Love Hurts

My friend B., who has become obsessed with Gram Parsons, stopped by the other weekend. He talked about how beautiful the Love Hurts duet with Emmylou Harris was and how he was learning the song on guitar. I agreed it was beautiful and we listened to the two versions I had: I like the Live 1973 version better than the Grievous Angel version. The entire time we were talking and listening, I was giving my friend the look that said, “You know I have to say it.” He was giving me the look in return that told me he was expecting it.

“When it comes to Love Hurts, I’ve got to go with Nazareth.” He shook his head at my predictable response.

I started to justify myself by mentioning that the Nazareth version was the first I had ever heard and that I listened to it during my formative years.

“Formative years?” he scoffed. “You must have been in high school by then.”
“I’m not that much older than you are and that song was out for a long time before I really remember listening to it.”
“You were in high school …when? 1987?”
“I graduated in 1987. I would have been listening to Love Hurts when my sister was in high school and before I even started. 1983 at the latest.”

I knew this without a doubt because Love Hurts was on the Ur-mixtape of my life: the mixtape that was the mother of all mixtapes to come. My sister D. made it on a cheap, no brand cassette tape and I would sneak in her room and listen to it when she was not around. When she was no longer interested in it, I took it over for good. I can’t say how many times I had to jam a pencil into the wheel and manually rewind that tape after the boom box ate it.

Of course we had to bet on the release date and of course Google proved me right (Hair of the Dog was released in 1974 for anyone interested). By the time we had that settled though, I had decided I wasn’t going to go with the “formative years” explanation anyway. I didn’t need excuses. The Nazareth version is one of the best break-up songs ever and I think my friends in Canada, the Netherlands and Norway (where it went to #1 on the charts) will stand with me.

When I’m dumped, do I want to hear GP and Emmylou singing sweet harmony together? No! I want to hear Dan McCafferty croak and wail. My pain is epic. It’s huge. It deserves the full force of 1974 big rock sound. Gram and Emmylou were still getting burned by a STOVE. Nazareth knew that lost love doesn’t feel like a potholder slipping out of place when you pull out a sheet of fresh-baked cookies. Unrequited love is a full-on, skin charring, eyeball melting, blue hot FLAME.

Maybe I was going too fast though in crowning Nazareth king. The only other version I had was Joan Jett. I knew she wasn’t a contender but there were other versions out there. What had I been missing between 1960 when the Everly Brothers first recorded it and now? There was only one thing to do: Comparathon.

I went to Wikipedia to compile a list of other known versions and was sidetracked with questions about the songwriters, Bodleaux and Felice Bryant. Brother-sister? Husband-wife? How did they come to write this song together? Further research made them seem like a happy couple, meeting in 1945 and married until Boudleaux’s death in 1987. Felice died in 2003. Who knows what inspired this best break-up song ever.

A few fun side facts though:

1. They also wrote All I have to do is Dream, Wake up Little Susie and Bye Bye Love. I’ve always hated Wake up Little Susie.
2. Boudleaux has one of the best names ever: Diadorius Boudleaux.
3. Felice’s given name is Matilda Genevieve.
4. Bob Dylan’s Self-Portrait album includes Take Me as I Am (Or Let Me Go) written by Boudleaux and Take a Message to Mary written by both.

Camparathon was exhausting and I only heard a fraction of the versions out there. By the end of it, I was ready to shove a knife in my ears if I heard it again. From my the master list, I was able to listen to Everly Brothers, Roy Orbison, Cher, Jennifer Warnes, Heart, Pat Boone, Little Milton and Lucinda Williams, Robin Gibb, Emmylou and Elvis Costello, Keith Richards and Norah Jones, and Rod Stewart. I heard 30 seconds of Sinead O’Connor.

Heart was my favorite but let’s never mention Pat, Jennifer, or Robin ever again. Roy and Rod were runners up – I love their quirky voices and I guess I just want that in my Love Hurts. I love Lucinda Williams and enjoyed most of the Little Milton duet but I found my mind wandering at the end. Same with Emmylou and Elvis. I’ll give those another listen some day when I have not listened to 16 versions in a row. Cher gets bonus points for best costume and for singing like she knows hurt in the Live in Providence YouTube clip.

The Everly Brothers were just too jangly and light. The downfall of most of the versions was fruity instrumental parts and annoying back-up vocals. Norah Jones was beautiful but Keith had some weird vocal affectations. The hideous, spoken “I love you's” thrown in by Robin Gibb were intolerable.

I was particularly disappointed not to have access to The Who, Journey, Kim Carnes, Corey Hart, Juice Newton, Leo Sayer and Bon Jovi. But I'm on the lookout now.

Nazareth still wins, but thank God I don't have to pick just one.