What constitutes a good cover? Over the last five months, the endearingly opinionated commentariat over at The Onion’s A.V. Club have publicly debated their merits and pitfalls below each installment of Undercover, its 25-week web series. The premise: Bands cram into a quaintly claustrophobic studio to perform selections from a list of preselected A.V. Club favorites that range from the obvious (Journey, The Rolling Stones) to the relatively obscure (The Wedding Present, Archers of Loaf). The later the band participates, the fewer choices it has. Behind the project is A.V. Club editor Josh Modell, a man whose labor of love saddled him with the unenviable task of navigating the volatile schedules (and temperaments) of indie-rock bands. Modell answered a few of Arts Desk’s questions via email as the series draws to a close, discussing the possibility of another season, Jeff Tweedy's nonparticipation, and the (potentially) misunderstood genius of Fall Out Boy.

Talk a little about the selection of the songs for Undercover. The focus on new "classics" made the series such a unique undertaking. Was there a veto process involving the AV club staff?

The criteria were really loose and simple: We wanted songs that we liked and/or thought would make fun covers, and that hadn't been covered a ton of times before. We originally had a list of 50, which was how many I thought we'd do, but that turned out to be a little overambitious. I'm not sure I agree that the focus was on "new classics," though there were certainly some of those (like "Two-Headed Boy"). It turned out, in my mind, to be a nice mixture of familiar songs with a few surprises and deeper cuts. One that I chickened out on was "What's On Your Mind (Pure Energy)" by Information Society. I'm still sort of on the fence about it, because we don't want Undercover to be parodies or gimmicky, and it might be tough to take that song seriously. Some others on the short list included "If I Can't Change Your Mind" by Sugar and "The Bitterest Pill" by The Jam. Maybe those will make it into next year's series, assuming we do one.

Were there any bands that you absolutely wanted to involve when you first conceived of the project? Did anyone agree that never made it in?

I approached probably ten bands that said no, and those were mostly for scheduling reasons. Since we shoot these at our office in Chicago, we're at the mercy of touring-band schedules. Sometimes they'll have a couple of hours to spare, other times it just won't work. The Antlers couldn't do it when they came through in March, but were able to when they came back through in April, for example. Nobody ever got as far as agreeing to do it and then backing out. As far people who turned us down, the only one I'll mention is Jeff Tweedy. Jeff, it's only a 10-minute drive from your house!

Jeff Tweedy is officially on notice. You made mention of "What's On Your Mind (Pure Energy)" as an example of a cover that might seem like a novelty. What makes for a good cover? Were there any improbable pairings that turned out better than expected?

It's tough to say what will make a good cover. For purposes of this series, it seems to be songs that people are already pretty familiar with, like Hall and  Oates' "One On One." But I think somebody could do a great cover of "What's On Your Mind" if they, ahem, set their minds to it. I was curious about who would tackle "Paper Planes" and what they'd do with it, and I think The Clientele's version of it—which sort of wussifies it without making it a joke at all—was amazing. On the other hand, you can also have a great band—like Ted Leo & The Pharmacists—do a really straight-up cover and it'll turn out great. So maybe it's luck, or magic. Maybe a more direct answer to this question would be an interesting band plus an interesting song will make a great cover. One idea at the beginning was that the "silly" songs (like "We Built This City" and "Kokomo") would present challenges to bands, and that they'd be picked much later. That didn't turn out to be the case.

The final three selections were by Superchunk, R.E.M., and Billy Squier. What observations are there to draw from the last songs standing?

Only that what I imagined would happen—the “silly” songs be chosen last—didn't really happen. The R.E.M. song is such a big one, and would seem a relatively easy choice, but there it is in the final three. Superchunk I figured would be a tougher sell, because I think it takes a specific type of band to do it justice. Billy Squier was sort of a wild card in my mind, and I guess I'm not surprised it lingered on the list for so long. I bet if we had picked "The Stroke" instead, it would have been chosen sooner.

How far in advance did bands have to pick the songs/ practice before coming into the studio? It seems like some had a real enthusiasm for the idea whereas others seemed downright confused.

Bands would generally pick the song 3-4 weeks before they'd come in to play it, so they had plenty of time to practice it if they wanted to. Some clearly practiced a lot, while others kinda winged it. I think both approaches yielded some great results. Owen Pallett told us he hadn't really prepared his song (Guided By Voices' "Game Of Pricks") at all, yet it sounded fantastic. Wye Oak had played their song (The Kinks' "Strangers") at a bunch of shows leading up to the taping here, so they were all set.

