The 25 worst cover songs of all time, ranked

Artists like Mick Jagger, Duran Duran, and U2 are among the big names who've turned beloved classics into mangled monstrosities

Music Features Fred Durst
The 25 worst cover songs of all time, ranked
Clockwise from top left: Britney Spears, “I Love Rock N Roll” (Screenshot: YouTube); Lenny Kravitz, “American Woman” (Screenshot: YouTube); Madonna, “American Pie” (Screenshot: YouTube); David Bowie and Mick Jagger perform “Dancing In The Street” on June 20, 1986. (Photo: Brian Cooke/Redferns) Graphic: The A.V. Club

Even great musicians with the best intentions can serve up a bad cover of a cherished song. In some cases they might try too hard to be faithful to the original, leading to an interpretation that’s too stiff or slick. Or they can alter a song until it contains just the vaguest air of what made the first version special. In some cases they can wildly misconstrue the classic track, turning their take into a memorable monstrosity.

Whatever the reason for the failings by these artists, there’s no disputing that the original songs remain beloved, which is why brutally bad updates can be so difficult to swallow. This list of the 25 worst cover songs, like our look at the 25 best cover songs of all time, doesn’t pretend to be comprehensive. Still, as we surveyed the last five decades of pop and rock music, we’ve done our best to corral the truly awful covers and order them in a way that metes out some semblance of order, if not justice.

previous arrow22. Limp Bizkit, “Behind Blue Eyes” (2003) next arrow
Behind Blue Eyes

In their first flush of fame, Limp Bizkit gained some notoriety by stripping George Michael’s “Faith” of its Bo Diddley beat so Fred Durst could bellow the chorus. It was a terrible cover, but they were saving their worst for later, when they cut the Who’s “Behind Blue Eyes” for their 2003 album Results May Vary. A hodgepodge of sincerity and smirking irony, Limp Bizkit’s “Behind Blue Eyes” plays it straight for a while, then inexplicably cuts out the cathartic bridge—the one place where the band could let loose—so the group could let a Speak N Spell literally spell out their name. That means the cover rises and falls on Durst’s ability to convey nuance, a skill that is not in his wheelhouse, as his flat affect here makes plain.

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