The Top 100 Cover Songs

50. Siouxsie and the Banshees, “Dear Prudence” (1983)

Originally released by The Beatles, 1968

The common refrain with Beatles songs is that no cover could ever compete with the original, and by and large that’s probably true. But nobody bothered telling Siouxsie Sioux, who not only does this White Album highlight justice but actually surpasses it. A moment of pop glory from gothic rock’s high priestess, “Dear Prudence” injects a surprising amount of joy and dream-pop beauty into the spacious psych-rock gem, filling in its gaps with a brilliant maximalism and an embrace of all the unheard possibilities buried within a great melody. – Jeff Terich

49. This Mortal Coil, “Song to the Siren” (1983)

Originally released by Tim Buckley, 1970

From the debut of this goth collective headed up by 4AD label boss Ivo Watts Russell, Cocteau Twins’ Elizabeth Fraser delivers one of her best vocal performances ever. Released in close proximity to the Twins’ Treasure album, Fraser stepped up to the mic and proved she was not only capable of adding grace to the dark ambiance of her own band, but of singing her heart out as well as or better than any of her peers. She took what was Tim Buckley’s emotive yet stripped-down folk tune and gave it a more gripping sense of longing. – Wil Lewellyn

48. The Kingsmen, “Louie Louie” (1963)

Originally released by Richard Berry, 1957

A one-take classic, and it sounds like it, too: a drummer cursing on the track, followed shortly by a singer jumping in too soon, all mixed in with barely comprehensible lyrics besides the title. The FBI investigated them for obscenity as a result of it, finding nothing but those damn kids daring to have fun. – Butch Rosser

47. The Slits, “I Heard It Through the Grapevine” (1979)

Originally released by Gladys Knight & the Pips, 1967

As one of the most peculiar bands of the British post-punk era, The Slits merged scratchy art-punk melodies with the rhythms of dub and an almost No Wave radicalism that infused their music with as much groove as unpredictability. In committing to tape their own version of Motown classic “I Heard It Through the Grapevine,” Ari Up, Viv Albertine and Tessa Pollitt edged closer to pop-song convention, but only slightly. In place of Smokey Robinson and Marvin Gaye’s infectious and soulful sensibilities is a sinister post-punk darkness run through with a super-creepy backup vocal and haunting synth. And unlike Gaye, Up sounds not so much anguished as pushed to the edge, offering a manic yelp instead of a heartbroken lament. It’s a raw expression of emotion with an open ending that leads nowhere good. – Jeff Terich

46. The Byrds, “Mr. Tambourine Man” (1965)

Originally released by Bob Dylan, 1965

This classic cover is barely a cover at all. In 1964, The Byrds’ manager, Jim Dickson, acquired a demo of a new song by the great-songwriter-with-a-bad-voice. At the same time that Dylan put the finishing touches on his five-and-a-half minute ode to sleepiness, the young folk group was reshaping the song into what would become the first Dylan-penned number one hit. – Chad Gorn

45. Charles Bradley, “Changes” (2013)

Originally released by Black Sabbath, 1972

Especially in their first four albums, Black Sabbath was rooted in melancholy more than mysticism, never more so than in their atypical ballad “Changes” from Vol. 4. Bradley’s cover, made four years before the traditional R&B singer’s death (but included three years later on his album of the same name), extracts that anguish and turns it into a Stax-style weeper. It’s a revision of acute pain every bit the equal of Johnny Cash’s “Hurt.” – Paul Pearson

44. Sonic Youth, “Superstar” (1994)

Originally released by Delaney & Bonnie, 1969

It’s easy for a fleeting pop culture moment to ruin a good song. You can’t listen to “New Slang” ever again without imagining Natalie Portman telling Zach Braff that it will change his life. Likewise, Sonic Youth’s hushed cover of The Carpenters’ rendition of “Superstar” will always be linked with Juno, and in particular Jason Bateman’s sad-sack indie dad character. If you can separate that cringey moment from Sonic Youth’s cover, you’ll find a song that reveals all the aching pain hidden at the heart of the original’s formula. – Wesley Whitacre

43. Iron & Wine, “Such Great Heights” (2003)

Originally released by The Postal Service, 2003

This one has an odd story. When Sam Beam recorded this cover of The Postal Service’s quaint indie pop song, The Postal Service themselves had not yet released their original version. So the cover was released as a B-side to the single of the original. It was then given much wider exposure by being included on the Garden State film soundtrack and in a memorable commercial for M&Ms candies. Much like Beam’s other work, the song itself is urgent and intimate. – Wil Lewellyn

42. Tom Waits, “Somewhere” (1978)

Originally released in West Side Story, 1957

With a song like “Somewhere” from West Side Story, there’s not much call for interpretation. Leonard Bernstein’s melody is perfect and challenging. Those who attempt to sing it do so knowing that they need to be precise in order to do it justice. So who better to record it than… Tom Waits? While his gravelly, smoke-damaged voice is not the first one you would think of for this melody, he carries the tune with conviction and only a touch of loungeyness, successfully equating his own style with that of the masters. – Chad Gorn

41. Pavement, “Killing Moon” (1999)

Originally released by Echo and the Bunnymen, 1984

Here’s something that shouldn’t work: the gothic drama of Echo and the Bunnymen filtered through the self-deprecating slacker-rock of Pavement. And yet, their cover of this song, which has appeared as a Brighten the Corners-era B-side, keeps startlingly true to the original. Even the bits of absurdity that seem particularly Stephen Malkmus-esque—shouting the names of vegetables midway through the song, for instance—turn out to be uncharacteristically deferential to the source material. It’s an inessential side note to Pavement’s discography, but it does offer the somewhat rare experience of hearing the band in a reverent mood. – Sam Prickett