You mentioned that Undercover might return next year. Having gone through it once, would you do differently next time around?

A few things. I think we learned something about song selection—what seems to work and what doesn't. I think in general we'll probably push more for full-band setups over acoustics (though Frightened Rabbit and Clem Snide were two of my favorites, and those were acoustic). There are some sound things we can work on, like providing in-ear monitors for bands that are going to play loud. And I think we're going to try and involve the readers in choosing the songs next year. Maybe sports-style brackets and eliminations.

"What works" in terms of the song selection? Songs that people are more familiar with?

I think the best answer is just that we consider it a good song, regardless of genre/era, etc, and probably one that people are at least passingly familiar with.

Is the A.V. Club right or the world wrong in their impression of Fall Out Boy?

I can't really answer that, because I'm woefully uneducated about Fall Out Boy. I know "Sugar, We're Going Down Swinging," and some vague tabloid-y stuff about Pete Wentz, but I actually don't know much about their music. There are just a few vocal fans at The A.V. Club. That said, Patrick Stump was an incredibly nice guy, and I thought he turned in an amazingly soulful version of one of my favorite songs of all time!

Enough already. Who was your favorite?

I honestly don't know. I am truly fond of pretty much all of them, and they're all tied to the process of shooting them as well—the bands were all really cool and patient and nice. Everybody gets an A+, just like in real life.

The Apples in Stereo can surely be considered one of indie pop's greatest input-output contraptions. The band—born in Colorado in the early '90s, and a founding ensemble of the Athens, Ga., Elephant 6 collective—has spent a career sharpening the recognizable tropes and aberrant impulses of '60s sunshine pop and psychedelia. Some of the group's albums, like the ambitious and discursive Her Wallpaper Reverie, were unraveled and perfectly excessive, dotted with sound collages and sonic daydreams. Others have centered on tight, Brian Wilson-esque pop. On the group's latest, Travellers in Space and Time, the Apples seem to have emerged from psychedelia's heyday and entered its mid-'70s half-life, when the movement's ideas informed the radio-friendly studio concoctions of bands like Electric Light Orchestra—an era when there was nothing especially discordant about matching a chorus of vocoders to a full string section. It was a time when it was OK to decorate your album with what looked a Simon-shaped UFO painted by Bob Ross.

But it's also clear that a host of  ideas from wildly divergent places—many surprising—goes into every Apples in Stereo album—the latest, out next Tuesday, is no exception. We asked the band's longtime bassist, Eric Allen, to share some of his favorite songs and influences. Listen to what he picked—from Void to Chuck Brown to Bahamanian pop—-after the jump. The Apples in Stereo perform with Generationals at the Rock & Roll Hotel on Sunday.

The Beginning of the End | "Funky Nassau" This is a group that was out of the Bahamas. It was out on Atco records, which was distributed by Atlantic. It’s got some kind of island porn sound to it. I’m not sure why it was never a hit in the U.S. I’m sure people in Japan listen to it.

The Olivia Tremor Control | "Jumping Fences" This has always been one of my fave songs by them. Bill Doss, who wrote that song, is now in the Apples—he's an official member on this album. I had to put that in. Flying Burrito Brothers | "Mental Revenge" I like the Burritos a lot… [the song] is funny but it’s really mean. It's about someone who’s really suffered at the hands of a loved one or spouse. He's wishing them good fortune but actually wishing them bad things.

Chuck Brown and the Soul Searchers | "Bustin' Loose" I grew up in Alexandria. Actually, John Hill, our Apples guitarist, we went to the same high school in Alexandria. Chuck Brown reminds me of junior high and on. "Bustin Loose" is one of those songs that pops out in my head from time to time. Lothar and the Hand People | "Sister Lonely" They’re a band they were signed to Capitol Records, I think around '66 '67. They started out as a jug band—they went to the University of Denver. They played locally, and when [the Lovin Spoonful] came through town and saw Lothar, they said, You guys gotta come to New York. ... Lothar is actually their theremin. They were really into early electronic music and circuit bending, and other times it sounds like weird loop music.

Orchestre Granville Desronvil | "Profound Admiration" (from the Alan Lomax in Haiti box set) It’s a 10-CD box set. I love that track, but there’s so many good tracks on it...it’s good as far as getting people to pay attention to Haiti.

Patrick Porter | "Wait for Another" Patrick Porter is an amazing singer-songwriter and writer. He’s written novels, he’s written works of poetry... he also plays every instrument on the record. This was put out by a label called Greyday. Either they did a shitty job or no job promoting it. He's a beautiful songwriter.

