Pickled Priest One-Song Mixtape: "House of the Rising Sun" - The Definitive Covers
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There's a long, rich history behind "The House of the Rising Sun" and nobody completely agrees on its origin. Did it derive from an old British folk ditty? Was it an Appalachian folk song written in the early 1900s or earlier? Not completely sure, but two things (or more) can be true. As with many folk songs, even the lyrics vary from version to version—sometimes told from a male perspective, sometimes from a female perspective (and it doesn't always track with the gender of the singer either). Nobody can agree on which one is the original. The answer is still the same, of course—both versions tell a similarly grim tale, but from different vantage points. What we know about the American version is that the song was set in New Orleans. The exact location, however, is also up for debate. Many have speculated about its actual location (one being the photo above) and some claim it wasn't a real place at all, instead an amalgam of many similar establishments. Again, either could be true. We also know The Rising Sun was a den of iniquity. Whoring, drinking, gambling—not necessarily in that order—were on the menu inside its walls. While any of these vices can fuck up your life, a combination of some or all of them can ruin you for good.
We all can agree that the song is mostly known to the broader population of the world thanks to a British rock band that made it a #1 hit in the mid-1960s. But does the success of that version mean it is also the definitive take on the song? That's our job today—to take the 100s of versions extant and winnow them down to our favorite 26 for a feature we will hereafter call a "One Song Mixtape." Not many songs will qualify. Let's face it, there aren't many songs with one good cover, let alone 26. The unify theme of the versions included is that the song, at least at one point, had a hold of the performer. The Rising Sun does that to you. Like many a poor boy or poor girl before them, this haunting tale has a way of permeating your soul like a voodoo curse.
Note: We had but a few rules for this exercise.
Artists couldn't change the song's New Orleans location which is central to the entire vibe of the song. Hence, no Five Finger Death Punch (theirs is changed to "Sin City") or The White Buffalo (set in Sons of Anarchy's fictional "Charming Town") or Abby Anderson ("Western York"). We like those versions, but "facts" matter.
Artists had to keep the original concept relatively intact. Hence, I ruled out French singer Johnny Hallyday's excellent "Le Penetencier" because the locale was changed to a French prison in lieu of a house of ill repute.
Songs must've received a formal release of some kind (single, live recording, album, commercially availability), not just a YouTube recording or social media post.
As I continue to discover new versions I may update this list periodically. Feel free to email me your suggestions.
As a reminder, below are the song's lyrics from the most popular known version. This might assist you as we navigate through the 26 versions below. Along the way, we'll highlight each song's gender perspective for informational purposes. Also, we'll comment when pertinent where lyrics have been altered, created, or deleted. What you'll find is that the core feeling of the song remains (in most cases) no matter what is done to the song. The mark of a true masterpiece.
There is a house in New Orleans
They call the Rising Sun
And it's been the ruin of many a poor boy
Dear God, I know I'm one
My mother was a tailor
She sewed my new blue jeans
And my father was a gamblin' man
Down in New Orleans
And the only thing a gambler needs
Is a suitcase and a trunk
And the only time he's satisfied
Is when he's on a drunk
Oh, mother, tell your children
Not to do what I have done
Spend your lives in sin and misery
In the house of the Rising Sun
I got one foot on the platform
And another on the train
And I'm going back to New Orleans
To wear that ball and chain
There is a house in New Orleans
They call the Rising Sun
And it's been the ruin of many a poor boy
And God, I know I'm one
PICKLED PRIEST'S ULTIMATE "HOUSE OF THE RISING SUN" MIXTAPE
(Ranked in ascending order for added suspense)
SIDE A
26 Alt-J
Gender Perspective: "My father" replaces the usual "poor boy" or "poor girl" in the lyrics.
As this project wore on, I kept returning to Alt-J's delicate yet haunting reinvention of the oft-interpreted warhorse we are examining today. There is something innately creepy about Joe Newman's vocals on a normal day, but on this track he outdoes himself. Subdued and sinister, but not overwrought, he uses the original opening verses as a launching point for an alternate ending that actually lets some light in. Here, there's fleeting hope for his father's redemption and salvation. The approach is non-traditional in the best way even if you know things are still not likely to end well.The weirdest moment is Joe's bizarre, dare I say evil clown-esque, "Happy, happy, happy, happy fun day, day" refrain, which gave me a little chill when I first heard it. What exactly possessed the band to go in this direction is anyone's guess, but it caps off an undeniably bizarre new take on a song that's been redone too many times to count.
