This is Volume I of what I hope will be a several volume collection of cover-songs.  I’ve always had a soft spot in my heart for reinterpretations of really great (or not so great) songs.

I think what makes a cover successful isn’t how close to the original it sounds (I’m sure that will piss off anyone who’s made a career out of crooning Jimmy Buffet songs or Toad the Wet Sprocket to sun-burned drunken soccer moms and dads at a beach-side dive bar).  What I find challenging and often emotionally affective is re-working a song that has some inherent subtle beauty hidden somewhere in it.

While considering this project, I set some ground rules that I wouldn’t let myself break.  First, I had to really admire something about the song.  Whether it was its lyrics, arrangement, simplicity, emotion, or naivete; there had to be something there that I could attempt to pull out.  Second, I had to make it and keep it my own.  I didn’t allow myself to get too out of control with trying to include every part of an arrangement that I liked.  Simple rules that became really hard to follow.  Without further ado, here are the first 8 songs of what is already becoming a true labor of love.

Covers by Zach Forsberg-Lary of Isthmus and the Lisps

1.  Melt With You (Modern English)

I have always liked this song.  It’s a strange one to start things off because it has always seemed so saccharine.  When you really consider the implications of stopping the spinning of the earth on its axis and its revolution around the sun to hold someone you love while the physical forces of the universe pull the whole planet to its fiery painful death:  not quite so sweet.  I tried to touch on this less than happy side of this truly great song.

2.  Halo (Beyonce)

I love me some Beyonce.  This song started getting stuck in my head since it was constantly played at work and on the stereo of every car I pulled up alongside.  The lyrics are sweet and the arrangement is very evocative, but this song really just has something in the melody that gives it a sort of fungoid-infectious quality (that I appreciate much more than my choice of adjectives implies).  I wanted to be true to the original arrangement in certain ways while giving it a complete genre-makeover.

3.  Whole Wide World (Wreckless Eric)

This is probably the only great song Wreckless Eric ever wrote or recorded and he sandwiched it on his New-Wave/Punk album between handfuls of forgettable pre-punk tracks that only music geeks will ever love or remember.  But this song… it’s so innocent and sweet.  It reminds me of the qualities I’ve always admired in performers like Daniel Johnston, Robyn Hitchcock, and (dare I put his name in the same sentence?) Jonathan Richman.

4.  Hey Ya (Outkast)

Andre 3000 (or whatever he calls himself now) is possibly a genius.  This was one of the catchiest most overplayed songs ever, but no matter how many times I hear it, it’s still got some intangible quality that makes me shake my head.  This song is to pop music what Michael Jordan is to basketball.  I barely did it any sort of justice.

5.  Hide and Seek (Imogen Heap)

16 vocal tracks through a vocoder and… nothing else.  How is this song as beautiful and haunting as it is, and how do I capture that feeling in a cover without copying this arrangement?  I don’t know.  I went for a simple rock arrangement:  Drums, 2 guitars, and vocals.  Is the essence of the song still there?  Yes.  I think it’s the melody that I’m drawn to, but ultimately it doesn’t matter.  This is a beautiful song that I just wanted to sing.

6.  Glycerine (Bush)

I realized after recording and mixing this track that I never said the titular lyric.  Sometimes mistakes happen for a reason.  I think the song has this repetitive sort of loopy feel that the original was oozing.

7.  The Rose (Bette Midler)

This is just a sweet song.  I think this type of song-writing has been abandoned in popular music, and I wish it hadn’t been.  Yes, this song is a cliche, but it’s still beautiful.  I don’t know why the 80’s seemed to creep through my arrangement somehow.

8.  Chronographs (Chad Van Gaalen)

I find the effectiveness of this song hard to describe.  But it hits me in a place that I don’t often get hit.  The original has a very indie-rock arrangement, so I wanted to strip it to its bones.

(Copyright 2009)  Written by James Y. Giguere and Zach Forsberg-Lary.  Performed by Isthmus and the Lisps (James Y. Giguere, Zach Forsberg-Lary, and Erika Young).  Recorded by Isthmus and the Lisps at 42 Fairway Rd. in Newark DE.

This was a highly conceptual album.  Jim and I have had conversations about rock-operas, albums that gain deeper meaning if listened to in their entirety (rather than as individual songs), concept albums, what makes them good or interesting and what causes them to fall short of their potential.  This “Trip-Hopera” is an experiment in storytelling and in song-writing for both of us.  We came up with the concept and the narrative arc over lunch one day and the whole project snow-balled and consumed our free time until it was finished.  We may never try anything like this again, but it was a good experience (for me anyway).

Remnants:  A Trip-Hopera by Isthmus and the Lisps

I.      Final Broadcast

A satellite geosynchronously orbits Earth.  Its attention is fixed on a sliver of biological existence.  Information is received and transmitted.  Millions of signals are processed each second.  Its function is according to its design.  The satellite fulfills its purpose coldly, mechanically, perfectly.  Without warning, a near-unanimous agreement of signals overpowers the cacophony.  An overlap of electrical data on this scale is highly anomalous. The content of the broadcast is urgent; it echoes with importance.  Earth will soon cease to support life.  The satellite transmits the news to billions of computers, televisions, radios, and phones with mundane clarity.  In the brief silence after the transmission ceases, the satellite casts its steely gaze upon the inscrutable blue orb; the focus of its daily revolution.  Panicked telephone calls soon replace the silence.

