Robit the Melomaniac

Let's break down what we can make of Olivier Libaux's cover of "No One Knows."

First, it's crucial to acknowledge the original. Queens of the Stone Age's version is a landmark of early 2000s rock: a swaggering, hard-driving, and sexually charged anthem powered by Dave Grohl's relentless drumming and Josh Homme's fuzzy, hypnotic guitar riff. It's a song of raw power and cool detachment.

Olivier Libaux's cover, likely from his "Uncovered Queens of the Stone Age" project, performs a complete and radical deconstruction. Here’s what I make of it:

From Garage Rock to Chamber Pop

Libaux, known for his work in Nouvelle Vague (a band that reimagined 1980s post-punk and new wave as bossa nova), applies a similar philosophy here.

• Tempo and Rhythm: He strips away the explosive, almost frantic energy of the original and replaces it with a slow, deliberate, and melancholic pace. The iconic drum beat is gone, often replaced by a simple, somber piano or acoustic guitar pattern.
• Instrumentation: The wall of electric guitars is replaced by minimalist, acoustic arrangements—piano, acoustic guitar, subtle strings, and atmospheric textures. This immediately changes the song's entire body, from muscular to fragile.
• Vocal Delivery: The original's confident, almost sneering vocal is replaced by a softer, more introspective, and often weary delivery. The singer (often a female vocalist in Libaux's style) isn't proclaiming the lyrics; they're confessing them.

Unveiling the Hidden Melancholy

This is where the cover becomes truly brilliant. By changing the music, Libaux forces us to listen to the lyrics in a new light. The words, which in the original could be felt as cool and cryptic, are now exposed as deeply vulnerable and desperate.

• "We get some rules to follow / That and this, these and those / No one knows": In the original, this feels like a rebellious shrug. In the cover, it sounds like genuine confusion and existential fatigue.
• "We get these pills to swallow / How they stick in your throat / Taste like gold": The original has a druggy, hedonistic vibe. The cover makes the "pills" sound medicinal, necessary but painful, and the "taste like gold" feels bitterly ironic rather than celebratory.
• "I journey through the desert / Of the mind with no hope" and "I drift along the ocean / Dead lifeboat in the sun": These lines are always vivid, but in the rock context, they're part of the cool, surreal journey. In the cover, they are stark, lonely, and terrifying images of depression and isolation. You feel the hopelessness.

* "Pleasantly caving in / I come undone": This is the climax of the transformation. In QOTSA's version, "pleasantly caving in" has a sensual, surrendering quality. In Libaux's version, it sounds like the quiet, terrifying acceptance of a complete mental and emotional collapse. "I come undone" is not a release; it's a disintegration.

A Song About Fragility, Not Power

The genius of a great cover is that it doesn't just replay a song; it reinterprets it and argues a new thesis about its meaning.

• QOTSA's Original: Argues that the chaos, confusion, and obsession of life and love are powerful, sexy, and something to ride like a wave.
• Libaux's Cover: Argues that the exact same chaos and obsession are isolating, exhausting, and ultimately a quiet, personal tragedy.

He unearths the deep-seated melancholy and vulnerability that was always buried within the song's structure, but was overshadowed by its rock bravado.

Conclusion

What I make of this song is that it is a masterclass in reinterpretation. Olivier Libaux doesn't just perform "No One Knows" in a different style; he uses that new style as a critical lens to reveal a hidden narrative within the lyrics. He transforms a defiant rock anthem into a haunting, beautiful, and deeply sad ballad about the fragility of the human psyche. It proves the songwriting strength of Josh Homme and shows that a great song can be a container for vastly different, yet equally valid, emotional truths.