Pete Wilding continues his tirade against the worst and middlest cover versions ever.

Don't forget to write in and tell us what YOU think....




10. DJ Otzi – Hey Baby (Campbell, original performer Bruce Campbell); - Do Wah Diddy (Greenwich/Barry, original performer Manfred Mann).
Painfully obvious, and obviously painful, both DJ Otzi’s singles from 2001 were so popular as to induce nausea at the very idea of belonging to the same species as those who lapped it up. The signature tune to a thousand sweaty, drunken club nights, Hey Baby (Ooh Ah) was only marginally less cringeworthy than its successor, Do Wah Diddy, and currently haunts most Saturdays at football grounds around the country. We used to compose chants to the Beatles and The Monkees, for goodness’ sake!
Austrian Otzi, aka Gerry Friedle, deserves a modicum of credit – he saw a niche in a massive, naďve market and filled it, making millions by reproducing two awful songs by other people.
Friedle’s life has certainly been an interesting one: An early ambition to be a farmer was scuppered irrevocably by a fear of cows. After a stint as a chef, he became a tramp, apparently willingly, before discovering a love for music. According to www.artistdirect.com, he became a DJ in the Austrian countryside (playing to exactly who, I couldn’t say. The fearsome cows?), and survived testicular cancer before laying waste to any lingering cultural dignity left in Europe.

9. All Saints – Under the Bridge (Red Hot Chili Peppers, original performers Red Hot Chili Peppers).
Practically sacrilegious, this one. The Chili Peppers, one of the most successful and original bands of the past twenty years, just missed out on topping the charts with their 1992 anthem. Insultingly, the Spice Girls’ rivals reached number one twice with their version of the song in 1998.
Comprised of Sylvia Young alumni, All Saints clearly had some talent, and had five chart-toppers in their brief career. Criminally, the Chili Peppers have never had a no.1 record in the UK, their biggest hit By The Way reaching number two in July 2002. All Saints’ Under the Bridge was a double a-side with a rendition of Labelle’s Lady Marmalade, which has been ruined by almost everyone who has covered it.

8. Michael Bolton – (Sittin’ On) The Dock of the Bay (Redding/Cropper, original performer Otis Redding).
Michael Bolton apparently suffered from a perpetual, multi-layered identity crisis comparable only to that of Jason Bourne. He was born in Connecticut, yet sang songs about Georgia. He started as lead singer in 70s heavy metal band Blackjack, changed his name and ended up being a drippy, housewives, Cadbury’s Flake balladeer. He is also almost certainly the only person in the world to have met, let alone performed with, (Kiss guitarist) Bruce Kulick and the Three Tenors.
He also made a habit of massacring great songs by other people, none worse than this annihilation of the Otis Redding classic. Redding composed his only US number one with legendary soul guitarist Steve Cropper, whose songwriting ability is often overlooked. He co-wrote many of Redding’s hits plus an impressive list for other artists. Cropper originally wrote a quiet, spoken-word ending for the song, but Redding forgot the words as they recorded, generating the famous whistling solo.
All of which magic and wistful romance is gleefully dashed by the follicly-blessed Bolton. He laid equal waste to Reach Out(I’ll Be There), and Georgia on my Mind, and perhaps therein lies a further crisis of identity, manifesting in the obliteration of brilliant songs by gifted black men.

Besides, shouldn’t there be some sort of custodial punishment for someone with album titles like “Till The End of Forever”, “Every Day of My Life” and, erm, “Love, Time and Tenderness”? (No, really).