25 Adolescents
Gender Perspective: Poor girl.
If I had my way, every song would have a corresponding punk version and "House of the Rising Sun" is no different. I was a little worried when the Adolescents' version took the usual slow and brooding approach for the first 60-seconds, but was soon relieved when singer Tony Cadena ripped off a "1,2,3,4!" count at the 1:08 mark, accelerating the song to the loud and snotty levels desired. Extra credit for some supremely wicked harmonica work throughout as well!
24 Santa Esmeralda
Gender Perspective: Poor boy
If you're dumb enough to listen to the same song over and over for weeks like me, you'll soon experience the sudden elation I felt upon discovering a ten-minute Latin disco version exists in the same world as literally hundreds of dark and foreboding takes on the same song. Well, I thank Santa Esmeralda from the bottom of my heart (and ears) for bringing such a song into my life. This dancefloor-filler dropped in 1975, a time so bleak people would dance to almost anything to get away from the world's woes for a few minutes (sound familiar?), and to say it's a refreshing change of pace is a major understatement. It'll make you want to dance with a rose clenched in your teeth like a bullfighter on holiday.
23 Hank Williams Jr.
Gender Perspective: "Street-guitar boy."
If anyone has been there and done that, it's Hank Williams Jr. This live version starts off a little restrained until Hank remembers who he is and rears back and lets loose a guttural wail much to the delight of the crowd. There are a bunch of outlaw country versions of this song available (Waylon does a strong take), but the energy behind Hank's attempt, complete with campy embellishments and ample creative license, has a certain infectious spontaneity to it that benefits the storytelling nature of the song. The crowd's already drunk at this point, too, so they, naturally drink up everything their hero sings.
22 Gregory Isaacs
Gender Perspective: Poor man, not a poor boy.
Yes, we need a reggae version, too. You had to ask? You can pretty much reggae-fy any song and "Rising Sun" is no different. I'm a little surprised Gregory didn't Jamaica-fy the lyrics a bit (a la Jimmy Cliff's "Take Me Home, Country Roads"), but at least that familiar undulating rhythm is here, a sorely needed change of pace on a tape of the same song over and over again. It manages to lighten up a song with an otherwise grim message, which is appreciated. I would've preferred the song be a little heavier on the upbeat and deeper on the low-end, but beggars can't be choosers, mon. Perhaps we can get Horace Andy to take this on if we ask nicely.
21 Leslie West
Gender Perspective: Poor boy.
In his 70's prime, Mountain frontman Leslie West was a giant beast of a man with a powerful set of pipes and a thunderous guitar tone to match. Other than maybe Meat Loaf, he knew his way around decadence better than most other mere mortals. I mean, you've gotta be secure in your self image to title an album The Great Fatsby, don't you? What I'm saying is that it's no stretch for him to inhabit a song like "Rising Sun." While the famed brothel was the ruin of many a poor boy, I have a feeling it was just another walk in the park for West. I imagine him booking passage on the Mississippi Queen for his ribald weekends on Bourbon Street, whooping it up and laying it down...literally. Leslie is at full-roar on this version—even with a 50-second flute intro to set the mood—bringing a convincing level of believability to the song in the process. Inspired move: inviting Italian powerhouse singer Dana Valery (his Daisy Buchanan?) in for a duet, which adds yet another layer to an already killer version.
20 Cat Power
Gender Perspective: Both! "Many a poor boy and girl..."
Chan Marshall is one of the finest song interpreters of her generation and she knows it. She's released four covers albums, some singles, and even an iTunes session (where this song comes from) along the way. It's no surprise that she strips "Rising Sun" down to its bare elements. That's just what she does. If you had a sexy, soulful voice like hers, you'd do the same. Her version drips from the rafters like hot molasses and I could listen to her voice spin tall tales until sunrise.
19 Dave Van Ronk
Gender Perspective: Poor girl.
A little prime Greenwich Village folk for ya from the Mayor of MacDougal Street, and Bob Dylan also-ran, Dave Van Ronk. If "van ronk" was a verb meaning 'to wring every ounce from every word,' then we could just say Dave "van ronks" the shit out of this song and call it a day. Extending the song to six-minutes takes some doing and his insistence upon dragging out every word for effect sometimes causes me to shift in my seat a bit, but if you were in Greenwich Village in the early-1960s, this is what you craved whilst hanging out with the beret and goatee crowd at Cafe Wha? His version of the song is credited for ushering in a more modern structure for the old bastard and he reworked it so well Bob Dylan himself stole it for his debut album much to DVR's chagrin. I don't love it, but you cannot have a "Rising Sun" mixtape without a little Van Ronk. After all, if this van is a-ronkin' don't bother knockin'.*
*I realize that makes no sense, but it amused me so I left it in anyway.
