Drum Beats 24 Hours A Day

This is the first in an unofficial series of posts dedicated to revisiting songs that were staples of my old mix tapes and cds circa 1996-2001.

The Geraldine Fibbers “Yoo Doo Right” – This is one of, if not THE, greatest covers ever recorded. The original version by Can is fine, but compared to this, it’s rambling and lacking in power and emotion. The Geraldine Fibbers whittle the song down to one fourth of the original’s length and radically rearrange the music, giving it a newly coherant structure that retains essence of the song and plays up the lyrics’ roots in gospel and country. Whereas the Can version implied passion, the Fibbers sell the feeling with inspired guitar dissonance by Nels Cline and a showstopping vocal from Carla Bozulich that burns with intensity and desire. The instrumental section from 2:40 up through the build up to the chorus that kicks in at 3:19 easily ranks among the most powerful and affecting things that I’ve ever heard in a rock and roll song. It’s a potent cocktail of lust and love and longing and doubt, and it feels like a kick in the gut if you hear at it just the right moment. (Click here to buy it from Amazon.)

Sebadoh “Give Up” – Sometime not long after the release of Bakesale, Sebadoh performed a few songs live at the MTV studios for 120 Minutes. I haven’t seen the footage in over a decade now, but the performance of “Give Up” left an indelible impression on my young mind. I was only 14, and indie and punk was still very new to me. I don’t think it made much sense to me back then, especially since I was coming into this all on my own, and was piecing it all together mainly through magazines, 120 Minutes, and CMJ cds. If I recall correctly, all of the guys in Sebadoh looked shlubby and were wearing winter clothes indoors. The playing was very messy, and the heavy riff refrain was especially shambolic. Lou Barlow was singing in the flatest, most disaffected voice imaginable, and in retrospect, the lyrics about “a hopeless slob in his dead-end day job” and “a co-dependent self-styled nightmare” seemed almost as though he was deliberately trying to embrace the “slacker” media label. I’m not sure if I ever actually formed the thought “this is the real punk rock,” but I certainly believed it for a while, hopelessly searching for more music that was exactly like this. Some other Sebadoh songs and a good chunk of the Archers of Loaf catalog hit the spot, but I’ve mostly been disappointed ever since. (Click here to buy it from Sub Pop.)