By Sylvia W. Chan

A CLASSIC SONG is a bit like the human genome folks claim to have just cracked the code to – if you really wanted to know why, for example, Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata, anything by the Jackson 5, or the Oscar Meyer bologna jingle just happen to have made legions lift their heads throughout the ages and start humming along, you'd have to procure a few truckloads of grant money (difficult to come by since the NEA sucks), round up a bevy of record store nerds (easy to come by, hard to control), and start dissecting each melodic nanosecond to see how and why certain congregations of sounds just happen to adhere to our brains like white on rice.

However, until the ultimate groove junkie comes along to instigate such research, the best test of a tune's "classic" nature is usually to ask yourself: "Would this sound good if someone else were doing it?" And if you changed the tone, the tempo, and in some cases, the intent, would the melody and mood of the song hold up? Think Shirley Horn singing Kermit the Frog's signature song, "(Being) Green." Surely, watching Horn, an accomplished jazz vocalist and pianist of the highest degree, perform a tune made famous by a Muppet transforms the song's overall effect on the listener. While all the poignancy of Kermie's original is present in Horn's version, the fact that Horn is, well, human, injects the tune with oodles of irony that could not be conveyed otherwise.

And thus, this is the nature of the standard, the track that can be done over and over and over again, by artists as disparate as Sammy Hagar, the Staple Singers, the Whoridas, and Michael Bolton (who have all covered Otis Redding's "Sittin' on the Dock of the Bay"), or as dissimilar as LeAnn Rimes, the Art Ensemble of Chicago, and Bruce Hornsby (who've all covered another tune of Redding's, "These Arms of Mine"). Every jazz musician has a phone-book-thick fake book, a tome packed with classic melodies that every player worth his or her salt should be familiar with and be able to play on a dime.

So what are the standards of today? Or wait, allow me to phrase that differently – what would we want to be the standards of today? I swear, I think every prepubescent girl at my junior high attempted a version of "The Greatest Love of All" at the talent show, while all the fellas wanted to be New Edition singing "Candy Girl." But forget about the obvious choices.

There are songs that deserve to be heard time and time again, songs that would hold up no matter what or who performed 'em, whether they went fast or slow, whether sung by human or Muppet. The following is an entirely subjective, non-exhaustive, and most definitely incomplete list of (fairly) recent releases this writer would personally like to hear more versions of in her old age, culled from the helter-skelter pile of CDs, tapes, and vinyl that have taken over a corner and are encroaching on her living room.

1. Tom Waits, 'The Piano Has Been Drinking'

Containing the classic lines "The box office is drooling / The bar stools are on fire / The newspapers were fooling / The ashtrays have retired," this song has Waits pulling off his drunken stupor act with astonishing finesse, as the piano tinkles recklessly beneath his tortured vocals. The lyrics are hilarious, however, and even with all the intentional melodic teeter-tottering, the notes that accompany the refrain of "The piano has been drinking / Not me" are definitely hum-through-the-ages material.

2. TLC, 'Waterfalls'

I never woulda picked this except that I saw the late, great Lester Bowie cover it with Brass Fantasy at Yoshi's a few years back, and it grooved hard. And if a big brass band can do it and make it work, anyone can.

3. Jevetta Steele, 'Calling You'

Off the Bagdad Cafe soundtrack, this song so thoroughly haunted my soul that I couldn't listen to it at one point in my life for fear of getting too emotional. And though Steele's vocals suit the track just fine, she isn't exactly Aretha Franklin (and what the hell else has she done?). Someone should cover this right now. It's too lovely to be forgotten.

4. Peter Gabriel, 'In Your Eyes'

This is a cheater because there already exists a first-rate rendition by jazz singer extraordinaire Dianne Reeves. I heard it blasting over the sound system at Amoeba Music on Telegraph and had to buy it immediately. Plus – cheesy as it may be – I've always loved that John-Cusack-with-the-radio-over-his-head scene in Say Anything.

5. Ledisi, 'Take Time'

The first time I heard local chanteuse Ledisi do this track, I thought it was a standard. Imagine my surprise when I found out that in fact, it was an original tune composed by Miss Ledisi herself, along with her musical partner, Sundra Manning. It would probably be good to wait till Ledisi herself blows up (which she will) to cover this one. In the meantime, grab a copy of Soulsinger, her independently released debut, and peep this, the most soothing, cathartic, you-go-girl anthem anywhere.

6. The Cure, 'One More Time'

Somebody built and healthy-looking should belt this one, maybe R. Kelly, or the guys from Jodeci. While Robert Smith's whole thang isn't exactly appealing to urban audiences, this track, with its soaring chorus, sheer romanticism, and unbridled passion, has all the makings of the perfect R&B ballad.

7. Prince, 'How Come You Don't Call Me Anymore?'

Even though it was released as a B-side, everyone already knows this gospel-inflected, alone-at-the-piano number is one of the best songs Prince Rogers Nelson's ever done, and that's saying an awful lot for a man who writes a tune, like, every 10 seconds.

8. Abbey Lincoln, 'Who Used to Dance'

People often forget that the luminous Lincoln is a prolific composer, a woman who's written many of the melodies on her countless, constantly wonderful albums. This one, a wistful meditation on things past, is stunning in its simplicity, the perfect tune for all of life's nostalgic moments.

9. The Roots, 'You Got Me'

All right, hip-hop tunes probably aren't the best thing to do over, but the hook on this one, sung by garbled-mouth Erykah Badu, is one of the most winsome, mellifluous things to emerge from any genre in ages. Some clever producer, if smart, should be able take it to a whole other level.

10. Mary J. Blige, 'Real Love'

Usually with Mary songs, you like 'em because Mary's singing. But this, her breakthrough hit, possesses a bass line that thumps so hard and deep that anyone with the skills to handle the vocals should do just fine.

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