Music is one of those things in life that can stir up a lot of emotional debate. First is, of course, arguments over which musical style–Hip Hop, Country, Jazz, etc.–is best. Then there are disagreements about the best songs an artist has recorded. And then there are covers of existing songs by other artists, particularly when a musician of one genre covers a song from another. Music triggers emotion, which is tricky territory for us humans. Besides the fact that music speaks directly to our amygdala, the circumstances surrounding our hearing a piece of music gets tied inextricably to our feelings.
Exhibit A is “The Sounds of Silence.” I remember exactly where I was when I first heard the song. I was sitting at my desk in my bedroom listening to the AM station KYSN 1460 on a red GE clock radio.
The beauty of Simon and Garfunkel’s voices captivated me, and I sought out more of their music. The juxtaposition of beauty and isolation matched my teenaged angst perfectly. First, I bought the 45. Although I enjoyed “The Sound of Silence.” I was more moved by the lyrics of the B side, “I am a Rock,” I bought several albums, and Simon and Garfunkel become an important part of my musical rotations.
The point is that, while I admired “The Sounds of Silence,” it never really spoke to me lyrically until I heard the song as done by David Draiman of the band Disturbed during a crucial scene in the TV show, The Blacklist. Draiman’s rendition blew me away and made the lyrics come alive.
Naturally, I played it for my wife hoping to share my enthusiasm, but she didn’t like it as much as the original. No, that’s an understatement. She hated it. A heavy metal version of a folk song repelled her. That’s the way it is with covers. Many covers are judged by how faithful they are to the original. Every musician starts out covering other people’s songs and is judged accordingly. But many musicians then graduate to doing their own perception of a piece. Sometimes, that interpretation becomes even more popular than the original.
For my generation, “Summertime Blues,” “Hey Joe,” and “Tobacco Road” are examples of songs that were reinterpreted (some more than once) and found a larger audience. Simon and Garfunkel’s original version of “The Sounds of Silence” spent so much energy into the beauty of the harmony that the underlying anger of the lyrics was lost. Draiman’s transition, mid-song, to a growling helplessness and isolation, fit the meaning of the lyrics better for me.
Despite my wife’s dislike, I am in good company since Paul Simon is said to have given his blessing to Disturbed’s rendition. But that’s the power of all art. Each person provides their own perspective, their own meaning, their own humanity. It is the perfect intersection for the individual and a larger group. Art, so viewed, can lead us to the “better angels of our nature” instead of endless conflict. Hallelujah.