18 Woody Guthrie
Gender Perspective: Unisex! "Many a poor soul".
I was just about to put Wuauquikuna's haunting, pan flute version of "House of the Rising Sun" in this spot until I felt the ghost of Woody Guthrie looking over my shoulder saying "You are not leaving Woody Guthrie off this mixtape, my son. Not. Gonna. Happen. A pan flute? Are you serious right now?" and then he disappeared into the ether. So here's Woody's highly traditional version. It has just the right patina and reinforces the song's long presence in the American folk vernacular. But while you're here, check out the pan flute version below, which would've been perfect for an old Clint Eastwood western flick. Strangely haunting and gorgeous!
17 Sinéad O’Connor
Gender Perspective: Surprisingly, she went with poor boy.
Whenever Sinead opened her mouth (to sing) everyone present was immediately riveted. Add a classic tale of moral ruination and stir. Surprisingly, she doesn't quite knock this out of the park, but if I'm going to listen to 26 straight versions of one song, one of them is going to be by Sinead O'Connor. It's a rule I have.
16 Bobby Bare Jr.
Gender Perspective: Poor boy.
The Bare family knows their way around New Orleans, that’s for sure. Bobby Bare Sr. had a #1 country hit with his song about bayou priestess “Marie Laveaux” way back in 1973 and his son Bobby Jr. delivered a convincing version of “House of the Rising Sun” decades later. BB Jr. has since gone on to a new life as second guitarist in Guided By Voices (on most of the band's recent albums), but he’s always had the rough-hewn voice of an American troubadour making his way around America the hard way, one gig at a time. His take on “Rising Sun” has a “lived it, but learned nothing” quality that has no time for vocal histrionics or embellishment. The tale comes off as the straight dope relayed by a survivor, told years after the fact to a rapt audience (perhaps in the GBV tour bus over a case of cheap beer). What elevates his version over many other similar straight reads is the last 50 seconds, where Bobby stops singing and offers a short spoken epilogue in that deep voice of his, “We still got that house in New Orleans…made a mess of many a poor boy, and Lord God knows…I’m one.” Like a witch in the bayou, the Rising Sun sits in waiting for its next victim to this very day. If not physically, then spiritually.
15 Francesca Belmonte
Gender Perspective: Poor girl.
Most known as Tricky’s lead singer, Francesca Belmonte released one solo album in 2015 (Anima) and it looks like she hasn’t released anything since. I wonder why. The deluxe edition of that album added a jaunty, sub-2:00 swing through “Rising Sun” as a bonus track and it’s a real buried treasure. Sadly, before you know it, it’s over. Its brevity is both its best and worst quality. While I do appreciate an artist who can make a quick impression, this time the song’s late-night cool begs to hang around much longer than it does. It’s got a “last call” feel to it, like a jazz club about to lock up for the night. Still, she slithers through a shuffling groove and some tasteful horns with the efficiency of a snake cutting through tall grass. She’s clearly learned a lot about texture and mood from her past collaborations, but c’mon Francesca, take your time, we ain't goin' anywhere.
14 The Ventures
Gender Perspective: None (Instrumental).
An organ opens the song and simmers throughout, but you know you're not far from a guitar solo at any moment on a Ventures record. Here, the guitar ably substitutes for an actual vocal and loses nothing by the omission. When the song is this iconic, words really aren't that important.
SIDE B
13 The Chambers Brothers
Gender Perspective: Girl ("poor" omitted)
A live version from their Feelin' the Blues album from 1970, the Chambers Brothers bring a little "live on the street" cred to their "Rising Sun," which includes an amusing 90-second introduction that tells the story of a girl lured into the House by a strong-rappin' cat standing on the corner. Historically, the song has downplayed the "brothel" angle by focusing on gambling and drinking, but if you think there wasn't a little whoring going on, you're delusional. They try to clarify that the girl was hired to be the establishment's "receptionist" but we weren't born yesterday, we know what that means. At some point, the song, once it kicks in, adopts kind of a spooky, soulful vibe that features a more free-form improvised take on the song which is pretty well done. Not an outright masterpiece, but I appreciate the originality.