7. Atomic Kitten - The Tide Is High (Get the Feeling) (Holt/Evans/Barrett, original performer The Paragons)
Many people remember Blondie’s 1980 hit, but this was actually a reggae original 13 years earlier for John Holt and The Paragons. The Kittens may have taken it to number one for the third time, but it has never been better than when Holt sang it. It’s the track everyone skips on Blondie best-ofs, and it was always going to be worse when a superficial, manufactured girl group did it.
Possibly the most entertaining thing about this song is the discovery of an unofficial website’s introduction to Blondie, in the unlikely event that any 12-year-old Atomic Kitten fan hasn’t heard of them:
“Blondie is (sic) a long-standing American pop group which has lately successfully came (sic) back with new album ‘The Curse Of Blondie’” (www.atomic-kitten.com).
There is some mitigation here: Even the Stein/Harry reworking was poor, but a quarter of a century has made it immeasurably worse. Atomic Kitten ruined Ladies’ Night, Daydream Believer and Eternal Flame during their blissfully short career, and it is this consistency of destruction that has earned their place in this list.
Interestingly, their ‘original’ song, Whole Again has been covered twice. Interesting, because of the contrast: The Sick Anchors, a hybrid project of Scottish bands Mogwai and Arab Strap, have recorded a version so sweet I had to convince myself it was the same song; the other version, by Swedish girl-group Play (‘girl’ being the operative – none of the group are of drinking age), is notable only because it somehow manages to be worse than Atomic Shitten’s version.

6. Jessica Simpson – These Boots Were Made For Walking (Hazlewood, original artist Nancy Sinatra).
No, no, no, no, no. No. Another great, ahem, stomping cultural marker from the mid-sixties, absolutely murdered by a pop star whose parents probably weren’t yet into music when the original was released.
Simpson deserves a deal more respect than many of her contemporaries. Honesty, rather than sell-out, was the conclusion widely reached following the documentary of her newly-married life; she proudly professes her Christian faith where the industry may have stolen it, and bravely publicised her pre-marital abstinence to set an example to young girls (how many pop stars respond to the sensitivity of their duty as role models to many children?).
However, none of this makes her a good musician, and here she has violated a great song. Okay, so it’s for a film that will probably equally massacre the original series of Dukes of Hazzard, but that’s no excuse.
The song even seems to be unsure of exactly what it is. That stuttering beat lends and latino edge to the distinctly southern essence of the song, and the mix goes from uneasy to projectile upchuck when the bridge morphs into some sort of euro-dance pap. Simpson’s deplorably contrived ad-libs dip this rendition into a bog of foulness even the Dukes could never hope to encounter. “C’mon boots”? “Can I get a yee-hah”? Do me a favour – Shut. Up. Now.

5. Mike Flowers Pops – Wonderwall (N Gallagher, original performer Oasis).
Hmm, yes. Utterly reprehensible, this one. Mike Flowers’ group was part of a kitsch lounge-pop movement that somehow arose amid the euphoria of Britpop in the mid-90s. With his band, he ceremoniously pillaged a host of good tunes and, with depressing inevitability, the British public lapped it up.
I’ve included this record partly because, in terms of chart position, it did just as well as the original. MFP reached number two at Christmas 1996, a year after the Gallaghers had been kept from top spot by Robson & Jerome’s I Believe/Up On The Roof. Oasis were not the only great Britpop band kept from top spot by the desperately gooey thespian duo – Pulp’s Common People somehow lost out to Unchained Melody/The White Cliffs of Dover five months earlier.

