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This Bonnie Raitt hit was inspired by a newspaper story about street drunks | Story Behind the Song

on July 28, 2025 No comments
Melonee Hurt   Nashville Tennessean

Songwriters Mike Reid and Allen Shamblin tell the Story Behind the Song ‘I Can’t Make You Love Me’ to NSAI’s Bart Herbison


Story Summary

  • The song was inspired by a quote in a Tennessean story from 1989.
  • The song was recorded by Bonnie Raitt, George Michael, Prince, Boys II Men and Adele.

The heart-wrenching ballad, “I Can’t Make You Love Me,” written by songwriters Mike Reid and Allen Shamblin was inspired by a story in a 1989 edition of The Tennessean about street drunks. The song, according to the writers, started out as an uptempo bluegrass song intended for Ricky Skaggs.

What happened with the song became the polar opposite when its tempo was slowed down and the voice to bring it to life in 1991 was Bonnie Raitt.

Bart Herbison, executive director of Nashville Songwriters Association International, sat down with Reid and Shamblin to get the story behind this beloved song that in addition to Raitt, has been recorded by George Michael, Boys II Men, Adele, actress and singer Priyanka Chopra and Prince.

Not a traditional inspiration for a song

Reid and Shamblin recounted to Herbison the initial inspiration for this song was a line in a newspaper article in the Dec. 18, 1989 edition of the Tennessean. The story, titled, “A Day in the Jungle with Drinking Buddies” written by Anne Paine was about the life of a street drunk.

Not the traditional foundation for a love song.

But when Reid read the story, one particular quote struck him as poignant. One of the interviewees was recounting that he and his wife had divorced due to his alcoholism and said, “You can’t make a damn woman love you if she don’t.”

A line from this Tennessean story from 1989 inspired two Nashville songwriters to write “I Can’t Make You Love Me” originally recorded by Bonnie Raitt. (Newspapers.com)

The two co-authored the song, but it wasn’t set on the slower tempo until Shamblin heard Reid playing a completely different melody on the piano one day.

“Mike said to me ‘come upstairs I want to play you something,” Shamblin remembered. “I sit there and Mike starts playing this melody with no words. Mike’s just playing this melody and I’m getting goosebumps again telling this because it was one of the most beautiful melodies I’d ever heard. And, and I didn’t verbalize this, but I’m thinking to myself as he’s playing that I don’t even know if you should put words to this because it’s so beautiful.”

Then Reid started singing the chorus to their uptempo song over this slower melody.

“It was like God entered the room and we go down into his basement and we finished the song that day.”

Sometimes a great song takes a while to evolve

Reid said that although the newspaper article had sparked two lines for the song,

I can’t make you love me if you don’tYou can’t make your heart feel something it won’t

“We just had those two lines and we banged around on that and we just couldn’t get anywhere,” Reid said. “And then we’d go write something else.”

But these types of time gaps during the writing of songs isn’t out of the ordinary.

“We would spend six or seven hours of a day and get a line or two sometimes,” Reid said. “Sometimes…it’s a matter of listening for it.”

‘I Can’t Make You Love Me’ is ‘not our song anymore’

Brandy Clark and Mike Reid perform during the 48th annual Nashville Songwriters Hall of Fame Dinner and Induction Ceremony at the Music City Center in Nashville on Oct. 28, 2018.
© Alan Poizner /For The Tennessean

The song became one of Raitt’s most popular songs, reaching the Top 20 on the Billboard Hot 100 chart and the Top 10 on the Adult Contemporary chart. But more than chart position or awards and accolades, the song resonated with people and was recorded by several other prominent artists, keeping the song top of mind.

“I’m not sure we really think of it as our song anymore,” Reid said of the song’s significance. “Maybe we were paying attention and we were the vessel (during the write). But boy, when you get a delivery system like a Bonnie Raitt and and Don Was (producer) and Bruce Hornsby playing piano, you’ve got a winning combination.”

