Reporter's Notebook

You don’t have to be a classical musical snob to recognize this track—it might even be your ringtone:

The trickling tune was covered by The New Yorker’s Alex Ross in 2009: “Although Pachelbel’s Canon, ‘Eine kleine Nachtmusik,’ and the ‘Ode to Joy’ provide stiff competition, Beethoven’s ‘Für Elise’ is probably the most numbingly familiar of classical melodies. Myriad times a day it is murdered by novice piano students, only to rise up again.” Infamous though it may be, “Für Elise” has built quite a following: A fan website dedicated to the song allows readers to submit the story of their first encounter with the Beethoven classic, which turns 206 today! (Or at least, we think it does.)

In honor of the song’s purported big day, press play on the 60-minute cut above and read about Beethoven’s natural genius, courtesy of an 1858 Atlantic profile of the composer:

The boy had an inborn love of the beautiful, the tender, the majestic, the sublime, in nature, in art, and in literature,— together with a strong sense of the humorous and even comic. [...] Beethoven was no exception to the rule, that only a great man can be a great artist. True, in his later years his correspondence shows at times an ignorance of the rules of grammar and orthography; but it also proves, what may be determined from a thousand other indications, that he was a deep thinker, and that he had a mind of no small degree of cultivation, as it certainly was one of great intellectual power. Had he devoted his life to any other profession than music—to law, theology, science, or letters—he would have attained high eminence, and enrolled himself among the great.  

(Track of the Day archive here. Submit via hello@)

Today’s track is Thrones themed. Here’s reader Dan:

Your reader said “there is no evidence in the show that she has any favor with R’hllor [the Lord of Light],” which is something I’ve always suspected. Now that we’ve seen Melisandre transform into an old woman, it indicates a potential connection to the main religion in Westoros, the Faith of the Seven. The female half of the seven are maiden, mother, and crone, and you could argue that Melisandre has now played all three roles.

Regardless of whether or not she’s a god, she’s definitely magical, and I like the idea that she will perform the classic witch role of offering a gift (resurrecting Jon Snow) in exchange for some other terrible deed down the road. That paves the way for him to defeat the white walkers, Boltons, Lanisters, etc. but still not become king, leaving the throne open to Daenerys.

Also, one of my favorite metal bands, The Sword, has an awesome song about the maiden, mother, and crone.

And an awesome music video:

(Track of the Day archive here. Submit via hello@)

A reader who goes by DWD flags a lovely Spanish-language cover of a Cure classic:

I’ve been enjoying the Track of the Day feature and would like to do my part by nominating a song for inclusion. A standout track from Tributo a The Cure: Por Qué No Puedo Ser Tú, a great album of Cure covers issued in 1999, this transformative version of “Just Like Heaven” (“Como El Cielo”) is performed by the NYC band Si*Sé.

(Track of the Day archive here. Submit via hello@)

Reader Paul joins the popular cover series:

When I first saw your “most transformative covers” thread, Curtis Mayfield’s version of “We’ve Only Just Begun” automatically popped into my head. Not only did Curtis transform the song musically, but he changed the lyrical meaning without altering a word. Many of the compositions in his mighty catalog dealt with the civil rights issues of the day, and in this live setting, he takes a song that was written to envision a newly married couple and gave it a twist. Curtis explains it best in the spoken intro to the song (Rap #2, available on Spotify):

A lot of folks think this particular lyric is not appropriate for what might be considered ‘underground’, but I think ‘underground’ is whatever your mood or your feelings might be at the time so long as it’s the truth. I think it’s very appropriate that we might lend a few words of inspiration about that here.

At the end of the song,  he then segues into the most beautiful reading of one of his most famous songs, “People Get Ready” [on Spotify] to further emphasize the new lyrical spin on “We’ve Only Just Begun.”

Here’s that song in its original, live form:

(Track of the Day archive here. Submit via hello@.)

Prince was notoriously wary of the Internet. He sued YouTube and eBay over unauthorized use of his content and—as people lamented on the day of his death—he pulled his catalogs from all streaming services except the Jay Z-led Tidal. This aversion to digitization of his performances led to an unusual spat with Radiohead’s Thom Yorke in 2008.

That year, Prince played Coachella. He glided onstage, almost ephemeral in the evening light, and blew the audience away with a soaring rendition of “Creep,” imbuing the Radiohead song with the gravitas and sensuality only Prince could. The crunching guitars before the chorus are softened by synthesizers, and he builds to a roaring guitar solo and then into a delicate falsetto interlude before returning to the solo, reminding all in attendance why he is a musical icon. The lyrics played perfectly into Prince’s otherworldly persona, with the occasional pronoun flipped around for further personalization of the song’s intensely inward gaze. It was a transcendent experience to behold.

