Friday Song & Cover: Crying by Roy, Glen, Don, K.D. y Rebekha

My hometown colleague Sal Gomez reminded me that the great Roy Orbison (April 23, 1936 – December 6, 1988) celebrated a birthday this week. He’d have been 78, so I thought to highlight what is arguably his greatest ballad. The timeless, Crying. As well, it’s a song covered with some very notable interpretations, by equally talented artists. Two renditions have film connections, as it happens.

As Bill Dahl of Allmusic wrote:

“Under no circumstances should Roy Orbison’s “Crying” ever be listened to by anyone who’s even remotely depressed. The grief, regret, and eternal damnation to an existence drenched in tears that Orbison vividly invests with typically breathtaking vocal bravado could be overwhelming enough to drive anyone so inclined to end it all. For more stable types, “Crying” is simply a beautiful albeit heart-wrenching ballad that opens with an innocuous rhythm carried by tom-tom and acoustic guitar (the latter likely the work of Orbison himself) and steadily builds via sweeping strings and a heavy dose of melodramatic intensity to a climax of utterly shattering proportions. Orbison nails a stunning high note at the end, his mighty pipes holding it for what seems like an eternity as the strings and drums throb with sheer dread.”

Composed by Joe Melson, L. Sharpe, and Roy Orbison, the song was released as a single (that be a 45rpm vinyl record, by the way) in July of 1961. I was seven years old when this made its way to AM radio. My mother certainly played it enough. No doubt connecting with the honest and passionate lyrics. Sung by a fellow Texan, at that. The fairly popular Candy Man would be its B-side, for the analog fans reading this.

Reportedly inspired (I ask you, how could it not be?) by a broken love affair of Orbison’s a few years earlier. The song remains nothing but pure earnestness done to music. As a kid, I didn’t connect with the tune initially, like my mother had. That would come later, like everyone else, when heartbreak began to really register. It topped the Cashbox chart for a week on October 7, 1961, peaking at #2 on Billboard’s Hot 100. 

The ballad might well be the most personal tune in my music library. It remains a popular ballad with a number of cover songs through the years. Five of which keep Roy’s best company on my iPod.

Roy Orbison expressing himself as only he could. His favorite song, Roy sang Crying for all he was worth. On playback, his original still sends shivers my way all these years later.

If there’s any song a weak-throated singer shouldn’t go near, even on a good day, it’s Crying. Glen Campbell always had a marvelous voice, and this cover from his seventh album, the 1967 commercial hit Gentle on My Mind, showed it off. “…a wonderfully restrained and beautiful rendition”, as Bruce Eder said. Indeed.

The album Chain Lightning took years from recording to release, but Don McLean’s cover of Crying was the reason it saw light. Having gathered steam and airplay overseas in 1980, it went on to be a U.S. top five single in ’81. A first for its covers to reach that high since Orbison’s. Slower in tempo, but just as melancholy.

K.D. Lang gathered well-earned acclaim by the 80s, but Crying rose her career higher. In 1987, Lang performed a duet with Orbison on his old hit, which was initially recorded for the film Hiding Out. Roy’s voice couldn’t reach the notes he once did by this time. Lang’s backing filled it in, as only she could, giving the song a beautiful rendering.

As if it needed proving, the undoubtably awesome Ms. Lang demonstrated she could possess this ballad on her own. K.D.’s sublime solo of Crying made it distinctly clear, to all those listening, a man’s voice wasn’t a requirement to bring this musical tale of sorrow to bear.

Crying, as a song, exposes all. Heart and voice. It’s pitiless for those not up to it. So when Rebekha Del Rio performed an a cappella version of the song, in Spanish no less, entitled “Llorando”, for all the world to see in Silencio theatre for David Lynch’s 2001 film, Mulholland Drive, the result was simply jaw-dropping. The movie scene says it all, and then some. Without shame, Rebekha’s cover can get me crying. Every time.

The gifted Venezuelan lyricist Thania Sanz translated Crying into Llorando especially for Ms. Del Rio. I recommend reading the full story here.