Void | "Ignorant People"

The Faith/Void album changed my life in high school—that and all the Minor Threat stuff and the Flex Your Head compilation. I’d heard Black Flag, but man, the early D.C. hardcore, especially the Void half of that album, it blows me away. Like a Rolling Stones record. I was really young, I was 13-years-old, but it was so fast and tight. I wasn’t part of any scene; I was just a little kid living in Virginia. I don’t know, it was so fast and tight and real and visceral. To me that’s honest, that’s about as honest as you can get. It may not be a truth that people want to hear but it’s honest. Psychedelia is about exploring and looking for new truths in music, so musically there's not a lot of connection [to hardcore]—but spiritually there might be.

Sarah Vaughan | "Like Someone in Love"

I’m a big jazz fan so I felt I’d be remiss if I didn’t put something on here. Once again, it’s just a beautiful song. There’s a version of her in London singing it that's really good—and she has such a nice husky voice.

*The Chicago Trib calls out Broken Bells for "sticking to the script" too faithfully during the duo's SXSW debut. The new project, a collaboration between James Mercer of these guys and DJ Danger Mouse of these guys, these guys, this guy, this, this, &c., looks good on paper. (Side note: Isn't Danger Mouse at this point sort of like a trendy accessory? Like making sure to have Chase Insteadman at your party?) J.L. Fischer has listened to the record once, but he's a close listener, and he says it's boring.

*THE DEPARTMENT OF JUSTICE WILL PREVAIL: Man punished for considering playing a Killers song with his cover band.

*The semi-latest tweet from the only Twitterer worth following:

*Tim Burton's next project: The Addams Family. (True story! I know, I know. But we're not even fucking with you this time.)

*Tonight in City Lights: "The World of Jacques Tati" at AFI Silver Theatre

Then, shortly thereafter, there were no aisles left to dance in. VHS made the concert film less of a public event and more of an at-home-with-a-bag-of-Cheetos experience. By the time Radiohead made its stuffy tour film, Meeting People is Easy, in the late '90s, the wonder and mystique were pretty much extinguished. Then YouTube came along and the screen got smaller still. These days, the large-scale concert film genre is basically a graveyard—home to the dead (Michael Jackson, This Is It) and the undead (The Rolling Stones, Shine a Light), with the JoBros the only remaining trace of once abundant youthful vigor.

Perhaps those eerie vibes are what has drawn D.C. expats Dead Meadow to the scene. Or maybe the trio, who play bluesy psych-rock, had been spending a lot of time with Led Zeppelin's The Song Remains The Same. Whatever the rationale, in March the band will release Three Kings, a film that's one part concert footage, one part stoner-ghosts walking around in robes, and one part bassist Steve Kille firing an Uzi at a light bulb. At least, that's what this preview suggests.

A video for the song "That Old Temple," excerpted from the film, is up after the jump

Dead Meadow "That Old Temple" from Artificial Army on Vimeo.

I'm fascinated by the notion of influences and inspirations, especially when they're mashed up and twisted by geographical and cultural differences. Listening to any The Soundtrack Of Our Lives album conjures up bits from the historical nature of rock n roll—how it was served like a flaming tennis ball across the pond to Britain by Chuck Berry, volleyed back by the Rolling Stones and returned again by Otis Redding.

Often they cram the entire playlist of a classic rock station into one song, other times appropriating (doppelganger-style) a signature sound, as in the Doors' knockoff "Age of No Reply" from Origin, Vol. 1.

For some reason, and much like their fellow Swedes the Hellacopters, it works. It must be the earnestness and reverences they employ. American bands who try this approach end up sounding like Matchbox 20, or are Matchbox 20.

Communion, the new T.S.O.O.L album continues this trend. The album, however, does not hew to serious indie sensibility nor will it receive much critical love. It is fun, though, and well crafted. Songs like "Flipside" finds relation to the Who's "Goin' Mobile" while "Fly" gets all Mamas and Papas.

One could argue that the double album approach includes too much filler. True, Communion does have its share of ballad-y cheese, but I prefer to view it from a the standpoint of jazz musicians who use space and silence—the cheddar numbers with their drops in tempo enable a bigger impact in the the rock songs.

RA 88 from Communion:

Flipside from Communion:

Age of No Reply from Origin, Vol. 1:

Infa Riot from Behind the Music:

Her Strut – the Hellacopters