Welcome back to another edition of Under the Covers, where Street listens to versions of old classics and assess them on the truly objective scale of 1 to “Moon River”–by–Frank–Ocean. So what are we waiting for… 




“I Was A Fool To Care” by James Taylor



First up this week is Mac DeMarco, perhaps one of the only men ever to fully and coherently pull off boho–chic, and accompanying him is his (and his touring keyboardist Jon Lent’s) cover of James Taylor’s “I Was a Fool To Care.” The original was a B–side off Taylor’s 1975 album Gorilla and is your standard, excellently crafted, not too hard hitting but not too relaxing affair that one comes to expect from the folk legend. It details Taylor’s feelings about a woman whom he knows he shouldn’t love, but does anyway. Its great, honestly; just relatable enough to be interesting but you could totally get away with playing it at your aunt’s dinner party. You feel like the emotional turmoil could be there, but, somehow, not that much seems at stake. On this album, Taylor’s lyricism is mixed with a Marvin Gaye–inspired, R&B two–step in an attempt to reinvent himself after his previous record, “Walking Man”, flopped. “Care” is the perfect mix of this blend. I’m not one of those guys who “really listens to James Taylor,” but after this song was recommended to me, I’ve since picked up a copy of Gorilla and it really is a phenomenal example of Middle America, singer–songwriting that I would heartily recommend.

Mac Demarco’s cheerful and to–the–point delivery style, alongside his warm chorus–laden guitars and retro synths create an updated take on Taylor’s style. Once again, the subject matter normally centers around his, likely failed, romantic endeavors, although he doesn’t despair. Demarco and Lent’s cover of “Care”, therefore, comes totally naturally but not to the extent that it is simply mimicry. Demarco’s lazy guitar jangle comes on a lot smoother than Taylor’s folkier technique and Lent’s synths shine through the fuzz as this cover’s distinguishing factor. Like the original, it is mellow and charming but reinvented in that lo–fi Demarco style we now know and love. The song is warmer and the building strings are replaced by Lent’s (serially underrated) chops on the keys. All in all, I’m going to have to go with the Mac on this one; the song is very much an homage to the original and its spirit is definitely embodied on the 2016 cover. Demarco’s sultry and emotive style combined with this onstage, alcohol driven antics, are another aspect of how he is an indie, modern version of Taylor, as embodied by the song’s video, where a dude with a gimp mask plays the guitar out by a lake. 



“Lola” by The Kinks



As one might expect from the rivals to The Beatles, The Kink’s themselves and their biggest hit “Lola” have plenty of mythology behind them. The song details the experience of a young man’s evening at a Soho Club in London, where he has a romantic encounter with a possible transvestite named Lola; the most famous line being “she walked like woman but talked like a man.” There are many conflicting reports surrounding whether this is true or not or exactly who the encounter is based upon. Ray Davies himself claims that it was the band’s manager, Robert Wace, who went home with ‘Lola’ apparently “too pissed [drunk] to care” about the obvious stubble. Mick Avory, the band’s drummer, offers an alternate explanation, which was that the song was based on his own frequenting of secret drag societies and transexual pubs in London at the invitation of one the band’s friends, Michael McGrath. One of the times, when Davies was invited, he wrote the song as Avory drank. 

Perhaps one of the juicier stories is that it was based on an alleged date between Ray Davies and famous Andy Warhol model and Velvet Underground muse, Candy Darling. Davies categorically denies this, however, stating that while the two had gone out for dinner, he knew the gender identity of Darling the entire time. Regardless of its origin, the song is rightfully the Kink’s biggest hit and is super easy to sing along too even after the first listen. On this particular album, Lola vs. Powerman and the Moneygoround, Pt 1 (yeah I know), the main songwriting duo, the Davies brothers sought to create a ‘Caribbean’ tropical sound, achieved by Ray Davies’ purchase of a Martin steel guitar. This is the classic clangy opening you hear, but when the bass comes in along with those classic 70s harmonies, something else beautiful happens and you have a classic 70s rock song on your hands. While this song is rather simple in its concept, the execution requires a lot of skill and musical proficiency, which the Kink’s clearly deliver. 

It was to my surprise then, when I found out that late 70s all-female punk band, The Raincoats, a band celebrated for their musical DIY approach, covered Lola on their first, self-titled album. This album is really interesting, but not necessarily the best thing I’ve heard in a while. It is raw and jam-packed with emotion, but the fact that all of the musicians in the band were still learning their instruments is really quite obvious. While the “punk spirit” is definitely about heart and authenticity more than musical skill, I don’t think that it should be an excuse to make music which sounds worse. Not to say that The Raincoats' album lacks merit but I think the gap in skill between them and the Kink’s is palpable. I’m a huge fan of Sleater Kinney, Carrie Brownstein’s old band, who gained a lot of influence from this group, but even I think that the Kink’s original version is much better. 





That’s all we got time for this week, folks, and while I didn’t deliver on last edition’s promise of R–E–S–P-E–C–T and Musiq Soulchild, I will cover those next time if you’re lucky. Hope these covers were cosy enough to embolden you against the bitter snow.