But then, in standard fashion, Prince issued takedown notices to all YouTube videos of the performance. “Really? He’s blocked it?,” a confused Thom Yorke said. “Well, tell him to unblock it. It’s our... song.”

Prince didn’t. And it wasn’t until 2015 that his version was made available online. Oddly, it was Prince himself who released the recording, via a tweet linking directly to the video. The video title includes a nod to this controversy, stating that the recording is “Uploaded via Permission from Radiohead & NPG Music Publishing.” Whatever his reasoning for the change in heart, music fans everywhere are better off for it.

(Track of the Day archive here. Access it through Spotify here. Submit via hello@)

1984. Syracuse, New York. The Carrier Dome.

Tens of thousands of people are holding up lighters—frighteningly close to enough hairspray and oil-based makeup to level the whole city. The lights have dropped and in the edgy, anticipatory concert buzz, there is an occasional cheer or whistle. Glittering purple light and smoke slowly fill the stadium. The crowd is going bananas. A guitar chord is struck and the screams become even more urgent. It seems like it lasts minutes—glittering purple, the smell of dry ice, a chord, screams. Over and over. But then:

“I never meant to cause you any sorrow…”

At last. It is magical. That little Minnesotan maharajah holds everyone captive to his truth: The color of the rain is purple, people.

And we are better for it.

I was 11, and Prince was my first concert. (My friend’s much-older sister took us with her. It was a real Cinderella-at-the-ball moment for me—if shoulder pads were ball gowns and the prince were Prince, and more of an androgynous oversexed nymph with eyeliner.) I had internalized the album, of course—the straightforward insanity of “Let’s Go Crazy,” the quixotic “When Doves Cry,” the dry-humping cri de coeur of “Darling Nikki”—I knew them all.

Confusing my Prince enthusiasm for an adorable obsession most girls my age might have (like for Menudo), my father rented the movie Purple Rain. Needless to say, Purple Rain, featuring Apollonia and the truly fantastic Morris Day and the Time, was not a cute boy-band musical. My dad fast-forwarded through the sex scenes only to land on a drug scene. He was horrified. I felt worldly.

I tried to keep up with Prince. I bought Around the World in a Day and, later, even Diamonds and Pearls. But nothing will ever be as magical as the Purple Rain album, the Purple Rain concert, or the “Purple Rain” song.

Prince was unique. He challenged expectations about rock music, about gender, about race, about sex, about fashion, about art. His challenge to labels brought the world “the artist formerly known as”—and embedded a meme into the culture without even using the Internet. He was nothing if not aggressive about transcending category. He played the Superbowl. He won an Oscar. He bitch-slapped the music industry. He inspired Dave Chappelle. He rocked a goddamn look.

Tonight, I’m going to play that one-of-a-kind album and imagine Prince—laughing in the purple rain.

(Track of the Day archive here. Access it through Spotify here. Submit via hello@)

A reader writes:

Hey Chris, I saw you put out an open call for “the most transformative cover songs.” The Nashville-based group SHEL just released a music video for their haunting cover of Metallica’s “Enter Sandman.” I think it’s a great example of a unique cover.

SHEL is the acronym of four classically trained sisters: Sarah on violin, Hannah on keyboards, Eva on mandolin, and Liza on percussion and beatboxing. They’ve been compared to Haim and have a new record coming out soon.

I love how Nerdist’s Matt Grosinger puts it: “Let’s be honest, what is more metal than a creepy lullaby version of Metallica’s ‘Enter Sandman’?”

(Track of the Day archive here. Access it through Spotify here. Submit via hello@)

A reader, Michael Poole, goes meta with the new series on songs in cinema—by picking a cover song:

Might I suggest the use of the song “Mad World,” originally composed and performed by Tears for Fears [embedded above] but covered by Gary Jules in the film Donnie Darko. The pathos it evokes, while the camera shows faces stricken with grief and confusion, is almost unbearable. I thought the movie was good, but this scene is exceptional:

(The song ends here at the 3:00 mark, and beyond that the dialogue is in French. It’s the only video I could find that shows the scene with the music as it is in the film.)

Thanks for the Track of the Day feature, plus everything the Atlantic does.