About the series 

In partnership with Nashville Songwriters Association International, the “Story Behind the Song” video interview series features Nashville-connected songwriters discussing one of their compositions. For full video interviews with all our subjects, visit tennessean.com/music

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Source: © Copyright The Tennessean

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How musicians and concert venues are upping the tempo on climate action

on July 25, 2025 No comments
25 Years on the Climate Beat

by Zack O’Malley Greenburg

As sustainability initiatives in other industries stall out, big acts like Coldplay, Dave Matthews, and Billie Eilish are pushing live music to go green.

It’s less than an hour before the Dave Matthews Band takes the stage on a sunny Thursday evening on the coast of Long Island — but the biggest crowds at the Northwell at Jones Beach Theater aren’t at the tequila bar. They’re in the “eco-village” operated by Reverb, a nonprofit focused on greening live music by inspiring fans to take action around climate change. 

As I wander through tents emblazoned with the logos of organizations like the Nature Conservancy and Generation180, volunteers explain how fans can reduce their carbon footprints and join the clean energy transition. The longest line emanates from Reverb’s flagship tent, where batches of limited-edition blue-and-yellow Nalgene bottles hang from tent poles like so many coconuts from a grove of palm trees.

ans acquire the bottles by making a $20 donation, which enters them into a raffle to win a guitar signed by Matthews; they can fill their bottles at a nearby filtered water station. It’s all part of “RockNRefill,” a partnership between Reverb and Nalgene. The program has raised $5 million for climate and conservation nonprofits and eliminated an estimated 4 million single-use plastic bottles. 

“It’s cutting down on single-use plastics, so we hope everybody takes a bottle home or brings it back to another show,” says Dan Hutnik, Reverb’s onsite coordinator. “We’re trying to help save the planet — I like to say, one water bottle at a time.” (I bought one of the Nalgenes, but didn’t win a signed guitar.)

Concertgoers wander around the Reverb eco-village at Dave Matthews’ show at the Northwell at Jones Beach Theater.
Zack O’Malley Greenburg

With this year’s summer touring season in full swing, the Dave Matthews Band’s efforts are just one example of the increased focus on sustainability in live music over the past several years. Decades after trailblazers like Bonnie Raitt began to prioritize climate, more and more artists are embracing sustainability and pushing for change — both inside and outside the industry — with the help of organizations like Reverb. 

Founded in 2004 by environmentalist Lauren Sullivan and her husband Adam Gardner, a guitarist and vocalist of the alt-rock group Guster, Reverb has become a leading force in greening live music. The nonprofit sends staffers like Hutnik out on the road with acts from Matthews to Billie Eilish, setting up eco-villages and organizing volunteers. Reverb staffers serve as the bands’ de facto sustainability coordinators, allowing initiatives like RockNRefill to be scaled up, rather than every artist having to build something similar from scratch.

Reverb also coordinates with concert promoters and venues, which have their own sustainability teams and programs. As part of the recent renovation of Jones Beach, for example, Live Nation added a sorting facility out back where employees handpick recyclables and compostables out of the garbage. The company’s Road To Zero campaign, a partnership with Matthews, diverted 90 percent of landfill-bound waste at the majority of the band’s shows last summer.

Live music has grown immensely since the pandemic — the top 100 tours grossed roughly $10 billion last year, nearly double what they reached in 2019. (For various reasons unrelated to climate, the 2025 number will likely be lower.) 

If abandoning climate projects is the new normal in our current political moment, the music business hasn’t gotten the memo. According to a recent Reverb study, 9 out of 10 concertgoers are concerned about climate change and are prepared to take action — and artists are ready to lead the way.

“As more and more artists are asking for the same things, it makes sense for these venues to make it a permanent change and not something where they just say, ‘OK, put away all the Styrofoam and all that crap, we’ll save it for the next band,’” said Gardner. “And that’s where the power really starts coming into play.”


Five days after Donald Trump’s second inauguration, Coldplay played the biggest — and almost certainly the most overtly eco-friendly — stadium show of the 21st Century. A crowd of 111,000 streamed into Narendra Modi Stadium in Ahmedabad, India, to see the latest stop on the band’s Music of the Spheres Tour. Coldplay has grossed nearly $1.3 billion in the first three years of the tour, making it the second-most lucrative of all time behind Taylor Swift’s Eras Tour. 