4. Anything by anyone from Pop Idol, etc.
Okay, so this is somewhat cynically generic, but it needs to be: The alternative may have been seven or eight of this top ten worst covers list being occupied by the likes of Gates and Young. And I don’t want to give them any such credit.
Pop Idol, Pop Stars and the BBC’s hijacking attempt Fame Academy are the clearest manifestation of the dumbing-down of popular music. The only participant with any genuine talent has been Lemar, though Girls Aloud have emerged with far more dignity and respect than many homogenous predecessors.
These shows, despite or perhaps because of their huge success, have engineered pop sensations from people with negligible talent beyond shaking moves and holding a tune. Some of the songs are original compositions, by middle-aged rich men in country houses, though many of the resultant hits have merely been shabby reworkings of formerly great songs.
Will Young’s Light My Fire was, to be honest, an absolute shocker; his duet with Gareth Gates on The Long and Winding Road was frankly insulting. Gates tried to be multi-cultural with Spirit in the Sky, but drew tears from Elvis fans everywhere with Suspicious Minds.
It must be said that most of the Fame Academy graduates write their own material; indeed, there has been a much broader and more original array of talent from the BBC stable. But, while Fame Academy took hopefuls with precious little talent and turned them into soulless, million-selling, bland pop stars, FA took people with real, distinctive abilities and tried to turn them into exactly the same thing. Which is arguably worse. Thankfully, it doesn’t always work.
Young’s original work has surpassed initial expectations as he seeks to establish himself as a stayer. Unfortunately, for the dignity of some great old songs, it’s already too late. Thanks to Young, Gates and the unimaginably dreadful Rik Waller, the name of some classic tracks may be sullied forever, but the consequences for songwriting talents of the future do not even bear thinking about.

3. Groove Coverage – Poison (Furnier, original performer Alice Cooper).
The most recent cover in this feature, this is an offensively bad interpretation of Cooper’s superb, acidic, acerbic ‘love’ song. Thankfully, it barely flirted with chart success, though it has been a summer anthem at trance clubs across Europe.
The original, which reached number 2 back in 1989, is a powerful, bitter metal anthem driven by raw emotion. Quite how Groove Coverage ever managed to get permission for this abomination remains a mystery.
Groove Coverage are a DJ/vocal trio with a large fanbase across the continent. Imagine Everything But The Girl, only German. And there’s three of them. And they’re crap.
It’s really not all that hard to take a feisty guitar record and make a good dance adaptation. Jefferson Airplane’s Somebody to Love was made to be a dance record, and the embarrassingly-named Boogie Pimps duly obliged.
Unfortunately, Groove Coverage have failed miserably. This cover is an embarrassment to popular music. And it’s coming to a club night near you.

2. Britney Spears – I Love Rock ‘n’ Roll (Merrill/Hooker, original performer The Arrows).
Because clearly, Britney, you don’t.

1. Madonna – American Pie (McLean, original performer Don McLean).
So here it is, the worst cover song of all time. There are two main reasons for this: First of all, McLean’s original is one of the most brilliant, important, iconic songs of all time. Secondly, it was ruined by one of the most brilliant, important, iconic female performers of all time.
Madonna is a truly legendary artist, a great innovator and an inspiration to women the world over – which is partly why this is such a crushing disappointment. It’s so bad, ripping the heart and soul out of McLean’s masterpiece and spitting on the carcass. If almost anybody else had done this, it wouldn’t be half as upsetting; furthermore, if a nobody had done exactly the same, it would have flopped and nobody would have been subjected to such torture.
American Pie was written about Buddy Holly and his death in a plane crash, along with several other musicians, in 1959. It is an American modern pop culture tapestry, featuring James Dean, Bob Dylan, The Beatles, The Rolling Stones, Janis Joplin and the Monotones, along with Karl Marx, the Holy Trinity and Satan.
The song clocks in at more than eight and-a-half minutes, and was banned from many radio stations because of its length. Madonna’s version is half as long, guaranteeing (as if there were any doubt) that any lingering meaning would be lost.
After hearing McLean perform the song live, the singer Lori Lieberman was so moved that she wrote a song called Killing Me Softly, which became a hit for Roberta Flack and, of course, a great cover by the Fugees.
Of course, Madonna herself has been the victim of some serious creative violations (Kelly Osbourne’s Papa Don’t Preach, anyone?), but there is absolutely no excuse for anyone to commit a crime against music of this magnitude. It’s dull, cheesy, bland, devoid of feeling and about as appealing as eating your mother’s toenail clippings. Excuse me while I go find a rusty cheese slice and saw my ears off.





Neither here nor there – The Most Soul-Sappingly Pointless Cover Songs Ever.

