What pushes it over the top, though, is the little moment when you can hear the audience respond rapturously to the line, “But I can play this here guitar.” You sure can, George. Found on the 1977 live album Weekend In L.A., the track sails on for 10 minutes, buoyed by an insistent piano line, a stomping beat, and one of Benson’s most hot-blooded vocal takes that turns the dour lament of the original into something more defiant and almost joyous. One of the songs that helped find a crossover audience was a passionate and driving take on a song first recorded by The Drifters in 1963. George Benson, “On Broadway” (The Drifters)Īlready a beloved figure in the jazz world, George Benson became an international superstar when he decided to fold elements of soul and R&B into his already potent post-bop sound. “Arm-wrestled” becomes “mud-wrestled.” “Chuck the chuckwagon” becomes “fall off the wagon.” “If your lovin’ is good and your cooking ain’t greasy” morphs into “if the lovin’ is good and freaky and easy.” Most significantly, Father John Misty ditches the outdated verse about June Carter doing chores in the White House for President Johnny Cash and adapts it for these times: “If I ran the country/you’d be my First Lady/we’d smoke cigarettes at the end of the day/and spy on civilians and put brown folks in prison/If your dad’s got some money, I think I can run.” - Bonnie Stiernberg 26. The slowed-down tempo showcases FJM’s pristine vocals perfectly, but he also slips in a few edits to the lyrics that make the whole thing a little more Josh Tillman. Sara Birįirst things first, Father John Misty’s take on this lost Johnny Cash/June Carter duet for La Blogotheque is gorgeous.
They’re a perfect yin and yang to each other, but the profundity of Cash’s cover is on a different level entirely. Anyone fluent in Cash’s own infamous personal troubles knows that his steadfast faith got him through, and there’s a plainspoken sincerity in Cash’s working of the lyric “Reach out/Touch faith” that makes Dave Gahan’s vocals in the original seem forced and preening. “Pick up the receiver/ I’ll make you a believer,” Cash sings, and the essence is that prayer is your direct-and accessible-line to salvation. Whether this was at the suggestion of producer Rick Rubin or Cash’s doing, it’s revelatory: Jesus himself, Cash tells us, is your personal Jesus. Cash’s 2002 cover managed to turn the whole thing on its head with a mere shift in tone and a subdued honky-tonk vibe. All thumping darkness, it explores sexual power dynamics to a clubby yet menacing beat. To truly understand the greatness of Johnny Cash’s version of “Personal Jesus,” you have to be pretty familiar with Depeche Mode’s 1990 original-which isn’t too shabby itself.
0 kommentar(er)