Coldplay has notched quite a few firsts on the climate front. After the group’s 2016-2017 tour, front man Chris Martin and his bandmates were so concerned about their carbon footprint that they took a break from the road until they could forge a more sustainable path. They eventually began planning the Music of the Spheres Tour with a pledge to reduce CO2 emissions by 50 percent compared to their last tour, and to hold themselves accountable with transparent reporting.

Coldplay committed to offsetting unavoidable emissions as responsibly as possible, drawing on the Oxford Principles for Net-Zero Aligned Carbon Offsetting, a guide that aims to ensure the integrity of carbon credits. The group has also used a portion of its tour proceeds to support new green technologies and environmental causes. Above all, the band wanted to push the envelope industry-wide with a sustainability rider — a set of requests that artists make as a condition for performing — covering everything from venues’ power connections to free water for fans.

Coldplay performs at a Music of the Spheres tour stop in Las Vegas in June. The tour and album name references planets and outer space.
Ethan Miller /Getty Images

Concert promoters are accustomed to accommodating all manner of demands on big acts’ riders (ranging from peppermint soap to actual kittens) and have proven open to doing the same for climate initiatives.

“Any artist could add sustainability considerations to their rider and try to influence promoters and venues to do things in a lower-impact way,” said Luke Howell, the band’s head of sustainability. “While not all artists can change how a venue operates at the macro scale, they can all ask for no single-use plastics, more veggie options on menus, or make sure the kit they are using is efficient and specced correctly to minimize energy use. And they can all engage their fans.”

To that end, while operating at a scale that few other acts can approach, Coldplay has introduced a bevy of novel green touring concepts. The band partnered with BMW to develop the first mobile show battery, which can power 100 percent of a concert with renewable energy. These clean sources include solar panels that come along for the ride, as well as power-generating bicycles and kinetic floors that quite literally draw energy from dancing fans.


Coldplay, of course, isn’t the first group to care about its impact on the planet, or try to reduce it. Environmental activism in the modern pop music world dates back more than half a century to conservation-focused songs like Joni Mitchell’s “Big Yellow Taxi” and Marvin Gaye’s “Mercy Mercy Me (The Ecology).” 

Similarly, early benefit concerts — many organized by late folk singer Tom Campbell — focused on causes like protecting forests in the Pacific Northwest. After Bonnie Raitt and Jackson Browne played one such show in Oregon, their crews needed a police escort out of town to stave off a convoy of chainsaw-wielding loggers.

As the science around global warming went mainstream at the turn of the millennium, artists turned their focus toward climate change. Raitt’s 2002 summer tour launched Green Highway, a traveling eco-village where fans could learn about environmental issues and check out the newest hybrid vehicles from Honda. She and her manager, Kathy Kane, convinced tour bus companies to let them power their vehicles with biodiesel, booking the tour well in advance so as to route buses efficiently instead of wasting fuel hopscotching the country.

At every venue, Raitt’s rider called for replacing disposable silverware with real cutlery, and she began bringing her own water bottle refill stations to reduce backstage plastic use. If there wasn’t a proper recycling system on-site, the crew would bring paper scraps on the bus and dispose of them properly in the next town. And Raitt inspired a new generation of artists who were concerned about live music’s environmental footprint.

“All I had to do was look at the ground when the lights came up at the end of the show to see all the plastic,” said Guster’s Gardner. “I just didn’t feel good about it.”

His wife, Lauren Sullivan, was working for the Rainforest Action Network when a venue refused to let them set up a table at a Dave Matthews show. Apparently, the nonprofit had been rallying against old growth woodcutting practices of one of the venue’s major sponsors. When Matthews threatened to skip the gig, the venue relented. 

The episode inspired Sullivan to team up with her husband to channel the power of live music into climate action. Sullivan reached out to Raitt, who was on the Rainforest Action Network’s board, and learned that the touring gear from Green Highway was in storage. Raitt offered it up — and pledged to incubate Sullivan’s project via her own nonprofit, until Reverb was officially launched in 2004.

