Covers


Two years ago, this very paper published an article recapping Covers, a monthly event where students perform versions of their favorite songs in accordance to a given theme. Though it was extensive, I found the column (“Undercover Mel”) woefully inadequate. Why weren’t my friends and I, who had just performed for the first time, included in the highlight reel? How could anyone hate an undeniable surf punk banger?

The anxiety of recognition seems to underpin all performances. In particular, the musical covers come with an added task of doing justice to a song everyone knows and loves. However, it’s a mistake to reduce Covers to a series of peacocking musical prowess. There is a historic tradition of bands of drunken students belting out slurred lyrics, with no apparent regard for doing any justice. More significantly, we ought to praise the quiet covers and the solo acts that occur before pulsating bodies bounce forwards to raise their hands at the guitar gods and vocal masters.

In years past, the “Sadboy” archetype (not peacocks but caged birds) has been maligned (in The Wooster Voice no less). This is partly due to the fact that Covers used to last much longer. It was completely overstuffed with acts, and many a Saturday night was extended to two or even three hours. Anything that didn’t rile up the crowd into sweaty frenzy was more often than not drowned out in conversation. There must then be some form of motivation spurring these people to perform besides recognition. The ones that make repeat performances clearly have something else going for them.

Despite the initial lack of recognition by Mel Griffith, the author of that offending article, we remain friends. In fact, it was the starting point of our friendship, and eventually my admiration spurred me to become the editor of this section. It’s clear then that lack of recognition isn’t something anyone should rationally fear. We might take advice from Fidlar’s “No Waves,” the first surf punk banger I ever performed: “I feel, feel like getting drunk / I feel, feel like fucking up my life / Again with all my friends / I hope we’ll make it till the end”. That’s reason enough — the drunks, the depressed and the deft all belong on stage.

Last Saturday’s Covers was a magnet for all these groups, all performing bold in the face of the possibility of fucking up. Some standouts:

Donte & Kevante – Pink Matter

Top Shelf Cheddar – Dramamine

Gabes/Brendans – Green Light

Several Friends – Dust In The Gold Sack

Andy – Lives

Balut – Feels

Everyone I failed to include can shoot me an email, and then we’ll start a life-long friendship after you forgive me.