A great deal of the popular music in the first half of the 20th century was conceived and written by songwriters, but popularized by performing musicians; someone who did both was the exception, not the rule. Oh sure, there were a few exceptions--Hoagy Carmichael is one that comes to mind--but the modern singer/songwriter era in which the creative process encompasses writing, performing and recording didn't really kick in until the emergence of Bob Dylan and the Beatles in the 1960s.
I can't think of any great Beatles covers offhand, but one of my all-time favorite Dylan covers is Jimi Hendrix's version of "All Along the Watchtower," against which I measure most efforts to interpret the work of other songwriters. The song consists of three simple verses built on three chords--no bridge, not even a chorus--but the way Hendrix interpreted its vivid imagery is nothing less than astounding. I still crank the volume whenever I hear it.
For some reason, country music seems to have had more than its share of singer/songwriters. From Jimmie Rogers to Dolly Parton to Lyle Lovett, there have been some great ones. One of the most well known is Hank Williams, who left a sizable legacy of song when he died at the age of 29 on New Years Day in 1953.
"Cold Cold Heart" is, for my money, one of Williams' greatest achievements. The song relates the feelings of someone who understands why he's been rejected but still wants to know how to go about melting his beloved's icy demeanor. Williams scored a hit with it in 1951, and his version is a classic country lament, one that makes the listener want to speak with a drawl and start saying "y'all." (Hey--that rhymes!) His plaintive voice is perfectly suited to this and all his other songs of heartbreak and yearning.
I recently came across a cover of "Cold Cold Heart" that hits a pretty high mark on my Dylan-Hendrix-Watchtower meter. Norah Jones is an immensely talented young woman who released her first album in February of this year. Most of the album's songs are written by others, and only two or three of them are "established" songs. Jones demonstrates ample songwriting chops in the album's title song, the simple and beautifully seductive "Come Away With Me," but her cover of Williams' "Cold Cold Heart" is a jewel, one of the best covers I've heard in a long, long time--of any song.
I generally try to avoid comparing singers to others, but within a minute or two of hearing Jones' voice I had her pegged as a cross between Billie Holiday and Rickie Lee Jones. I've since read that Jones--Norah, that is--spent a fair amount of time listening to her mother's Billie Holiday records while growing up. And although I don't really know whether she was influenced by Rickie Lee Jones or not, the sassy, street-smart inflection in her voice strongly reminds me of Rickie Lee.
Jones takes ownership of "Cold Cold Heart" right away; a simple bass line establishes a jazzy rhythm with a strong backbeat, aided by an extremely subtle--is that an oxymoron?--rhythm guitar. The first few piano chords are also simple, with voicings that give the song a modal feel instead of a distinctly major or minor key.
The rhythmic variation is simple and subtle, but it breathes a whole new life into the song. Whereas the original version of this and many other country ballads offer straightforward rhythms with little or no backbeat or syncopation, the finger-snapping rhythm Jones establishes is cool and sensuous. It's from a broader palette. It's like your first taste of mint chocolate chip ice cream after a lifetime diet of vanilla.
Jones' phrasing is also refreshing; instead of Williams' mournful, even paced drone, she demonstrates a subtle but masterful technique with the song's lyrics. For example, consider the different ways Williams and Jones end each verse. Williams sings the "cold cold heart" phrase in a descending three-note scale that makes the most out of his mournful voice. Jones sings the first two words on the same note, and then follows them with a descending three-note triplet on the word "heart." The effect adds lightness to a lyric that can be easily overworked, a gleam of brightness to an overcast day.
Jones' skills as a vocalist and song stylist are matched by her skills as a pianist; her playing is inventive, but never flashy. One of her tricks with "Cold Cold Heart" is to play the piano as if it were another voice, harmonizing with her lead vocal. And the unassuming solo she offers up in place of the third verse shows an appreciation for harmony and simplicity that's refreshingly honest.
The production on this album by the masterful Arif Mardin is also a wonder to behold. Although there are a number of guest appearances, the sound of the ensemble behind Jones is consistent and beautifully understated. Kick back and close your eyes; it won't take long until you feel as if you've been transported to the ultimate intimate cocktail lounge, and that the young woman on the bandstand is one of the best goddam singers you've heard in years.
Could Norah Jones be a one-disc wonder? Sure--but my bet is that she'll be around for some time to come. However, I've heard that some industry types have been puzzled about how to pigeonhole her--because she's on a "jazz" label (Blue Note) while singing a mixture of country and folk with a jazzy feel. My take on it is that if someone like Jones can't find continued commercial success, it's a sign that the music industry has become so focused on deal-making and numbers that its ability to cultivate musical talent has completely evaporated.
Check out Norah Jones' music--you won't be disappointed.