Is Frank Ocean's Cover Of Iconic 'Moon River' A Hit Or Miss?

Somewhere beyond the mere cover version are some tunes that really shouldn’t be even attempted for various reasons. Like songs so definitively of one artist any recasting is just going to be redundant. From Sinatra’s My Way to Springsteen’s Thunder Road – just don’t, OK? Or for something more recent - for the love of god please don’t let any upcoming The Voice or X-Factor kiddie take a run at Lorde’s Green Light, for that will almost certainly not end well. Conversely, there’s those ones you’ve heard too much. Those Hollywood and/or Broadway standards that have lost all meaning because they’ve been battered to death by cabaret and/or karaoke singers for decades. And then Moon River (Blonded) came up on the list. Yes, that Moon River – you’ve likely heard your gran humming after Breakfast At Tiffany’s has appeared on late night telly for the 1349th time. But taking a brave, and then extraordinary run at it: Frank Ocean. You had to be curious, at the least. The autotune and treated vocals at the start nearly defeated me, but then it finds its form - and its true beauty. The song’s previous default sentimental melancholy infused with something more hopeful – if still in the distance – by a man who is both an outstanding soul singer, and an artist of often risky originality.

Keeping things timeless in another way, The Bamboos go back to their more orthodox forms: In lineup, the guest vocalists are dispensed with for this go-round – not there was much wrong with having Tim Rogers or Megsy Washington there to serve a song with their distinctiveness – and in style. Lit Up (Pacific Theatre/BMG) is more of the old school R&B/soul model you might expect from them. Regular resident vocalist Kylie Auldist belting it out, while the brass and piano and everything else motor and blast away behind. Adding further widescreen polish to the whole affair, they’ve sent it off to be mixed by American veteran Bob Clearmountain – his past credits including young hopefuls like that aforementioned Springsteen chappie, Bowie, The Rolling Stones and about 230 others, according to a certain much-referenced online encyclopaedia.

Then again, for some reality is just a fairly elastic concept, and their whole life just might be a performance piece. You know, like Father John Misty. Sometimes clever, sometimes just too fucking clever for his own good. His last album, Pure Comedy, had him observing the world and the human condition with some jaundice. But now, it seems, he may be looking inward again. Kind of. Or taking the piss from himself. Or us. Or both at once. Further confusing the perspectives, Mr Tillman (Sub Pop) has him narrating the role of a hotel desk clerk dealing with the ‘difficult’ guest bearing his real name. It’s softer, reflective even – but the cascading harmonies and sweetness of it are almost certainly ironic. Or maybe just trying a bit hard to be eccentric and add to his own mystery. “Perhaps you shouldn’t drink alone…” suggests himself as the first person taking himself in the third person. Maybe we should all take a shot and it might all become a little clearer. I know people who will love this. And some for whom it will shit them no end. I think I’m somewhere in the middle.

Also possibly operating on various planes of reality, the artist currently known as Diplo. Sure, you’ve worked with Beyonce, MIA, and even Bieber among others. You’ve fronted a crowd of up near half-a-million in that short window of opportunity when America noticed Cuba was actually there and let performers go there. But few have had their lives fictionalised into a cable TV show, with he who was Dawson of the eponymous creek playing a surreal version of a DJ. The world is a weird place. Look Back (Mad Decent) is simply about the music he makes – big modern electro pop suitable for jumping around behind the deck while a stadium jumps in time in front of you. Dram provides the human voice and presence in the video which, for the trivia buffs among you - was directed by the guy who makes that What Would Diplo Do? series. You know, the one that doesn’t actually have Diplo in it. Confused yet?

Ok, stop it. Enough of these Bizarro worlds and expansive self-serving dreamlands. I just crave some simplicity. Just give me a fine classicist pop song. You know: verse, chorus, jangly guitar hooks, sweet harmonies, perhaps a smattering of squelchy organ just for some variety as it heads into the ‘Repeat and ad-lib to fade’. Oh, and can you manage all that in somewhere around two-and-a-smidgen minutes? Is that too much to ask? You there, Danny McDonald in your band guise of the ever-finely named P76, have a shot at the brief. And behold, it is called Northern Gaze (Independent) and it is splendid: shiny and bright, has a beat, and you can dance to it. Perfect radio pop – for those radio stations that still play that thing known as pop music.

Yes, we have been known to sneer at ‘The Shire’. That odd suburban wasteland to the south of Sydney that so absurdly keeps electing the likes Scott Morrison to represent them. How does that even happen? But there are specks of light and enlightenment down there. The kids might be alright, given half a chance. Music that belies its creators’ ages occasionally lobs in my Inbox. Music that will be the ticket out of there, or at least make it a better place to be. Add Jazmaree to that list. It’s a voice of quality, obviously. But the originality and maturity is also in the construction and the lyrics of Aftertaste (Studio 57 Recordings) where some almost country twang and sincerity is delivered with an almost rap-like flow. It’s not just clever, it’s very of the now, and deserving of further note.

Alexis Taylor is building a catalogue under his own name beyond his work as part of the Hot Chip collective. Beautiful Thing (Domino) seems somewhat smooth at first glance, but increasingly feels like a tumble down the stairs, just keeping its feet. There’s rolls of that tack piano sound which helps keep it upright and at least dancefloor adjacent, while production input – the first time Taylor has actually collaborated with anyone on the racket he’s making – is from DFA Records’ Tim Goldsworthy, which might add to a drily sardonic tone that seems to come through as it goes.