The band Postmdern Jukebox is killing it at covers
The cover band that every person with working ears should be aware of is tucked away not too far under the surface of YouTube and Spotify: Jukebox in the postmodern era.
The group, known to its fans as PMJ—and with over six million YouTube subscribers, there are a lot of us—was created by jazz pianist and musical genius Scott Bradlee, who reinvents hit songs and crafts them into vintage gems in a way that only blue wish-granting genies could.
If you can immediately think of a jumbled assortment of 90s songs as a monster hit single, you could have:
a) Snootily wondered out loud why in the universe anybody allowed such an abomination to be made public.
b) Quietly and uncomfortably questioned what in the world would have driven you to stand by the radio for hours on end, a blank cassette tape in hand, ready to capture said atrocity.
You’ve come to the correct location if you are the embarrassed owner of that radio and blank cassette. PMJ has been known to transform MMMbop by Hanson into a 1950s-style song, make Oops!…, and even transform Wanna Be by the Spice Girls into harmonies that would typically come from The Chordettes (think Mr. Sandman). It sounds pretty palatable, I Did It Again. (Britney Spears is a magnificent lady, bless her, for having endured all that has come her way, but no one will ever refer to her as the Mozart of the 90s.
It is important to point out quickly that Bradlee does not consider himself the Mozart of the twenty-first century, but there is no doubting that he is a guy with extensive keyboard knowledge. Before anything else, Bradlee was a jobless jazz pianist who would perform with his pals in his basement apartment. One day, an idea dawned on him, and he uploaded a video of them jamming together to YouTube. There was no turning around.
Ever since then, Bradlee and the rest of PMJ have only gotten better, amassing a devoted fan base on the internet and landing a tour across the globe. Only a few days prior, the PMJ group performed in several locations around Ireland. Bradlee has done what all musicians hope to achieve when they begin their careers: kept faithful to his music and wrapped it up for his listeners, all without the help of a record company.
Cover bands are many because YouTube offers aspiring artists a fairly scalable entrée into the music industry. However, because musical snobs and purists are equally plentiful, it can be nearly hard for a cover band to gain a fanbase. The hearts of the aforementioned snobs can be difficult to win over, even for well-established and really talented musicians. No slouch in the intellectual department, Weird Al Yankovic will either have you crying with laughter at his ridiculous, ironic performance of Bohemian Rhapsody, or he will make you swear to chop off your ears. Even though Michael Buble’s voice is like warm, rich amber honey that instantly penetrates your soul, a tiny portion of him will always be associated with That Sinatra Guy (when he’s not nicknamed That Christmas Guy). The ability of PMJ to fool its listeners into thinking that their rendition of the song sounds exactly like the original is what makes them unique. You haven’t lived until you’ve heard a cheerful 1950s My Heart Will Go On, or a 1920s Gatsby-style Bad Romance, which Jack and Rose would have danced to in a previous life if there had been space on that door.
Essentially, there are four easy phases that make up what Bradlee accomplishes.
1. Play a well-known tune. This might be anything from Love Story to Call Me Maybe to Last Christmas, as music is so individualized.
2. Assign each member of your rotating group of extraordinarily talented musicians a separate part. You can tell after only two minutes into any PMJ video that Bradlee exclusively works with the greatest musicians, and you can see by the look on their faces that they are all having a great time. Bradlee plays the piano almost all the time. His trademark unrelenting bass line propels each song ahead as his right hand darts over the higher octaves and his left hand darts across the lower notes. Occasionally, when a percussion equipment isn’t enough, a tap dancer steps up to give beloved tunes a fresh spin. At other instances, a lady wearing a sparkly dress starts to sing The Final Countdown. Halfway through her solo, she casually removes her trombone mute and plays the rest of the song.
3. Hire a superb vocalist, defined as someone who can do Smooth Criminal with the speed of Michael Jackson and the diction of Henry Higgins on their resume. Or maybe you “can croon like a jazz star and whistle like a Disney princess.”
4. Gather everyone in one group. Enter a time machine and generate a sound from a decade in the past. Take one take and record it live. Upload it on YouTube.
Don’t waste any more time. Go online and search for PMJ with the assurance that you won’t have to skip a single song once you get started.
I am a dedicated student currently in my seventh semester, pursuing a degree in International Relations. Alongside my academic pursuits, I am actively engaged in the professional field as a content writer at the Rangeinn website.
