Tribute albums often range from challenging reinterpretations of an artist or band’s work to overly reverent cover-version samplers. “Instant Karma: The Campaign to Save Darfur,” a two-disc set of selections from John Lennon’s solo career, often falls into the latter camp.
U2 and R.E.M. – each the subject of multiple tribute albums themselves – seem to turn up as regularly on these things as Brett Somers and Charles Nelson Reilly appeared on “Match Game.” Their versions of “Instant Karma” and “#9 Dream,” respectively, are unlikely to surprise anyone. Likewise, Green Day fans can predict how “Working Class Hero” will sound, even if they missed it on “American Idol.”
This is not necessarily a bad thing, though, since satisfying the audiences of these various performers may go a long way toward satisfying the goal of this project: to raise awareness and funds for civilian victims of the catastrophic human-rights abuses occurring in Darfur, Sudan and neighboring Chad.
Amnesty International enlisted Yoko Ono to assist in their campaign for Darfur relief, and she responded by granting the organization all publishing royalties for the Lennon songs released on this set and its ancillary downloads. Certainly, the project’s intentions are admirable, and compared with previous uses of the Lennon “brand” (such as songwriting contests and a line of baby clothes), it embodies the spirit of Lennon’s renowned philanthropic humanism.
The fact that it’s only occasionally true to Lennon’s spirit of creative innovation is hardly unexpected, but there are gems in the collection, mostly provided by cult artists and relative newcomers. The Flaming Lips bravely rework “(Just Like) Starting Over,” a poignantly jaunty ode to romantic optimism that haunted the airwaves in the sad weeks after Lennon’s murder in 1980. Instead of the original’s retro chug, this version is subdued and ghostly, Wayne Coyne’s halting vocal suggesting the sorrow that now unavoidably overshadows Lennon’s lighter intention.
Regina Spektor rescues “Real Love” from its strange distinction as a posthumous Beatles “reunion” track, recorded as a Lennon home demo and reworked by the remaining Beatles for their 1996 “Anthology” multimedia retrospective. With her sweetly unaffected singing, modest but richly musical piano and minimal production garnish, Spektor achieves the plaintive beauty of Lennon masterpieces like “Across the Universe,” “Imagine” and “Oh My Love” without a hint of imitation.
Yet such pleasures, along with a sort of second-generation Concert For Bangladesh courtesy of Jakob Dylan and Dhani Harrison’s “Gimme Some Truth,” don’t completely overcome the overall drag effect.
A pedestrian “Cold Turkey” is offered by human tribute album Lenny Kravitz. And “God” gets a silly literal reading by Jack’s Mannequin featuring Mick Fleetwood, which begs the question: Should anyone but John sing “I just believe in me . . . Yoko and me”?
Probably not. But for the cause of Darfur, it’s almost forgivable.