12 Bob Dylan
Gender Perspective: Poor girl.
As with any major cultural icon, anything Dylan touches gets immediate, intense attention. This also results in his work being overrated at times (especially his recent albums). It's low risk to see anything Dylan-related with rose-colored glasses and few will call you on it, either. That said, I docked his generally excellent version of "Rising Sun" down a couple pegs because Dylan pulled a dick move on his Greenwich Village folk scene cohort, Dave Van Ronk (mentioned earlier), by recording Van Ronk's version for his debut album, which Dave planned to record shortly himself, and only told him about it after the fact. Dirty pool. Granted, Van Ronk was no Dylan and Dylan's version is objectively better, but still. A very young Dylan delivers a workmanlike, snarling take on the song, especially from the 2:57 mark onward, that gives the song a needed bite while also eliminating Van Ronk's tendency to milk every word for maximum impact. Unsurprisingly, Dylan wins this Battle of the Rising Suns and all subsequent challenges for that matter.
11 Ruby Amanfu
Gender Perspective: Poor boy.
At this point, with so many covers by so many artists, you need a voice that can deliver the foreboding atmosphere the song requires. We already know Ruby is a master song interpreter, that's been proven. But her voice here—breathy, witchlike—brings a campfire vibe to the tale that comes off as part ghost story, part stern warning to all those who cross the threshold of the Rising Sun.
10 Donald Byrd
Gender Perspective: None (Instrumental)
Now we're talking. This soul-jazz version is just what this mixtape needs and just in the nick of time, too. No vocals, unless you count the worldless "ahs" of the female background singers, which complement the song's playful strut perfectly. Byrd is a cool cat, stripping the grit from the song and substituting a groove that's soulful and subtle at the same time. In fact, at times you'll have to remind yourself that this is the "House of the Rising Sun" at all. But listen closely and you'll locate that familiar melody.
09 Leadbelly
Gender Perspective: Poor boy.
Tapping the source. A pretty clean and lively version from Leadbelly which shows off some nifty guitar work in addition to his usual cut-to-the-bone vocals. This is an old-time folk song right off the front porch on a hot Saturday evening. While the ominous overtones of some versions is absent, there's a raw and real quality to the performance that makes this field recording special.
08 Tim Hardin
Gender Perspective: Poor girl.
Sometimes a brand new take on a traditional song is the way to go, but sometimes it's best to just let the song be and infuse it with your own distinct style and experiences. There's nothing particularly radical about Tim Hardin's version, but to me it's still very affecting. Maybe it's the knowledge that he tragically died of a heroin overdose at 39 that adds an undertone of authenticity to a song about a den of iniquity in New Orleans, not the best place to be if you're troubled with the bottle, or worse, a needle. He himself was ruined by addiction, so the subject matter really hits home on this version. You can just feel something extra behind it. Recorded solo in the studio—just voice and guitar—with added reverb that makes the song sound even more gutted, just like the man singing it. In my view, one of the most underrated versions of the storied song.
07 Odetta
Gender Perspective: Poor girl.
She sounds like she's been to the Rising Sun, maybe even played the lounge at some point, and has seen the carnage first hand. When I listen to this, I envision her standing centerstage in a small Southern nightclub under a tight, hazy spotlight. With her rich, seasoned voice, she relays this familiar tale, stark and haunting as it ever has been. It may be the most authentic rendition of the song ever recorded. They didn't call her the Queen of American Folk Music for nothing.
*Speaking of female folk singers, some may take issue with the absence of Joan Baez and Joni Mitchell on this mixtape. While they both cut fine versions, reared respectfully in the folk tradition, to me they lack the resonance of other, more superior, versions. Like this one, for example. No slight to their legendary status intended. While I'm here, it's also a hard 'No" from me on Dolly Parton's 80's version from the 9 to 5 album. Irritating production ruins it for me.
