Examining a jazz standard should require looking at not just the first recording of a tune, but the most popular. “Strange Fruit,” though, finds both of those things in the Billie Holiday version. Her singing is rightly considered the basis for each version that was to come afterwards.

Holiday’s recording of the song, in not just its initial incarnation, but each subsequent version that was put to tape, finds the singer belting out couplets at the slowest pace possible. It’s inarguable that the words comprising “Strange Fruit” trump any musical accompaniment that the song has found over time.

In contrast to some of the more swinging fare that Holiday worked with, there’s a sparse backing band included in most of the recorded versions. Most frequently, there’s a solitary piano and Holiday’s vocal. As with most jazz that eschews instrumental formats, the piano doesn’t garner a solo, which is in stark contrast to the work Holiday would do with saxophonist Lester Young.

Considering the importance of the lyrical content here, it’s surprising that Bechet would make a recording of the song. On this instrumental version of the song, his clarinet takes the place of a vocal line. Oddly enough, the woodwind instrument is almost as expressive as Holiday’s voice.

The wavering notes that Bechet lays out, backed only by a piano and a guitar, aim at maintaining the same sort of lamentation that marked Holiday’s performance. Somehow, he succeeds. The triumphal nature of Bechet’s version, though, points to how inspirational a song can become in a short time. It’s worth noting that because each song was released within the same calendar year, the Bechet version should be seen as a cover as opposed to a true re-interpretation.

Considering the distance in time and personal background that separates the two earlier versions from the Pierce version, the Gun Club’s recording of “Strange Fruit” should be seen as something of a cultural appropriation.

As the leader of his group, Pierce sought to align himself with a repressed segment of the population - the cultural other. Utilizing a song about a lynching to comment upon his own torment makes Pierce’s version of the song drastically different that that of Bechet’s. Whereas the clarinet player lived the same troubled times as Holiday, Pierce came about his dissatisfaction with the wider culture from feeling disgust for the political and social problems he saw around him.

Musically, the Gun Club is removed from previous recorded versions of “Strange Fruit.” There’s not a hint of traditional jazz in the proceedings as a bass guitar finds itself being strummed without any intent of a proper note being expelled. Pierce, as he moans in a tune that might only make sense in his own head, coaxes a procession of disconnected notes from his electric guitar. One might figure that this musical backing for a song so tied to jazz is attempting to reference free players like Sonny Sharock or James Blood Ulmer. Instead, it’s safe to assume that the Gun Club heard a low key ballad, impassioned by confusion at the surrounding culture and turned that dismay into an atonal music.

The Billie Holiday version of “Strange Fruit” will always remain the definitive recording. But inherent in each take of the standard is a personal message. It just takes a good listener to figure out what’s being conveyed.