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Bonnie Raitt’s First Big Hit Single Came Courtesy of an Unheralded Canadian Songwriter

on August 16, 2025 No comments
By Jim Beviglia

Perseverance characterizes the career of Bonnie Raitt. Through personal and professional setbacks, Raitt kept plugging away at her art and her craft. Public indifference to her brilliance bordered on the criminal, at least until her long-awaited breakthrough in the late 80s let everyone in on what they’d been missing.

When it came to delivering a major hit single, Raitt did so by honoring the work of a songwriter who’d also been underappreciated. 20 years after her recording career began, Bonnie Raitt hit the Top 5 on the pop charts.

Unfairly Unheard

Right from the start, Bonnie Raitt earned the respect and praise of music critics. Her skills as both a vocalist and a guitarist shone forth on her 1971 debut album. The problem that quickly arose for Raitt, at least in terms of her commercial prospects, was that she was often caught in between two worlds.

When her records delivered bluesy authenticity, pop audiences largely turned away. And when she tried to step in a more mainstream direction, she took heat from the critics. Truth be told, Raitt never sounded comfortable moving away from the roots music she did best.

With the lack of commercial success, both in terms of album sales and hit singles, came pressure from record labels. On top of that, Raitt struggled throughout the early part of the 80s with drug and alcohol abuse. Although she remained as respected among her peers as any artist, her career seemed on the verge of being completely extinguished.

‘Time’ Changes Everything

Raitt managed to get clean from her substance abuse issues in the second half of the 80s. She found a new label and a collaborator in producer Don Was, who brought out the best in her. With a sharp, clear mind working in her favor and her skills as potent as ever, Raitt unleashed the album Nick Of Time in 1989.

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The album proved a sensation, soaring to the top of the LP charts and winning Album Of The Year at the 1990 Grammy Awards. But even though many of the songs from that record are now universally beloved, they weren’t giant hit singles. “Have A Heart” did the best, reaching No. 49.

But Raitt now had the public’s attention, as they anticipated her follow-up album. This is the point of the story where an unheralded Canadian songwriter named Shirley Eikhard arrives. Eikhard had sent Raitt a song a few years prior about a couple getting a one-up on small-town gossip. It was called “Something To Talk About”.

Productive “Talk”

Eikhard had written the song in the mid-80s and almost had Anne Murray, a Canadian pop legend, on the hook to record it. But Murray couldn’t convince her label of the song’s worth. Looking for other artists, Eikhard mailed a demo to Raitt, realizing that the artist might never even get around to listening to it, let alone liking it.

But Raitt did listen, and she was blown away. She cut her version of “Something To Talk About”, and then sent Eikhard a phone message with the recording for her to hear. Raitt also chose the song as the first single off her 1991 album Luck Of The Draw.

“Something To Talk About” was the right song at the right point in Raitt’s career. Radio ate it up, and it went to No. 5 on the pop charts. Granted, that kind of recognition was long overdue. But at least the mainstream music world had finally caught up with Bonnie Raitt.

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Bonnie Raitt Gives It One More Try with ‘Green Light’: Review
REVIEWS: Album Rewinds

on June 29, 2025 No comments
by Mark Leviton

In the summer and fall of 1981, Bonnie Raitt was enjoying the sunshine and good vibes in Malibu, Calif., recording her eighth album for Warner Bros. Records at Shangri-La Studios, a two-acre ranch up the hill from popular Zuma Beach. Audio engineer Rob Fraboni had converted the main house, which had been a bordello in the 1950s, into a recording studio at the direction of Bob Dylan and the Band after their 1974 tour.

By 1976, Fraboni and his business partners had bought the building and upgraded it to a full 24-track facility. The Band continued to do sessions at Shangri-La, and Eric Clapton later recorded his No Reason to Cry LP there. As Raitt told High Fidelity’s Stephen X. Rea, “I’ve been waiting my entire career to make this record, and I finally got the right band with the right producer in the right studio…I had a ball. Green Light is the first album I actually had fun doing…I tend to worry too much, to analyze and anguish over everything. That tends to make you look at things in a more serious framework. But then there’s the side of me that likes to let go and party all the time. It’s difficult to reconcile the two. Rob and the guys in the band helped to bring out the rebellious, crazy side of me.”

Warner Bros. was an artist-friendly label that was known for sticking with acts they liked and supported, giving them lots of opportunities to turn good recordings into commercial hits, but not applying a lot of pressure. Raitt would probably have already been dropped by most other labels, but she had a home: “I’m amazed that 200,000 or 300,000 people want to buy my record. I’m grateful that we draw as well as we do. All the people that come to see me year after year after year—I feel like I have a pact with them.”

Her previous album, The Glow, produced by the hitmaker Peter Asher, failed to meet expectations, with Raitt admitting she was “stung by the lack of response.” Inspired by the rootsy bands she was enjoying, including the Blasters, the Stray Cats and Rockpile, she intended to make an unabashed rock record. She told Rea, “There were inklings of the direction I was going in all along, when I started standing up at my shows about five years ago instead of sitting in a chair; when I began to play the Gibson instead of the acoustic, and then a Strat instead of the Gibson; when I moved my uptempo songs from the encore to the beginning of the set.”

Raitt found a readymade set of co-conspirators in the Bump Band, which featured ex-Faces keyboardist Ian “Mac” McLagan, guitarist Johnny Lee Schell, bassist Ray Ohara and drummer Ricky Fataar. They were signed to Mercury Records but could be imported as a unit, with additional players, like guitarist Rick Vito, organist William “Smitty” Smith or saxophonist David Woodford added as necessary.

