In music, a “cover” is an exhilarating journey of reimagining familiar melodies from around the world. But what happens when this journey carries the identity of a culture? In Kurdish music, how does the practice of reinterpretation,now intertwined with algorithms,resonate with listeners? Sometimes criticized for a perceived lack of originality, and at other times embraced as an indispensable part of the music industry, the phenomenon of the cover invites us to take a closer look.
In its broadest sense, a “cover” in music refers to the performance of a previously produced work by another person, usually in a different style. Reinterpreting or adapting a song to another form is not a new phenomenon, but it is known to have risen particularly in the early 20th century with the spread of the record industry in the United States. At that time, blues or jazz works created by Black musicians—who were often unknown and censored—were re-performed by white musicians. Researchers such as Elijah Wald note that this practice has sometimes been described as “cultural appropriation.” Many world-famous musicians rose to prominence by reinterpreting older songs. For example, Elvis Presley became known early in his career by performing blues and gospel songs. Bob Dylan’s songs provided a pathway for dozens of musicians to make a name for themselves. Today, however, covers have almost become a prerequisite for entering the music industry through social media platforms and music sites. Platforms like YouTube and TikTok have become spaces that make it easier and more appealing for musicians to perform covers.
So why do the music industry and algorithms encourage covers? And why do listeners enjoy listening to them?
According to Spotify’s 2022 Global Music Report, cover songs or, in some cases, remakes, meaning a complete re-creation of an existing work are listened to 35% more often by younger users. Audience taste plays a major role in this trend. British music sociologist and critic Simon Frith argues that two key factors drive listeners toward covers: familiarity and surprise. On one hand, there is the comfort of the historical and emotional bond the listener has with the song; on the other, the anticipation of a fresh twist on a familiar melody. Frith describes musical taste as oscillating between “closeness to the familiar” and “openness to the new.” The aesthetic balance between these two sensations shapes the listener’s relationship with a cover, creating what might be called nostalgic novelty. This dynamic often leads listeners to choose new versions of familiar melodies over songs they have never heard before. Listeners may also use the reinterpretation as a measure of the musician’s talent, appreciating them based on how they breathe new life into an old piece. In this way, artists can introduce themselves within a safer creative space.
Digital platforms such as Spotify, Instagram, YouTube, and TikTok shape their algorithms primarily around listening habits and replay rates. The statistics generated from this data push musicians to align their strategies with the algorithms in order to become more visible. When listeners repeatedly play or use melodies they already know in their own content, these platforms create a kind of “most-played” pool. Musicians then tap into this pool to stand out. Securing a spot in prominent YouTube videos especially YouTube Shorts landing on Spotify’s “Radar” playlists, or becoming a “viral sound” on TikTok often becomes much easier with songs from this cover pool.
Acoustic versions, remixes, or lo-fi covers based on familiar songs can often be identified by algorithms as “new content” This allows musicians without their own compositionsor those struggling to produce original materialto gain visibility and expand their audiences. Beyond that, artists record covers for a variety of reasons: to build a rich repertoire early in their careers; to develop technical skills through familiar works; to showcase creativity by adding an aesthetic reinterpretation; to lower copyright and production costs by using works in the public domain or older songs with no rights attached; to follow trends; to convey emotional or political messages; and to keep cultural memory alive.
Within this broader framework, the place of the cover in Kurdish music carries not only the same factors—audience taste, the influence of digital platforms, and the pull of algorithms—but also distinct dynamics of its own. In Kurdish music, a cover is not merely a reinterpretation of a song; it is an invitation for memory to return to the stage. The memories being summoned may carry with them stories of migration, displacement, discrimination, or resistance. This is one of the most striking ways in which Kurdish reinterpretation practices differ from those in other languages. Reimagining works rooted in social history becomes a powerful means of bringing a long-suppressed language and cultural identity back into spaces of expression and visibility. These performances play a crucial role in building and sustaining collective memory. When a listener hears a familiar melody in their own language, they form a deep bond not only with the song but also with their identity. This connection extends beyond the individual, creating a shared emotional space for the community—bridging generations and reuniting people scattered across different geographies around the same song and history. Nostalgic novelty makes this connection even more accessible than entirely new lyrics ever could.