II.      Calling Out (Searching for Contact)

A man is alone.  He reacts to the news as a spider casting a web.  He attempts cellular reconciliations with those he has abandoned and those who have abandoned him.  His voice becomes a digital signal, which is interpreted by an orbiting satellite, which then re-directs the transmission to another cellular device.  However, this particular voice is never re-converted into sound waves by the end users.  This voice will remain stored on a remote server as digital data for centuries.  It will remain as such even after every living body on the earth has decayed.  The satellite does not understand.  It has not been programmed to consider human interactions or the meanings behind them.  The man thinks he might understand.

III.      Disquiet/Desperation (Meaning in a Bottle)

The man has exhausted the combinations of digits that represent people that represent distractions from his thoughts.  He makes a drink.  Only one television channel continues to broadcast.  Men stand at pulpits, frothing and raving about heaven and hell.  He makes another drink.  He chooses to ignore the 7:00 PM curfew.  He walks alone through a city that he has never seen so empty.  He brings his drink.  He visits places that hold meaning.  Their significance will perish with the people that made them so.  He finds a piece of chalk.  He lies with his cheek to the pavement, scribbling.  His bottle is empty.  He decides that only drugs will sufficiently slow his mind.  Strong drugs.  He uses his cell phone one last time before chucking it down a storm drain.  He sends a message to an acquaintance: “meet me at the park now”.

IV.     Transmission Error (Metal Intention?)

A satellite geosynchronously orbits Earth.  It receives a series of characters.  The satellite pauses.  It transmits the message.  A woman receives it.  The sender is unfamiliar to the recipient.  She pauses.  Some force pulls her from her home.  She chooses to leave her parents and siblings.  They are huddled together, watching the glow of the television.  She jots a note and tacks it to the door. She slips out through the garage.  Does the satellite miscalculate?  Is it overwhelmed by the multitude of communications being sent?  Why this particular error?  Does this elaborate mesh of circuits and steel have the power or will to affect a world that it has merely observed for decades?

V.      Meeting (Sleeping)

A woman walks alone in the public park.  She is not certain whom or what she expects to find.  There is a man on a bench, head in hands.  He is startled by her approach.  They speak, though they have never seen each other before.  Secretly, they are both thankful for the mis-delivered message.  They walk together through the park.  They walk together through the city.  They pass deserted gas stations, markets, and homes as the sun rises.  The feelings of comfort and attraction they are sharing toward each other are magnified by looming apprehension.  Perhaps the trajectory of their relationship is accelerated by doomed circumstances.  They intend to remain together for the final day of Earth’s existence.  They move through the city.

VI.      Departure (They Stumble that Run Fast)

A man and a woman are no longer alone.  The man is reinvigorated.  He intensely feels emotions he had thought were dead.  He accepts the fate of this planet.  In the fading sunlight of the only day the two have spent together, the finality of the immediate future overwhelms the woman.  She begins to fear that her feelings are nothing more than the product of a frightened and confused soul.  She decides to return to her family.  They separate.

VII.      Reflection (It’s Coming)

The man lies on his roof.  The streets flood.  The Earth groans.  He looks toward the stars, visible as never before from within this darkened metropolis.  One seems brighter than the others.  It remains fixed overhead while the others shift with each passing hour.  All life on Earth gradually perishes.

VIII.      Remnants (Searching for Contact)

A satellite geosynchronously orbits the Earth.  It watches the slow extinction of the lives that created it and gave it purpose.  Stray electrical signals will continue to be received and redirected until gravity overcomes inertia and the machine crashes into the sea.  Static, bits of voice, music, sirens and blips.  Other electromagnetic waves continue to travel past the satellite, beyond the solar system toward distant reaches of explored space and beyond.  They are the remnants of a deceased species.

So these are some pre-”Remnants” recordings that we never really actively collected or released in any way.  They’re sort of the “cream of the early Isthmus crop” if you will (you will).

As an ever-changing, never-serious band it’s difficult for Isthmus and the Lisps to sit down and record a song from conception to completion (so forget about an album [or even an EP for that matter) so this is as close as we came (pre-"Remnants") to having several songs in the same vein that we could ever play for people.

Without further ado, here they be:

Favorite Tree -

This was our first real song ever (I guess).  After sharing this recording with some close friends, we started to get the compliment:  that was really good to fall asleep/do homework/fill in the blank with anything that isn’t “listen” to.  I think over time we’ve learned to embrace our complete disavowal of all things loud, startling, and movement-inducing.  Jenn Unter on the extra vocals.  Jim and Zach on the usual.

