When I was in high school, I met some kids on their way from a party I was headed toward. "They're playing weird music," they told me. "We left when they started playing a bizarro version of Mr. Tambourine Man, by some guy who couldn't sing." That guy was its author, Bob Dylan. They'd only ever heard the Byrds' psychadelic version.
You're shaking your head. "I'm a traditional musician. I play authentic versions of traditional tunes." Nonsense. A great tune from another genre is still a great tune, and it gives you a place to start. The challenge is moving it into your form so it works.
Bluegrass bands understand. The Burns Brothers' Run C&W is bluegrass covers of Motown Tunes. Play it for musician friends and let them try to guess what each tune is before the lyrics start. Hear how good those versions are?
The Black Lodge Singers re-purpose stuff until you'd never guess where they'd started. Try to guess Looney Tunes, from Kids' Pow-Wow, before the last bar. I dare you.
You don't need to jump in with both feet. You can ease into it. In the trio I'm playing in now, The Geezers, Ron Sommers, our guitar player, moved us into playing swing tunes at the breaks so he wouldn't have to be stuck playing root-position, D chords all night. Our fiddler, Joel Hayes, ran with this and put together a set that ends with Django Reinhart's minor swing, reshaped slightly to be a 32-bar tune with two A's and two B's. Last dance, after we'd finished the evening, a dancer ran up and complained because we hadn't played it all night.
Joel re-set Gershwin's Summertime as a waltz, and got Ron to sing it. It's an ideal evening-ender for hot, summer nights. Not to be outdone, Ron came back with Somewhere, Over the Rainbow in 3/4. Dancers recognize it and sigh. I like it better as a waltz than I like the original way.
Not ready to re-clip your musical hair into a mohawk or dye it purple? You can still add highlights and streaks.
We cap one set with Anita Anderson's Bus Stop Reel. Part way through we switch to the Hollies' Bus Stop. After we do it a couple of times, so the dancers know it's there, they switch back, and I play the Hollies' tune as a counter-melody.
When we do Minor Swing, we play the same kind of game with Bay Mir Bistu Sheyn.
After these, dancers run up and say, "What's the name of that tune? You know ... the other one."
For you German speakers, no that shouldn't be "Bei Mir Bist Du Shoen," because the line's not German, it's Yiddish: בײַ מיר ביסטו שײן . The original was entirely in Yiddish. Sammy Cahn heard it, bought the rights, translated the lyrics into English, had the Andrew sisters record it, and grossed three million bucks in 1937. That's re-purposing.
Where'd he hear it? In Harlem's Apollo theater, sung by a black duo. In Yiddish. אויף ייִדיש . Music respects no bounds.
I got to play in the in the Irish band, Colcannon, one summer as a substitute for Doug Berch, who'd gone on tour. The band's musically terrific, and every drunk loves Irish music, so we were never at a loss for gigs even though it did mean growing a tad weary of Whisky in the Jar. Still, there were limits on what our singer, Mick Bolger, was willing to do. No Unicorn. No Danny Boy.
Years later, I was booked to do a contra in Colorado Springs on St. Paddy's Day. Joel called a couple of days before to ask me to sing Danny Boy at the dance. I winced, but agreed, and asked him to bring along the lyrics.
We got there and, as we were setting up, he told Ron we'd do it as the final waltz. Ron and I looked at one another and both shook our heads. "It's not a waltz, Joel."
"Sure it is," said Joel, playing a couple of bars in 4/4, encouragingly. He hadn't counted it out.
"No," we insisted, "it's not."
"Could we play it as a waltz?" Joel asked.
At the break, we ran back into the kitchen and found a singable key, Ron locked us into a three-four rhythm, and we quickly showed Joel how to re-phrase it. Joel handed me the lyrics he'd printed out.
We played the second half, and came up to the last waltz. Joel launched into an lyrical Danny Boy in 3/4.
Coming up on the second time, I thought to myself, "In for a penny, in for a pound," At the top of the verse, to the tune of the new Danny Boy Waltz, I began to sing,
I expected to get laughs out of my fellow musicians; however, I wondered whether I might also get a guffaw from a dancer or two..... Oh there wereGreen alligators and long-necked geese, some humpty-Back camels and chimpanzees ... and cats andRats, and elephants as sure's your born. But notForget the lovely unicorn.
We finished and no dancers seemed even to have noticed. Ron was grinning. I turned around and Joel was clearly furious.
When he'd packed up and had calmed down enough to speak, he said only, "You should have done it the way we rehearsed it."