Sullivan and Gardner wanted their new nonprofit to be an organization that all acts could use to make their tours greener. In their vision, fans walking into any venue would be greeted by a Reverb volunteer wearing a band-branded T-shirt, ready to engage on environmental issues. Concertgoers would be incentivized to take action — like reducing their own carbon footprint or pushing elected officials to enact eco-friendly legislation — with chances to win goodies like ticket upgrades and signed instruments. 

On the artists’ side, Reverb helped institutionalize practices that not only reduced waste, but saved dollars — like replacing single-use batteries with rechargeable battery packs for performers’ in-ear monitors. Over time, due to artist demand, these rechargeable packs became the norm.

It turned out that, when big acts demanded a certain standard of sustainability, the live music industry was willing to make meaningful changes. Adam Met, from the alt-pop band AJR, remembers realizing this while planning a tour five years ago and asking venues to eliminate single-use plastics.

“Every place we went, the venue [employees] said, ‘Oh, like Jack Johnson,’” recalled Met, who now serves on Reverb’s advisory board. “That was the artist bringing the requests to the table, and an organization like Reverb.”

As the nonprofit grew, one challenge was broadening its reach beyond alt-rock, whose artists and audiences skew heavily white, male, and middle-aged. To that end, Reverb worked increasingly with emerging artists to help them weave sustainability into their touring process from day one.  

Perhaps the best example is Billie Eilish, who started teaming up with Reverb six years ago when she rose to stardom with her 2019 album “When We All Fall Asleep, Where Do We Go?” On her 2022 Happier Than Ever Tour, Reverb helped her eliminate 117,000 single-use plastic bottles, save 8.8 million gallons of water, and push venues to offer plant-based meals — for the same prices as meat-based meals. She also introduced the pricier Changemaker Ticket, with proceeds supporting climate projects. Eilish even fueled her 2023 Lollapalooza set with solar-backed batteries.

Billie Eilish performs onstage at Lollapalooza in 2023 in Chicago.
Michael Hickey /Getty Images for ABA

Other young artists have also joined the movement. Last year, for the first time, solar panels fueled the batteries behind festivals in the world of country music (Tyler Childers’ Healing Appalachia) and hip-hop (Tyler, the Creator’s Camp Flog Gnaw). And concert promoters continue to step up to meet artist and fan demand. In 2022, Live Nation invested in Turn Systems, purveyor of a leading reusable cup setup; earlier this month, AEG hosted its first solar-backed battery-powered festival.

“As touring infrastructure becomes normalized where we don’t have to go out of our way to bring along our reusables and compostables, it’s just part of what’s happening at those venues,” said Gardner. “If that becomes the new normal, then there’s massive savings there, both with carbon and with dollars.”


On a bright Monday morning, I was walking through Central Park with AJR’s Met — discussing the future of green touring — when, appropriately, we happened upon the seasonal amphitheater at Rumsey Playfield. Perched on a hill overlooking Bethesda Fountain, it has hosted acts ranging from Pitbull to the Barenaked Ladies. The venue is largely constructed with repurposed shipping containers.

“So the infrastructure itself is already reused, which is great,” said Met, who then wondered aloud how this sort of space could be used during the venue’s downtime — perhaps as a seasonal solar farm. “There are all of these different ways to think about how to use the venue itself as a producer for sustainability initiatives.”

For Met, though, what’s even more powerful is the collective ability of fans to mobilize around the causes championed by their favorite artists. That’s the focus of his new book, Amplify: How to Use the Power of Connectivity to Engage, Take Action, and Build a Better World

He believes that, with a little encouragement, audiences can be particularly potent around local causes. For example, during last summer’s AJR tour stop in Phoenix — where temperatures reached 109 degrees — thousands of fans signed petitions to FEMA asking the agency to designate extreme heat as a type of emergency, thereby unlocking additional funds for response. In Salt Lake City, concertgoers phone-banked around increasing the Great Salt Lake’s water levels because of the economic benefits it provides to seven different states; Met noted that each state later voted for progressive climate policies, even the ones that went for Trump.

This sort of activity might strike some as preachy, but it turns out most fans don’t mind. According to a survey of 350,000 concertgoers organized by Met’s nonprofit, Planet Reimagined, most fans encourageit. A full 70 percent of respondents said they had no problem with musicians publicly addressing climate change; 53 percent believed artists had an obligation to do so.