Drank a 40 –

This song is a true song, or so the story goes.  Victoria Forsberg-Lary and Erika Young on the non-Zach vocals.  Jess Kelly on tambourine.  Jim and Zach on the usual.

Mama Was –

Rumor has it my mom dislikes this song.  On and off the record:  it has nothing to do with my mom and I don’t think she’s a bitch.  Erika Young on the extra vocals.  Jess Kelly on the Tambourine.  Jim and Zach on the usual.

The Way You Cry –

This is a song about crying (according to Jim).  Chris Huang on the Cello.  Jim and Zach on the usual.

Weak Now –

Jim’s magnum opus?  You peel like wood.  Ross Fielding on the drums.  Jim on everything else.

Sunshine –

A little ditty that always made us smile.  Zach on mandolin.  Jim on the usual.

This is a collection of songs recorded between 2005 and 2007.  They are mostly cover songs and the common thread seems to be the predominance of fairly simple live recordings (usually undertaken and completed in a few hours) attempted for fun.

We never (necessarily) intended these to be heard, hence the shoddy craftsmanship and little/no effort made to fix any mistakes…  But that’s part of what makes them enjoyable (for me anyway).

Will this collection win any awards?  Not unless there’s an award for strangest “combo-cover” (Don’t Think Twice, She’s a Gold-Digger) or most lyrically forgetful (Grace Cathedral Hill).  Will they even please your eardrums?  Doubtful.  Are they straight-up Isthmus and the Lisps?  Mostly…

“Don’t Panic” (Coldplay) -

We used to play this quite frequently.  I think we both had hard-ons for the funky time-signature adjustments we made.  Do I still get a chubby when we go from 4/4 back into the 3/4 for each verse?  Yeah, I do.

“Don’t Think Twice, She’s A Gold-Digger” (Bob Dylan/Kanye West) –

We decided to perform this live… one time.  The hilarity we thought might ensue did not.  Maybe people aren’t as familiar as they should be with this Bobby D original.

“Golden Age” (Beck) –

Here’s a song off one of the many albums that fair-weather Beck fans seem to ignore.  Yeah it’s slow and depressing and you can’t dance to it… so?  It’s a heaping pile of shit-ton better than The Information (that cookbook excuse for a Beck album).

“Grace Cathedral Hill” (The Decemberists) –

So I equate this song with Jim for some reason (not the recording [which isn't all that awesome] but the song).  If we had remembered the lyrics properly this might have turned out better… then again maybe not.

“High and Dry” (Radiohead) –

I re-realized why I enjoyed playing this song:  we trade off lead vocals.  Usually (to make a sweeping generalization about pop music) one person sings the lead for the whole song and someone else comes in with harmonies, but here when Jim comes in he takes the lead and I switch off to harmonies.  I think it all started because he was more comfortable with his falsetto than I.  Probably still is.

“Favorite Tree” (Isthmus and the Lisps) –

This was an (obviously) acoustic version of the song (probably pre-full-recording).  I think it has its own merit.  It’s a little more upbeat anyway.

So this is arguably the worst of the worst Isthmus and the Lisps recordings that I’m willing to share with the 6 or 7 of you who actually frequent this website.  Believe it or not, there are songs so terrible that I opted to share these instead.

The quality of some of these tracks is unarguably poor.  They were recorded between 2005 and 2009 by several incarnations of Isthmus and the Lisps (but as usual, almost always Jim and Zach [hence the photo]).

Some of them have potential, others have some intangible quality (a gleaming gem amidst a pile of turd), most are utter shit.  Enjoy!

Psycho Killer (Talking Heads) -

So this had potential (at one time).  I guess just try to focus on the harmonies?

Harmonica Song (Isthmus and the Lisps) –

Guess what instrument is wielded poorly in this chestnut.

Chiswick – 1 (Isthmus and the Lisps) –

This song includes Ross Fielding on the drums and Jess Kelly on the keyboards.

Chiswick – 2 (Isthmus and the Lisps) –

This song too includes Ross Fielding on the drums and Jess Kelly on the keyboards.

Jim’s Unfinished Song (Isthmus and the Lisps) –

This song is the game set and match in any argument contra Zach playing drums.

2009_10_13 (Isthmus and the Lisps) –

Just some ideas…

2009_10_18 (Isthmus and the Lisps) –

Some more ideas…

A Dylan Song (Bob Dylan/Isthmus and the Lisps) –

This is one of those ideas that may never live up to its potential.

Twiddling (Isthmus and the Lisps) –

In case you hadn’t had enough of rough concepts for future songs…

More Twiddling (Isthmus and the Lisps) –

And one more for good measure.

Baby No More (Isthmus and the Lisps) –

The titular song!  Ross, Jim, and Zach (presumably drinking) decide one night to record a bunch of impromptu songs made up on the spot… this is one of those horrendous mistakes.

Barone Song (Isthmus and the Lisps) -

There’s a story behind the penning of this masterpiece.  It involves Jim, Matt Croasdale, Chris Barone, and Andrew Finley or Steve McManus.  Ask Jim about it.  I just liked the potential for harmonizing… and the lyrics (obviously).