(Track of the Day archive here. Access it through Spotify here. Submit via hello@)

The Pulitzer for Music doesn’t usually get the same attention that the prizes for journalism and books—or this year, for drama—do. For one thing, the award tends toward contemporary classical music, with a smaller audience. Not always, though—sometimes they favor the improvisatory avant-garde, like this year’s winner, just announced: Henry Threadgill’s In for a Penny, in for a Pound.

Who’s that, you ask? He’s a jazz-ish alto saxophonist, flautist, and composer, who’s long been associated with Chicago-based Association for the Advancement of Creative Musicians, a hotbed of creative music. And what does In for Penny sound like? That’s a tougher question. The record features his band, Zooid, which consists of guitar, tuba, trombone, cello, and drums. The music, which is partly composed and partly improvisational isn’t easygoing—you won’t find recognizable melodies or refrains or chord progressions or even solos. But it’s not as user-unfriendly as much avant-garde jazz can be. Give it some patience and the music will bewitch. As The New York Times’ Nate Chinen wrote when the record came out:

This music is tricky, by design, about the distinctions between foreground and background. At any moment, the members of Zooid are likely to be knitted together in a group improvisation; the forward pull of the music has a lot to do with the friction of their split-second reactions. And every coordinated gesture, like the spiky phrase for flute and trombone in the final seconds of “Ceroepic (for drums and percussion),” comes with a small jolt, a reminder of how many intricate details have been whirring past.

This is the opener of the two-disc set; the rest is well worth your time. But don’t take my word for it: Take the word of the Pulitzer jury, which called it “the very expression of modern American life.”

(Track of the Day archive here. Access it through Spotify here. Submit via hello@)

The latest reader contributor to our cover series merges three giants of their genres:

I’m not sure this pick is as transformative as others, but I believe it is significant for its intersection of three true giants of music. “Redemption Song” by Bob Marley has been covered by many artists (Eddie Vedder with Beyoncé recently), but having Johnny Cash and Joe Strummer cover it [above] really cuts to the essence of the song.

Each of the three artists is a great singer songwriter and a pillar of their genre of music (Cash for country, Strummer for punk, and Marley for reggae) as well as being icons of their native countries (U.S., England, and Jamaica). They each rebelled through their music and, among many other things, sought to provide meaning and understanding to the individual’s struggle for freedom. Additionally, Cash and Strummer’s voices clearly and rawly convey the respect they have as artists for each other, as well as that they have for Marley, their fellow rebel.

(Track of the Day archive here. Access it through Spotify here. Submit via hello@)

Yesterday I tested the waters for a new Track of the Day series on the most artful use of songs in cinema. This reader contribution from Michael gets us off to a great start:

I’ve really enjoyed your series on transformative covers (the only kind of covers that matter, to my mind). Adding the best use of songs in movie scenes makes a good thing better.

The scene that immediately springs to mind is the one in Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Barrels when Eddy loses all of his and his mate’s money to gangsters in a rigged card game. As the enormity of this loss sinks into a numbed Eddy, the droning guitar strains that kick off Iggy and the Stooges’ “I Wanna be Your Dog” match up perfectly with the disoriented camera perspective that stumbles out the door with him.

What Eddy feels might not be exactly what Iggy feels, but they share a bleak desperation that makes you really feel the gut-punch of his situation.

Have fun with this new sub-series, cheers!

(Track of the Day archive here. Access it through Spotify here. Submit via hello@)

Readers flag the best things:

I don’t know if this has already been submitted for your series, but here’s a cover of David Bowie’s “Modern Love” re-imagined as a slow country lament (with slide guitar) by Brooklyn singer-songwriter act The Last Town Chorus.

Another brilliant use of that Bowie song is in the film Frances Ha, when the title character runs and pirouettes through the streets of Chinatown.

Which reminds me: To diversify the Track of the Day feature, beyond this great cover series, I’ve been meaning to start a series compiling the best use of songs in movie scenes—when a song perfectly captures the scene or brings an exceptionally creative element to it, making it greater than the sum of its part.

Off the top of my head I’m thinking of Harry Nilsson’s “Everybody’s Talkin’” in the ambulatory intro to Midnight Cowboy, Lou Reed’s “Perfect Day” in the overdose sequence in Trainspotting, Nancy Sinatra’s “These Boots Are Made For Walkin’” in the Parris Island/Vietnam segue in Full Metal Jacket, and the Pixie’s “Where Is My Mind?” in the closing scene of Fight Club (though that YouTube version censors out the flickering phallus, sorry to report).

Do you have any recommendations, especially ones you want to elaborate on a little? Please send our way: [email protected].

(Track of the Day archive here. Access it through Spotify here.)