Perhaps the most important thing an artist can do on the climate front is spotlight the collective carbon footprint of concertgoers — a facet that has more to do with advocating for a greener society than a greener music industry. As part of its Music Decarbonization Project, Reverb recently released its Concert Travel Study, which found the average amount of CO2 emissions generated by the thousands of fans getting to a given show is 38 times larger than that of the typical act — including artist and crew travel, hotel stays, and gear transportation. 

That makes sense: 80 percent of fans at the average show arrive in a personal vehicle, usually gasoline-powered. Yet the study also found that fans are hungry for greener ways to attend concerts — 33 percent would prefer to use public transit, but only 9 percent say they can and do.

Rock stars can’t make cities build more subways. But they can work with municipalities to run more routes on show nights, and keep trains and buses open later than usual. They can also team up with businesses like Rally and Uber that can offer deals on group shuttles. That’s something Raitt and her peers never had back in the day.

“I mean, what were you going to do, send postcards to people in the ’90s: ‘Let’s meet up at 8 o’clock and catch a ride to the show?’” said Raitt’s manager, Kane. “The development of technology has been able to allow fans to connect into a community, and artists to connect to their fans, in more real time.”

Music — and the special energy and sense of community that forms around a concert — has a unique power, whether that’s starting fashion trends or catalyzing social change. It shouldn’t be a stretch for acts to inspire fans to choose more sustainable options, especially if artists and venues do the work to make those options more accessible. 

At its best, live music can be a launching pad for all sorts of climate-friendly ideas — from the plant-based concessions championed by Eilish to the kinetic dance floors pushed by Coldplay — making them not only available, but desirable to the broader public.

In the meantime, back at Jones Beach, as Dave Matthews winds down his set, thousands of cars sit in the parking lot beyond the grandstand, dimly illuminated by a strawberry moon rising over the ocean. While many fans will be leaving with new reusable water bottles, they’ll still have to burn dinosaur bones to get home. But the singer offers a message of hope.

“The world is a little bit crazy at the moment,” Matthews tells the crowd. “We should take care of each other a little bit more.”

One Nalgene at a time.


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Joni’s jazz and Bonnie’s blues: ‘All this time later, I still find it thrilling’

on July 22, 2025 No comments
by Mark Schlack

Two of my favorite musicians, Joni Mitchell and Bonnie Raitt, are being feted in this twilight of their careers. Be it the Grammys or social media, I’m thrilled to see them get their due and for more people to be exposed to their brilliance. But as Joni famously sings, “something’s lost and something’s gained, in living every day.” And what’s missing for me is an acknowledgement of the daring brilliance of their lesser known, or at least less celebrated, work: Raitt’s bluesy first six albums and Mitchell’s jazzy 10 album stretch, from 1975’s “Hissing of Summer Lawns” to 1998’s “Taming of the Tiger.” I’ve been returning to them myself recently, and reflecting on what it meant for me to hear them the first time around.

I remember hearing Mitchell in her very early days, her guitar and dulcimer reminiscent of Appalachia, but her lyrics going somewhere newer and more modern. By the time she came out with Blue in 1971, a song like “The Last Time I Saw Richard” spoke deeply to me, not of lost love, but of lost hope. Only two years before, her song “Woodstock” had captured a certain spirit of change, but now she gave voice to my own growing sense of futility. Other than Laura Nyro (who inspired Mitchell to play piano), I had never heard a woman sing songs like that, songs she wrote and played herself, songs that were deep and filled with adult emotions. Her poetry was not Dylanesque imagery but frank, personal and revealing stories. These are still the songs, and this is still the album, she’s most known for, and for good reason.

But by 1974’s “Court and Spark,” she could feel the constraints of her confessional folk rock. Starting with “Hissing of Summer Lawns,” Joni created a new popular genre that melded folk, rock, blues and modern jazz. At the time, I didn’t always appreciate her efforts, and I really didn’t recognize that the people now playing on her albums — Charles Mingus, Wayne Shorter, Pat Metheny, John McLauglin, Herbie Hancock, Jaco Pastorius — were jazz royalty, creating new styles all their own.