Such is the depth of source material for this project, and so polarised the attempts at mimicry, it was not satisfactory merely to label cover records under the ‘very good’ and the ‘very bad’. Though the solution was unclear at first, it was soon obvious that some renditions occupied a different kind of underworld.
Under the definition of a good/bad cover, these creatures cover neither base. They do not give the song a new, creative spin while leaving the reputation of the original intact; nor, however, do they massacre the original, leaving everyone feeling slightly embarrassed.
No, the pointless cover song is arguably the most abominable fiend of all. It either seeks to sponge off the original artistry without adding any creative input or it simply occupies three minutes of space serving no purpose, educational or recreational, for the covering or original artist, whatsoever. Impotence or stagnancy – take your pick; each scenario should be greeted with equal disdain.
So profound is my scorn for this human waste, I’m even disinclined to give the songs any kind of order. To create a scale of pointlessness really seems just, well, pointless. So here are the few examples I think are worthy of mention, if only so we can throw tomatoes and boo them from the boards.

Stereophonics – Handbags and Gladrags.
Well, this is just cheating, isn’t it? As a song, it works just as well by Kelly Jones and co. as Rod Stewart’s original. Forgive me, but that’s just the problem. Of course it works – the two singers HAVE THE SAME VOICE! As cool and gnarled and emotive and powerful as that voice is, you can’t expect to carbon copy a song like that and get away with it. There is a conspiracy theory that Jones rents the voice while Stewart relaxes at home with another blonde with legs up to his neck. As the theory goes, as Stewart’s career has begun to wind down, he has let out the battered larynx to a popular Welsh band in order to maintain his strong contribution to modern popular music. Plus, of course, he probably needs the money: Stockings for legs as long as Penny’s must cost a small fortune.
Until I hear the two voices together, I refuse to discount this theory.

Girls Aloud – Jump
 The original was crap, and everything else you’ve done is much better – why cover this? It’s like U2 recording The Tweenies’ theme tune.

Steps – Well, everything.
Okay, I know they had original material, too. But there’s no excuse for this kind of twaddle, so I’m sticking all their material under one umbrella. They absolutely violated the Bee Gees and ABBA (not the easiest thing to do, granted), and did absolutely nothing for anybody who had reached puberty, with the sole exception of teenage boys punishing themselves over Lisa Scott-Lee on Saturday morning kids’ television.

Counting Crows – Big Yellow Taxi.
Great band, great song. Terrible combination. One of Joni Mitchell’s breezier efforts, this brilliant song was murdered by Counting Crows for the secret song on their Hard Candy album.
The album was typical of the band – intelligent, poetic, genuine, emotional American rock – but this nasty surprise ending marred it for many who had enjoyed the album proper. For many fans, it remains the worst song they’ve ever recorded, and even Joni would despair at this strange, unexpected and truly dreadful cover.

Busted – Teenage Kicks
 Oh, dear. The kings of pre-pubescence a couple of years ago, this ‘band’ was praised in some (imperiously ignorant) circles for introducing ‘real’, i.e. ‘guitar’ music to music’s most impressionable demographic. Which is nonsense on so many levels: First, there’s nothing wrong with normal pop, or what ever the ‘other’ was, as long as it’s good, honest and socially positive. Second, and more important, Busted knew nothing of what ‘real’ rock means – at least, nothing that suggested otherwise ever came out of their music.
Teenage Kicks, by the Undertones, was John Peel’s favourite record and without doubt the best punk song that will ever be written. The values ingrained in that song, and that band, and the great musical socialist that was Peely, are not merely lost by Busted covering it; they are ripped apart, spat on and trampled underfoot. It means nothing, a statement as blank and pointless as Tony Blair’s own public guitar playing. I could easily have put it in the Top 10 worst, but I didn’t want to give this culturally carcinogenic band the credit. Now you've read about the WORST covers, how about refreshing your palate with the BEST covers?


Pete Wilding





So what do you think of what you've just read? Please write and tell us!