Josh Ritter not only performs wonderful covers, but is my financial rep's doppleganger

This week, I’m returning for round two and featuring artists whose first name starts with the letter J.  Arbitrary? Slightly.  But when staring at a wealth of material, it’s tough to pick out songs to highlight.  The letter J just so happened to become my escape hatch while compiling this post.  Once I decided on J, I had to whittle the selections down even further.  I ended up with three songs that go from good to great like a staircase.  Check them out.

I have to admit, I had no idea who this first gal was when I heard this track.  And admittedly, there isn’t anything particularly appealing about it beyond the ironic dissonance of a folk-rock gal from Jersey covering the posturing of Nelly’s Hot in Herre.

What’s the funniest word to hear a Sweedish dude say in English?  Father. Unfortunately, you don’t get to hear Jens Lekman say it on this song, but I love his English accent when he sings.  A slightly humorous accent might be the only thing more endearing than a Paul Simon song.

Modest Mouse is band that I never really “absorbed.”  With the obligatory High Fidelity reference out of the way, I want to point out that this has nothing to do with the quality of the music they put out.  I was never really exposed to them beyond the “Float On” fad and a mix-tape here or there. I  always liked what I heard, but was too lazy to do much exploration.

Inescapable gap in my musical education aside, I heard Josh Ritter play Blame It on the Tetons and was blown away.  It’s so intricate, so softly beautiful.  His handling of the song is as much a testament to the original songwriting as it his own talents.

I’ve always had an attachment to female pop groups like the Ronettes and The Shangri-Las.  These sorts of acts dominated the early 60s.  I can’t help but smile when “Leader of the Pack” or “Be My Baby” comes through the speakers.  Getting a chance to drop a few quarters in a jukebox and hear something like “Give Him a Great Big Kiss” is even more pleasing.  This has nothing to do with anything, beyond trying to illustrate my attachment to the tunes and my cautious excitement when I first downloaded The Morning Benders take on “He’s a Rebel.”  Though the song is attributed to The Crystals, one of the most significant groups from the 60s, in actuality the lead vocals were recorded by Darlene Love while The Crystals were on tour.  The fabulous Phil Spector was worried another artist was going to get a jump on him, so he rushed Ms. Love into the studio and the rest, as they say is history.  With or without an educational footnote, however, the song is a true gem and has one of my favorite choruses of all time.

The cover version is by The Morning Benders, an indie rock outfit from Berkley, California.  A few summers ago they released an album of covers (visit Perfect Porridge to get the album) for free consumption.  From The Smiths to Roy Orbison, their covers project is top-notch through and through, but I think that this particular track is the standout.  It is stripped down, but retains the youthful energy and earnestness of its predecessor.

But just because he doesn’t do what everybody else does,
That’s no reason why I can’t give him all my love.

The next track is Femme Fatale, as performed by Big Star.  They are without question one of my favorite rock bands.  While critics go on and on about how influential they were, the fact remains that they are still sorely over looked by most rock fans.

Femme Fatale-Big Star

Written by Lou Reed at the behest of Andy Warhol, the song is purported to be about party girl socialite, Edie Sedgwick.  While the original featured Nico on vocals with male backing, Big Star places Alex Chilton on lead vocals with Leesa Aldridge as female backup (also of note is the presence of the inimitable Steve Cropper on guitar).  Where the original seems guarded and somewhat tight, this cover has a more loose, destructive feeling more in line with the subject.

Oh, yes. I’m heading out west to visit an Abba cover.  No, I don’t particularly care for their pop confections, but I’ll be damned if Mamma Mia isn’t an infectious tune.  And annoying as it might be, it generally plasters a smile on my face.  I hope can for you as well, courtesy of Phoenix, Arizona’s own Miniature Tigers.