But over the years I caught up with her. Now, when I listen to listen to a cut like “The Dry Cleaner from Des Moines,” from her 1979 “Mingus” album,  I’m transported by her interplay with Jaco’s thundering bass, her nimble scatting and just the whole vibe of the song. When I hear an album like “Don Juan’s Reckless Daughter,” where she is joined by most of Weather Report (one of the era’s top fusion bands), I feel like I’m listening to one of those lost albums that’s suddenly cool again. The music constantly surprises, even if it’s not super hummable.

When I was coming of musical age myself, the polarities of disco and heavy metal ruled the radio, but I wanted the spicy, tasty complex musical stew that groups like Traffic, Steely Dan, late Doobie Brothers, early Springsteen were cooking up. What I didn’t realize at the time was how Mitchell was out front of all of them in showing us a way that the threads of commercial pop could evolve and join with jazz. It’s still not everyone’s cup of tea, but I wish more people could taste it or at least get a sniff.

While it’s not what she’s best known for these days, Bonnie Raitt also bucked trends in the 1970s. She interpreted top-notch singer/songwriter types like Jackson Browne, John Prine and Steve Goodman to great effect, but she was first and foremost a blues musician. And Raitt was not only a singer, but a badass slide guitar player. I was deep into blues slide at the time, and she was the only woman I had heard take that on.


It’s still not everyone’s cup of tea, but I wish more people could taste it or at least get a sniff.

We very recently got a taste of Bonnie’s versatility at the Kennedy Center, in the festivities honoring her musical legacy. I was delighted to hear the Keb Mo and Susan Tedeschi version of her take on Robert Johnson’s “Walkin Blues,” but there’s so much more where that came from. Bonnie brought blue fire into her rock. I remember seeing her play “About to make me leave home” in the late ‘70s, at a concert at Muhlenberg College, and just being giddy at how her guitar crackled with energy. In her 1989 comeback album “Nick of Time,” Bonnie seemed different, more focused on healing than howling. That’s the album that seems to have endured, at least if the ubiquitous declaration of “I Can’t Make You Love Me” being one of the the saddest songs ever written is any indication. But sometimes, I miss those howls!

So why don’t we celebrate Raitt’s blues and Mitchell’s jazz when we pay tribute on stage, or just on our Spotify streaming? I think it’s because Raitt’s adult-themed pop rock and Mitchell’s early folk rock feel more comfortable to fans. Raitt’s blues recall her personal struggles. Mitchell’s jazz highlights her unrepentant iconoclasm, her unwillingness to make endless copies of her masterpiece.

Joni Mitchell, The Last Waltz – Winterland San Francisco – Nov 1976 Photo by Michael Ochs Archives /Getty Images

Watching Raitt in her mid-1970s blues heyday, we were watching a train wreck in progress — rarely sober, tumultuous relationships, bad karma from the record company. I hear the anger, hurt, sadness and defeat that her slide sang of, but I also feel the defiance and resilience. Isn’t that the benefit of listening to a woman who’s led a long and full life, with all its ups and downs?

Mitchell refuses to disown her jazz, but the Brandi Carlile-led troupe of young musician supporting her seem much more suited to albums like “Ladies of the Canyon” than Joni’s folk jazz. I want to hear Joni with current jazz greats like Charles Lloyd or Bill Frisell, Brad Mehldau or Terence Blanchard, the way Herbie Hancock and Wayne Shorter took her on with their 2007 “River: The Joni Letters.”

I grew up on popular music of the ‘60s, from doo-wop in the early years to psychedelia by the late ‘60s. The borders and barriers between Black and white music, and between the many sub-genres of popular music, were constantly shifting. Simon and Garfunkel were experimenting with reggae and the Beatles with Indian music; Hendrix was all experiment. I remember hearing Santana on their first trip to New York, lighting up Central Park with their never-heard-before Latin rock.

These two women were a key part of that experimentation, but somehow got dinged for it in the public eye. They took many risks to make room for their distinctive voices. They battled the usual prejudices against women in rock and roll. And they carved out musical niches that were new and important, if not always emulated.

All this time later, I still find it thrilling.

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