Midweek Music Break: Tracy Chapman

[Video: “Give Me One Reason,” by Tracy Chapman, with choreography by Chris Martin and Larkin Poynton. That’s Martin and Poynton dancing, too — and only Martin and Poynton. I’d already watched this a few times before that fact hit me, and then I had to watch it a few times more.]

When Tracy Chapman’s single “Fast Car” broke in 1988, it seemed to come out of nowhere, and suddenly was everywhere. (I could swear I remember a Muzak version.) Even so, thanks to a personal life full of complications, I paid less attention to music — including Chapman — for the next few years. By the time I started listening to stuff again, I learned that her career had zoomed (on the strength of “Fast Car” and her biggest single, “Give Me One Reason”) and then subsided in the meantime. It finally seems to have settled into something of a sui generis long-term marathon, punctuated by public appearances and likewise out-of-nowhere cover versions of her work.

Her Greatest Hits compilation came out a few months ago. It includes remastered versions of both “Fast Car” and “Give Me One Reason,” naturally, and a live version of “Stand By Me”; the latter was recorded during Chapman’s appearance during the last week of David Letterman’s Late Show, in May 2015. (The video of that performance quickly went viral all on its own.)

The album reminds me that there’s nothing flashy about Chapman’s songs. They’re just straight-ahead good music, highly personal and/or deeply political as the case may be. Like Chapman herself, they give and they give, rewarding repeated listenings and reworkings, in various forms, by other performers.

The dance routine in the above video, choreographed and performed by Chris Martin and Larkin Poynton, has nothing to do with the lyrics of “Give Me One Reason.” (When Chapman sings “Squeeze me,” for instance, the dancers don’t hug themselves or each other.) It simply celebrates the song’s music, as the vehicle — a fast car — on the roof of which the footwork, the elbow jabs, the sheer virtuosity of the performances are zipping up a highway.

On the other hand, there’s that clip from the Late Show…

She’s not the only one to cover Ben E. King’s original, of course. (One version, by a group — I guess we can call it a group, or a band? — named Playing for Change, appeared here on RAMH in 2008.) I imagine it’s a favorite song to cover because of the instrumental line typically underlying the vocal: lightly sprightly and insistent, it’s something like a clever teacher assigning you (Right now, young man!) some urgent, already-overdue task — in this case, the “work” of getting those feet tapping. (Finger-snaps, thigh-slaps, and hand-claps can be substituted for toe-taps if you can’t proceed as instructed.)

But the vocal component — both the lyrics and the melody — must make the song attractive, too. It can serve as a love song, obviously, or a simple but heartfelt reassurance to (or plea for support from) a friend or family member. With a slight twist or slur of the words, it can even be rendered as a hymn. It doesn’t require a great vocal range; and the singer can indulge in histrionic flourishes and scat, if he or she prefers, or beatboxing, or even just a simple straight-ahead delivery, up- or downbeat as desired.

Not surprisingly, Chapman makes choices few other performers wold make. On the Late Show stage, in the middle of that entertaining but undeniably wistful week of late-night TV, it’s just her, her guitar, and that understated voice. Suddenly, nuances we’ve never heard in the phrasing are laid out, stark, surprising, but entirely appropriate for sending off a late-night talk-show host like Letterman: a “comedian,” nominally, and a public figure who’d undergone his share of public trials, disappointments, and resurgences, and one who’d shared some very tough times (heart surgery, 9/11) with the audience. It’s a tribute performance for Letterman from Chapman, of course, but also (maybe) a little bit of imagined vice-versa. When the night has come, and the land is dark…