An astute reader pointed out after reading my last post, featuring Terry Bush’s song “Maybe Tomorrow,” that the cover song by the New Zealand band Goldenhorse may not actually be a cover of that song. “The lyrics aren’t the same,” she said, pointing out the obvious.
My bad. When I played the Terry Bush song in the house one day, my Kiwi partner said, “hey, that’s a New Zealand song!” I took that and ran with all kinds of excitement, both our ears deceived, and neither looking closely enough to be sure. This raises a bunch of interesting philosophical questions such as, “do we just hear what we want to” and “what makes a cover a cover,” none of which we will explore right here.
Rather, let’s give the other “Maybe Tomorrow” band, Goldenhorse, a closer look. The Auckland-based five-piece originated in 2000. The famous Finn brothers, Tim and Neil of Crowded House fame, had taken an interest in a previous project of some of the band members, and that interest carried over to the new group. Tim Finn loaned Goldenhorse a tape machine and recording desk, allowing the group to make a record.
That record, Riverhead, was released in October 2002. Although its initial impact was minor, its singles began building momentum while the band toured its homeland. By 2004 the album was sitting atop the national charts, with “Maybe Tomorrow” as a standout single.
“Maybe Tomorrow” is credited to band member Geoff Maddock. It’s a great song that is not, in fact, a cover. Was Terry Bush’s Littlest Hobo theme an inspiration, given its international reach and timely commercial resurgence? I suspect there is no direct connection, but I’d be interested to know if Bush might have been a subtle influence. I welcome comments and insights; this blog is meant to be fun but also accurate, informative, and engaging.
Thanks to the reader who brought this to my attention, for being on the ball, calling this error to my attention, and providing an obvious opportunity to highlight a great New Zealand band.
On another note, we acknowledge the passing of the great BB King. Much ink has been spilled by now, eulogizing the man and his great accomplishments borne of humble and difficult beginnings in the American South, who went from Mississippi to Montreaux. I will simply recognize the insights of some of Winnipeg’s very fine guitarists and blues artists (to be featured themselves in future posts) in recognizing King’s legendary kindness and encouragement. A master, and a king indeed.