Originally penned by Tim Buckley and Larry Beckett, “Song to the Siren” found new and haunting life in the hands of This Mortal Coil, the dream-pop supergroup project led by 4AD’s Ivo Watts-Russell. Featured on the 1984 album It’ll End in Tears, this version is perhaps the most ethereal and emotionally arresting interpretation of the song - and a defining moment not just for the album, but for the 4AD label as a whole.
The track features Elizabeth Fraser of Cocteau Twins on vocals, and her performance is nothing short of transcendent. Fraser’s voice, delicate yet otherworldly, floats over a sparse, ambient backdrop of gently plucked guitar (played by Robin Guthrie). There are no drums, no theatrics - just an open space filled with aching vulnerability and mystical longing. Her phrasing - sometimes barely decipherable - adds a ghostlike quality, emphasizing the sense of emotional distance and unreachable desire that runs through the lyrics.
The production is deliberately minimal, allowing each note to breathe. The reverb-drenched guitar feels like it’s echoing across time, and Fraser’s vocals shimmer like light on water. It's a masterclass in restraint and atmosphere, and the emotional power is all the more intense for it.
Lyrically, the song draws from myth and metaphor, casting the “siren” as both irresistible and destructive - an embodiment of love, loss, and longing. In This Mortal Coil’s hands, these words take on a timeless, spiritual gravity. It's less a performance than an invocation, a lament whispered across a desolate sea.
This version of “Song to the Siren” is often cited as one of the most beautiful cover songs ever recorded - and with good reason. It distills the ache of unfulfilled love into a stark, haunting soundscape that is both intimate and infinite. This Mortal Coil and Elizabeth Fraser crafted a version that transcends genre and era - a quiet, devastating masterpiece of ethereal sorrow.
The track features Elizabeth Fraser of Cocteau Twins on vocals, and her performance is nothing short of transcendent. Fraser’s voice, delicate yet otherworldly, floats over a sparse, ambient backdrop of gently plucked guitar (played by Robin Guthrie). There are no drums, no theatrics - just an open space filled with aching vulnerability and mystical longing. Her phrasing - sometimes barely decipherable - adds a ghostlike quality, emphasizing the sense of emotional distance and unreachable desire that runs through the lyrics.
The production is deliberately minimal, allowing each note to breathe. The reverb-drenched guitar feels like it’s echoing across time, and Fraser’s vocals shimmer like light on water. It's a masterclass in restraint and atmosphere, and the emotional power is all the more intense for it.
Lyrically, the song draws from myth and metaphor, casting the “siren” as both irresistible and destructive - an embodiment of love, loss, and longing. In This Mortal Coil’s hands, these words take on a timeless, spiritual gravity. It's less a performance than an invocation, a lament whispered across a desolate sea.
This version of “Song to the Siren” is often cited as one of the most beautiful cover songs ever recorded - and with good reason. It distills the ache of unfulfilled love into a stark, haunting soundscape that is both intimate and infinite. This Mortal Coil and Elizabeth Fraser crafted a version that transcends genre and era - a quiet, devastating masterpiece of ethereal sorrow.