just as loudly for, say, “Murder Tonight in the Trailer Park” or “Anniversary Song” as they do for “Misguided Angel”.
To the band’s credit, they continue to be reasonably experimental on recent albums. They’re no longer with a major label, and seem pleased to be free from the restrictions that relationship implies.
I first heard The Trinity Sessions about twenty years ago, right when my musical taste was starting to form. I’d never heard anything like it–it was sleepy and ethereal, country and blues or neither or both. Looking back, it’s obviously had lasting influence on the music I’ve chosen to listen to since then. And I’m still a pretty big Cowboy Junkies fan.
They recorded the album in Toronto’s Church of the Holy Trinity with the band circled around a single central microphone. I gather this contributed to its unusual sound. Of course, the album went on to become something of a Canadian classic. Their version of the Velvet Underground’s “Sweet Jane” is still used in movies.
For the twentieth anniversary of The Trinity Sessions, the band–joined by Natalie Merchant, Ryan Adams and Vic Chestnutt (?)–returned to the church to ‘cover’ the original album. They have more microphones this time:
I’ve had a crush on Margo Timmons and Natalie Merchant since I was a teenager, so it’s kind of a thrill to see them sing together.
I’ve always admited the way the Junkies rolled with the changing music industry and their own fortunes. For example,tThey’ve always permitted bootleggers or ‘tapers’ at their concerts. They recently invited one of their ardent fans and tapers to select from the songs he recorded in 2007 for a section of their online store. If you can’t beat ‘em, and all that.