06 Nina Simone
05 Meshell Ndegeocello (ft. Toshi Reagon)
Gender Perspective: Poor girl (both)
The question wasn't if Nina was going to knock it out of the park, it's how far the ball would roll when it lands. With the insistent, jittery shuffle she inserts into the song, that ball may be still be bouncing around New Orleans today. Simply put, there is no way you're sitting still while her version plays—an absolute masterclass on how to deliver an old song in a fresh and exciting way. Meshell Ndegeocello apparently aced that class because her version is similarly masterful, pulled from her Nina Simone tribute album, Pour Une Âme Souveraine (For a Sovereign Soul). Here, she levels-up the jazzy bounce of Nina's version and pushes it even further into a salacious funk workout, complete with a remarkable bottom end (as you would expect from a master bassist). Nina's is perfect, but in my opinion, the mentor bests her master here by seasoning the track with the eclecticism and creative energy that has always defined New Orleans music in general.
04 The Everly Brothers
Gender Perspective: Poor boy.
When you think of these boys, you don't think of a den of iniquity in New Orleans. You think of a church pew. A family sitting down to evening dinner. Sweaters, button shirts, and pullovers. Perfect hair. Just good, patriotic boys with a squeaky-clean image. Obviously, you also think of the genetic purity of their harmonizing voices. Stereotypes be damned, they somehow managed to turn in one of the greatest versions of "House of the Rising Sun" ever recorded. A lot of the credit goes to the absolutely wild, swirling organ (played by Wrecking Crew member, Larry Knechtel) that almost converts their natural purity into decadence all by itself. Awesome stuff. And then there's Don's lead vocal, a "Holy shit, this is Don Everly?!" moment to say the least. He's off the chain here, like a schoolboy after his first few beers. It's almost as if the producer said, "Let's cut it again, Don, but this time add a little Tarzan to your vocal." The result is probably the most unhinged cut in the Everly catalog. If you thought these boys weren't corruptible, you were wrong. Aren't the purest souls the ones that fall the hardest?
03 Duane Eddy
Gender Perspective: None (Instrumental)
The song is so familiar it doesn't need words. Especially when the heavy guitar strings of Duane Eddy get a hold of it and don't let go. He's a godforsaken menace to society on the track. There's enough heaviness in Duane's guitar to crush the entire French Quarter, let alone the Rising Sun. Add some equally wicked harmonica and this soon sounds like a prototype for late-60s psych-rock and even punk for that matter. It's interesting that Eddy calls his album Duane Does Dylan because this isn't a Dylan original. Nor is it Dylan's version, as previously discussed. What a fucking legend, this guy. Totally ahead of his time.
02 Frijid Pink
Gender Perspective: Poor boy.
When is the last time you listened to this distorted, fuzz-coated psych-guitar version of "House of the Rising Sun"? It couldn't sound more like 1969 if it tried, but it still sound thrillingly alive today. It requires more electricity to power up its fucked-up amps than the entire New Orleans power grid put together, giving this old warhorse something to live for in the process. A feral vocal wails alongside the instrumental violence already underway, making this the loudest, most intense version of the song ever created. All from a band with a deceptive, New Wave-ish moniker that sounded like a fictional band in an 80's John Hughes movie more than a short-lived guitar band from the late-60's known only for covering one of the most haunting songs ever written.
01 The Animals
Gender Perspective: Poor boy.
There's good reason the Animals' "House of the Rising Sun" is considered the ultimate version of a song that has been covered literally hundreds of times prior and since. It's has the perfect balance between accessibility and authenticity. Eric Burdon's impassioned, convincing vocal has just the right amount of bite, as if he's been personally burned by the flame of the Rising Sun. It's one of those vocals where the singer absolutely nails the moment. I can't imagine the reaction in the studio after he cut it. He even looks the part, like he's fresh off a night of decadence; eyes still adjusting to the daylight, hair mussed, voice dry and raspy. Ironically, in pictures, he looks like he's dressed for Sunday school and maybe that's a good thing. He appears to have much to confess. Instrumentally, some versions of the song seem to be trying too hard, putting too much focus on the vocal or a single instrument. Not the Animals. They deliver the perfect blend of guitars (the iconic opening chords played by the fabulously-named Hilton Valentine, the bassline by Chas Chandler), Vox Continental organ (courtesy Alan Price), and the increasingly active drums that push the song to its crescendo (John Steel). When all kick in at full force near the end it's pure voodoo magic. Yes, this selection is predictable. Maybe you hoped we'd pick offer something new and different at #1 for a change. In a way, we hoped that might happen, too. But then we listened to it about twenty more times and realized how easy the choice was. It was right there all the time, in the same place they left it back in 1965. It's been the eternal favorite of many a poor boy and girl, and god, I know I'm one.
_______________________
No more "House of the Rising Sun" for me until at least 2031.
Cheers,
The Priest