Another critical dimension of memory transmission in Kurdish music is the limited use of written notation. For many years, the Kurdish musical tradition has survived largely through oral transmission. The scarcity of notated archives, the absence of recordings for much of the repertoire, and the fact that some works live only in people’s memories make the practice of reinterpretation almost a method of cultural preservation. Covering a song in Kurdish therefore ensures that the piece is etched into contemporary memory—both through sound recordings and through new performances. This helps melodies, lyrics, and stories at risk of being forgotten to survive in a lasting way in the digital age. In this sense, a cover in Kurdish music is not simply a reproduction, but also an act of safeguarding cultural material that might otherwise disappear.
Kurdish covers, while building and preserving collective memory, also carry layers of political significance. The 1990s marked a period when Kurdish music became a crucial tool of political expression both in Turkey and in the diaspora. Immediately following the years when singing in Kurdish was prohibited in Turkey, Kurdish musicians,particularly those living in Turkey and Europe,reinterpreted banned or suppressed songs, directly challenging these restrictions. During this period, groups such as Koma Berxwedan, Koma Amed, and Koma Dengê Azadî re-performed many traditional Kurdish melodies that were already familiar among the public but absent from official records, using modern arrangements. Because these groups were often the first to professionally record these songs, audiences frequently assumed they were the original composers or performers. For example, songs like Çûme Cizîrê and Amediyê were first heard by generations born in the 1990s and later through Koma Amed. Folk melodies such as Dêra Sor and Gundê Hember (Zerê) were often attributed to Koma Dengê Azadî by listeners who were unaware of their original performers.
Covers of folk songs during the 1990s became symbols of both identity and resistance to bans. Some songs were rearranged with added lyrics addressing village evacuations, unsolved murders, or forced migrations, reinforcing music’s role as a carrier of political memory. In this context, reinterpretations were crucial for bringing a prohibited language into public space and sustaining collective memory. Covering, therefore, was not merely an aesthetic choice but a form of expression asserting Kurdish identity through music. The political covers created in the 1990s continue to circulate today—on stage and across digital platforms—serving as a lasting intersection of political, cultural, and digital memory.
In this context, the practice of covering songs in Kurdish music parallels French sociologist Michel Foucault’s concept of “the incitement to discourse”, which operates within the boundaries set by power yet carries the potential to exceed and redefine them. The incitement to discourse can be understood as a suppressed language and identity creating an alternative sphere of expression outside official and hegemonic narratives. From this perspective, covers are not merely musical reproductions; they also function as a micro-level strategy of resistance against prohibitions, taboos, and censorship imposed by power structures. Through this musical resistance, the incitement to discourse makes both language and identity visible and audible.
Along with this, criticisms that artists on the Kurdish music scene who produce covers have long neglected to create original works point to the need for renewed musical production and the emergence of new voices. Such criticism has a valid basis in terms of the continuity, development, and dynamism of cultural production. Some studies suggest that as the content of language used in music expands, the language itself broadens and becomes richer. However, defining the practice of covering solely as imitation or a lack of creativity risks overlooking its discursive function within cultures whose expressive spaces are restricted. In Kurdish music, covers continue to exist both as a mechanism of resistance—pushing the boundaries set by power, opening space for language and identity—and as a form of creative reinterpretation and self-expression.
Therefore, the focus of such criticism should not be solely on the lack of new production but also on the pursuit of originality and innovation within the scene. For the development of Kurdish music, it is essential to recognize the resistant function of the cover practice while simultaneously encouraging original and creative production. This approach ensures both the preservation of cultural roots and the dynamic, innovative evolution of the music scene.
[1] Wald, E. (2004). Escaping the Delta: Robert Johnson and the invention of the blues. New York, NY: HarperCollins.
[1] Spotify 2022 Global Music Report.
[1] Frith, S. (1996). Performing rites: On the value of popular music. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press.
[1] Foucault, M. (2014). Özne ve iktidar, Seçme Yazılar 2. (O. Akınhay, Çev.). İstanbul: Ayrıntı Yayınları.
[1] Bansal, A., Agarwal, R., & Jain, K. (2025, April 29). Linguistic complexity and socio-cultural patterns in hip-hop lyrics (Preprint).
