"Can you tell the difference between these and
the original sounds?" Well now, there's a red rag waving right in
front of my nose and a challenge I can't refuse, particularly as there are two
Beatles songs on here, alongside others as era defining as Procul Harum's 'A
Whiter Shade Of Pale'.
You've got to admire the ambition of the people behind this if nothing else; it's a challenge akin to a painter and decorator having a crack at replicating the Sistine chapel on a toilet ceiling. But I'm not going to generate any cliff-hangers or leave you in suspense - having listened to it now I'm going to say upfront that yes, I most certainly can tell the difference between these and the original sounds.
In fact, after slogging through some this, I think a deaf person with ear plugs in could probably tell the difference between these and the original sounds too. Normally I'd pull my punches on these cheap and cheerful compilations of cover versions and recognise them for what they are - that is, cheap and cheerful compilations of cover versions. But as it's the record itself that's raising the bar by promising the world then I feel justified in taking off the gloves and giving this a good pasting.
Natural curiosity meant I headed straight for the above three songs first, and as far as they go then let me tell you 'When I'm 64' re-locates Paul McCartney to somewhere in North London with a vocal that manages to start a beat too early before every single verse, 'All You Need Is Love' is draggy and anaemic with the same singer casting John Lennon as some whiney, proto Johnny Rotten, while Matthew Fisher's previously stately Hammond on 'A Whiter Shader Of Pale' is reduced to a chesty asthmatic wheeze with Gary Brooker's vocal now the sound of the constipated straining to defecate. In short, nobody is going to be fooled by any of them: these versions are to the originals what own brand budget cola is to Coke - that is, insipid imitations that only manage a cosmetic, surface similarity to the product they're essentially ripping off.
Elsewhere it's a similar story, the back cover gives a potted blurb about the original artists behind 'The Day I Met Marie' (Cliff Richard), 'I'll Never Fall In Love Again' (Tom Jones), 'San Francisco' (Scott McKenzie) et al, but while the actual music is perhaps of lesser importance (after all, nobody listens to a Tom Jones song because of the drum patterns), the songs fail the acid test the record itself sets in that the Smash Hits 'Tom Jones' sounds nothing like his real life counterpart, the Smash Hits 'Cliff Richard' sounds nothing like his real life counterpart and the Smash Hits 'Scott McKenzie' sounds nothing like his real life counterpart, all of which kind of goes against this record's whole reason for existing and begs an investigation from the trade description people.
It fares better on the female fronted songs, with 'Puppet On A String' (Sandie Shaw) and 'It Must Be Him' (Vicki Carr) being passable-ish copies if you're not that picky, though pride of place goes to whoever was behind 'Don't Sleep In The Subway' as, in both music and Petula Clark soundalikes, it comes pretty close to what the cover promises. As this is song one, side one, I kind of get the feeling the folk behind this record knew that too so they front loaded it with the best. But for the rest of it, whatever twelve and six is in new money, it's way too much to pay for your own disappointment.
You've got to admire the ambition of the people behind this if nothing else; it's a challenge akin to a painter and decorator having a crack at replicating the Sistine chapel on a toilet ceiling. But I'm not going to generate any cliff-hangers or leave you in suspense - having listened to it now I'm going to say upfront that yes, I most certainly can tell the difference between these and the original sounds.
In fact, after slogging through some this, I think a deaf person with ear plugs in could probably tell the difference between these and the original sounds too. Normally I'd pull my punches on these cheap and cheerful compilations of cover versions and recognise them for what they are - that is, cheap and cheerful compilations of cover versions. But as it's the record itself that's raising the bar by promising the world then I feel justified in taking off the gloves and giving this a good pasting.
Natural curiosity meant I headed straight for the above three songs first, and as far as they go then let me tell you 'When I'm 64' re-locates Paul McCartney to somewhere in North London with a vocal that manages to start a beat too early before every single verse, 'All You Need Is Love' is draggy and anaemic with the same singer casting John Lennon as some whiney, proto Johnny Rotten, while Matthew Fisher's previously stately Hammond on 'A Whiter Shader Of Pale' is reduced to a chesty asthmatic wheeze with Gary Brooker's vocal now the sound of the constipated straining to defecate. In short, nobody is going to be fooled by any of them: these versions are to the originals what own brand budget cola is to Coke - that is, insipid imitations that only manage a cosmetic, surface similarity to the product they're essentially ripping off.
Elsewhere it's a similar story, the back cover gives a potted blurb about the original artists behind 'The Day I Met Marie' (Cliff Richard), 'I'll Never Fall In Love Again' (Tom Jones), 'San Francisco' (Scott McKenzie) et al, but while the actual music is perhaps of lesser importance (after all, nobody listens to a Tom Jones song because of the drum patterns), the songs fail the acid test the record itself sets in that the Smash Hits 'Tom Jones' sounds nothing like his real life counterpart, the Smash Hits 'Cliff Richard' sounds nothing like his real life counterpart and the Smash Hits 'Scott McKenzie' sounds nothing like his real life counterpart, all of which kind of goes against this record's whole reason for existing and begs an investigation from the trade description people.
It fares better on the female fronted songs, with 'Puppet On A String' (Sandie Shaw) and 'It Must Be Him' (Vicki Carr) being passable-ish copies if you're not that picky, though pride of place goes to whoever was behind 'Don't Sleep In The Subway' as, in both music and Petula Clark soundalikes, it comes pretty close to what the cover promises. As this is song one, side one, I kind of get the feeling the folk behind this record knew that too so they front loaded it with the best. But for the rest of it, whatever twelve and six is in new money, it's way too much to pay for your own disappointment.
No comments:
Post a Comment