I’m obsessed with cover songs. There’s something electrifying about hearing a familiar melody reimagined, like seeing an old friend in a new light.
Seeing Cat Burns’ take on Teenage Dirtbag, originally by Wheatus, plunged me into a rabbit hole of late-night soundtrip sessions. If I were back home, I’d be pulling out my dusty old mixtapes by now. (Don’t you miss making mixtapes? There’s something so tactile about it: rolling back the tape with a pen, hitting rewind and record, and, yes, writing down the lyrics by hand!)
Her song exploded out of nowhere—a glorious jolt of life to a track we thought we knew. She didn’t just recite the lyrics; she breathed fresh air into them, making the old feel brand new again. This is what artistry is all about—infusing your fiery spirit into the already familiar.
Now, as an “elder millennial” hearing a song cover tied so closely to my youth was a different experience for me. It had often been the reverse. As a 90s kid, I was often more familiar with cover songs than their originals. Discovering the original tracks feels like a reverse treasure hunt, akin to the film Memento —a journey that unfolds backward in time. Each original I uncover becomes a puzzle piece, revealing a story I hadn’t fully grasped, as if I’m piecing together memories in reverse. The cover serves as a familiar entry point, inviting me to delve deeper into the song’s roots, where each revelation enriches my appreciation for both versions.
Why do we lose sleep over the idea of being “unoriginal” when the beauty is often found in reinvention?
Indulging in a dopamine-laden night of cover song after cover song, I started thinking about the weight of originality. Why do we lose sleep over the idea of being “unoriginal” when the beauty is often found in reinvention?
It’s a mental cage—one I’ve been trapped in myself. Creativity needs space to run free, not be shackled by the fear of what’s already been done. Yes, countless songs and stories have passed through the annals of time, but that doesn’t mean your take on it isn’t worth a look or a listen. The moment you pour your voice into something, it transforms from mere replication into a living, breathing entity. Reinvention is not just about change; it’s about tapping into your creativity and self-expression to transform familiar ideas into something uniquely yours.
Look at Jacob Collier. He doesn’t just cover songs; he performs sonic alchemy. When he dives into Here Comes the Sun, originally by The Beatles, he’s not just playing the notes; he’s reconstructing the entire landscape of the original. It’s a resurrection. Nina Simone’s version of that song? It’s my personal favorite. Her version continues to speak to me because, when I hear it—especially on the darkest of days—I can feel the honesty, the hope, and the promise of brighter tomorrows. She molded the song into something deep, something soulful that resonates long after the last note fades away.
And let’s not forget Elvis. He didn’t just sing Blue Moon, originally recorded and performed by Al Bowlly and Ray Noble in 1934; he brought it to mass consciousness, wrapping it in his inimitable style.
This is the crux of the matter: the line between originality and plagiarism is razor-thin and depends on your approach. When you take existing material and rework it to express your unique voice, you’re not stealing; you’re adding to the dialogue. Just make sure to give credit where it’s due.
Many songs we consider classics or tie to a specific singer or group are actually covers. Aretha Franklin’s powerhouse rendition of Respect wasn’t her original; it was penned and recorded by Otis Redding before she turned it into an anthem for the ages. Killing Me Softly With His Song, famously performed by The Fugees, was first laid down by Lori Lieberman. And UB40’s Red Red Wine, often associated with their reggae style, was initially written and performed by Neil Diamond. These examples show how the lineage of music is rich with reinterpretations that have become iconic in their own way.
This philosophy isn’t confined to music. Writers can take a classic story and give it a modern twist. Ever seen a contemporary adaptation of a Shakespeare play? Or a piece of urban intervention that looks vaguely familiar but strikingly different? Visual artists like Banksy take what we know and remix it with a fresh dose of social commentary, challenging our perceptions and making us think.
In the wild world of content creation, influencers and YouTubers ride the wave of trends, slapping their unique spin on everything from beauty tutorials to cooking shows. They don’t just replicate; they contextualize. This personalization is the secret sauce that makes them stand out in a sea of sameness.
So how do you infuse your voice into something and make it truly yours? Here are a few strategies:
Personal Experience: Your life is your canvas. Draw from it. What does this piece mean to you? How has it shaped your journey? Share your story. Let the world in on your experiences; they add depth and resonance.
Unique Interpretation: Don’t just hit play on the original. Twist the tempo, change the structure, throw in some flair. Johnny Cash’s cover of Hurt, originally by Nine Inch Nails, wasn’t just a rehash; it was a gut-wrenching plunge into despair, redefined for a new generation. Cash took that industrial angst and turned it into something haunting and raw. It was no longer just a song about addiction and isolation, but also about the passage of time.
Contextualization: Situate your work in today’s chaos. Artists who tackle current social issues through covers can ignite movements. Faye Wong’s cover of Dreams by The Cranberries presents the song in Mandarin, becoming a symbol of individuality and emotional freedom for Chinese-speaking audiences. In a society often steeped in traditional values, her rendition resonates as a quiet rebellion, inspiring personal empowerment.
Collaboration: There’s power in numbers. Collaborating with other creatives can breathe new life into your work. Think of the countless duets and remixes that blend voices and styles, creating something that defies categorization.
Authenticity: At the core of any great reinterpretation is rawness and honesty. Audiences can smell inauthenticity from a mile away. Let your true self shine through, and don’t be afraid to strip down your ego.
Here’s a little exercise to kickstart your creativity: Pick a classic—whether it’s a song, a piece of writing, or visual art—and use it as a springboard. Challenge yourself to create “just a cover” of it. Thinking of it as “just a cover” may free you from the pressure to innovate, allowing your creativity to flow. Before you know it, what started as a simple homage transforms into something uniquely yours, a testament to your creativity and voice.
In a world drowning in ideas, your perspective is the lifeboat.
No one has lived your exact experience or viewed the world through your lens. As long as you bring your truth to whatever you’re creating, it will be distinct.
Forget the fear of being unoriginal. Focus on what you can add to the conversation. In a world drowning in ideas, your perspective is the lifeboat. Trust me, someone out there needs that lifeboat. You just need to give them that chance to find it.
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