On my first listen of Marika Hackman’s latest album, Covers, I didn’t realize that the title of the album was a self-description.
Maybe I was simply being too passive of a listener (or maybe it was the hangover) but it didn’t hit me that the album was made up of song covers until the last song, her version of ‘All Night’ by Beyoncé.
In terms of sadgirl fall music, Marika Hackman is top-tier, positioned right alongside the likes of Phoebe Bridgers, Lucy Dacus, and Hayley Heynderickx. Her voice combined with her production creates a melancholic melody that lingers in your head long after you’re done listening.
The songs she chose to recreate on Covers swept across all genres, ranging from Grime’s techno-hypnotic pop ballad ‘Realiti’ to Elliot Smith’s sullen, acoustic-driven ‘Between the Bars’. The scope of it is again evidenced by the contrast between the opening and closing song. She begins the 30-minute album with ‘You Never Wash Up After Yourself’, a relatively unfamiliar 1994 Radiohead track, and concludes it with ‘All Night’ by Beyoncé, a sensational hit that even those most unfamiliar with her work would recognize.
What Marika has shown through this collection is that the best song covers are the ones that we don’t realize are covers at all. Although she covered a wide array of artists, the sound of the album is entirely cohesive. Each song contains layers comprised of minimal drum beats, subdued melodies, and haunting vocals, allowing for seamless transitions between tracks despite the genre of the original source. The most important point one can make about this album is that each song sounds like a Marika Hackman song.
Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery. A well-executed cover is a piece that is able to both highlight the individuality of the artist covering it as well as pay homage to the original performer. When done well, it’s an artistic merger that highlights the brilliance of both artists.
The art of the song cover lies not only in the ability of the artist covering it, but the actual song they choose to recreate. It’s easy to reduce covers to wedding singers playing popular 90s love songs and poor acoustic renderings of popular rap songs.
A good song cover should have personal significance to the artist. Referencing the above image, It’s not that seemingly well-off white men covering ‘The Box’ by Roddy Richh with their mothers is inherently bad, but how have the lyrics “Fuck 12, Fuck SWAT” resonated in their lives to the point where they felt the need to reproduce it for themselves?
Covers like this typically conjure up thoughts along the lines of “Is this ok? It doesn’t feel ok.” This tickle of discontent may be the same spark that ignited debate over Ritt Momney’s cover of Corrine Bailey Rae’s ‘Put your Records On’, with critics going as far as calling the performance ‘anti-Black’.
Compared to creating an original piece, reproducing a song that already exists is seemingly much easier yet so much more can go wrong. Releasing a cover requires the artist to navigate the inevitable act of ‘comparison’, where the ultimate fate of their song lies in the hands of the audience. The arbiters of this rendition decide whether it can hold up to the sanctity of the original, or ridicule it to the point of obscurity. Sometimes the artist, like Ritt Momney, gets caught in the crossfire.
The covers that have withstood the test of time are ones where most people are unaware that they’re even covers at all. This list includes Amy Winehouse’s ‘Valerie’, Cyndi Lauper’s ‘Girls Just Wanna Have Fun’, and Whitney Houston’s ‘I Will Always Love You’. Next time you hear a familiar tune sung by an unfamiliar voice, take note of how the artist took the original and made it their own and hone your appreciation for the craft of copying off other people.
Listen to our favorite song covers below:
Hear Marika Hackman's latest album, Covers:
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