As Raitt didn’t compose much, the songs were sourced from a smorgasbord of admired classics (the Equals’ “Baby Come Back”), nuggets from the eclectic catalog of NRBQ (“Me and the Boys” and “Green Lights”) an unrecorded Bob Dylan masterwork (“Let’s Keep It Between Us”) and other hot finds. Raitt co-wrote two of the LP’s 10 cuts, explaining songwriting wasn’t a priority: “I guess it’s a combination of laziness and lack of desire. I don’t spend any time at it. I don’t play guitar or piano for recreational purposes. I’m not a songwriter. I’m not a poet like Jackson Browne. I’m just not that good at it. Maybe I’d be better if I worked at it more.”

“Keep This Heart In Mind,” written by the fairly obscure Fred Marrone and Stephen Holsapple, leads off the album, and was unfortunately the disc’s initial failed single release. It has an infectious chorus, in which the singer insists that an ex-lover can always come back—a touching, if probably unrealistic, optimism. Raitt’s authoritative singing is buttressed by four backing vocalists, including Jackson Browne.

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Eric Kaz, the highly respected songwriter for Raitt, Linda Ronstadt and many others, wrote “River of Tears.” Like “Love Has No Pride” and other heart-tuggers he wrote or co-composed, it features downcast lyrics: “Rivers of tears, oceans of heartbreak/I want to feel what your love can be/I close my eyes.” Unusually for Kaz, melodically it’s not a lament, but rather a midtempo groover. The Band’s Richard Manuel (who was living on the Shangri-La property at the time) sings harmony, and Raitt lays down her first impressive slide guitar solo.

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Walt Richmond, pianist for Tulsa country-rockers the Tractors, co-wrote “Can’t Get Enough” with Raitt. A funky reggae beat merges with a guitar riff recalling both Ian Dury’s “Hit Me With Your Rhythm Stick” and (when the saxophone enters), Average White Band’s “Pick Up the Pieces.” It’s a wonderfully rambunctious track that Raitt leads with enthusiasm. Fraboni and Fataar add some nice percussion.

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Schell’s “Willya Wontcha” begins with a bang as his crisp guitar blends with Raitt’s slide and McLagan’s barrelhouse piano. Taken at a breakneck pace, it very much sounds like a hybrid Little Feat/Faces romp, with Schell singing parallel lines with Raitt like he’s Lowell George’s twin. Her slide solo midway is fiery. The lyrics are silly (“Willya wontcha do you dontcha really really wanna kiss me?/Honey it’s all right/I promise I won’t bite”) but who cares when you’re dancing around the room?

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“Let’s Keep It Between Us” is an unrecorded Dylan song the bard offered to Raitt. Dylan had played it live on his autumn 1980 tour, but his own tour-rehearsal tape wasn’t released until 2021 on Bootleg Series Vol. 16. With a gospel drive characteristic of several of Dylan’s early ’70s songs like “The Groom’s Still Waiting at the Altar,” it features a series of descending melody lines that the band absolutely nails. The interplay between McLagan’s piano and Smith’s organ couldn’t be better.

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Raitt seems especially committed to the lyrics, about a (possibly interracial) couple defending themselves against the disdain of the world: “Back seat drivers don’t know the feel of the wheel/But they sure know how to make a fuss/Oh darlin’, can we keep it between us?” The bridge section adds an even more shocking aspect of the dilemma: “I know we’re not perfect, but then again, so what?/That ain’t no reason to treat you like a snake or to treat me like a slut/And it’s making me so angry.” In a career of great performances, this one may be Raitt’s most overlooked.

Raitt’s take of Terry Adams’ “Me and the Boys” follows the template of NRBQ’s 1980 original on their Tiddlywinks album, with its excitingly irregular rhythm intact and tons of room for hard rockin’ from the whole Bump Band. The groove is so like Rockpile it’s no wonder Dave Edmunds cut the song for his D.E. 7th album, which was released within a few months of Green Light.

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Schell’s love of Keith Richards’ leading-from-the-rhythm technique is shown beautifully during the opening of “I Can’t Help Myself,” which he wrote with Raitt, Fataar and Ohara. The lyrics are a joyous celebration from the point of view of a woman who learned how to fall in love at an early age and never regretted it: “No matter how hard I try/I just can’t leave it alone/No use in wondering why/’Cause my heart has a mind of its own.” Vince Gill sings backup lines with Raitt and Schell.

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“Baby Come Back” was originally a B-side for the multiracial British group the Equals’ single “Hold Me Closer” in 1967, before it returned as an A-side the following year as a worldwide hit (it peaked at #32 in the U.S.). Written by the band’s guitarist Eddy Grant, it grafted ska onto bubblegum pop, with a 4/4 beat that wouldn’t let go. The Bump Band arrangement replicates much of the original, including the spoken “all right”s and “yeah”s added by Bonnie’s big brother Steve.

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Penned by the genre-bending Texan Jerry Williams (often known as Jerry Lynn Williams to avoid confusion with Jerry Williams Jr., a.k.a. Swamp Dogg), “Talk to Me” was included on his 1979 Warner Bros. disc Gone. Rick Vito’s guitar is added for Raitt’s version, to help it hit the spot between disco and Stax-style R&B. It’s a bit of a throwaway, but when the last 45 seconds are turned over to Woodford, it catches fire.

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NRBQ originally cut “Green Lights” for their 1978 LP At Yankee Stadium, definitely not recorded at the baseball field, but with cover photos taken there as a birthday present for their bassist and Bronx Bombers fanatic Joey Spampinato. He wrote “Green Lights” with Terry Adams, and Raitt grabbed it for a fantastic conclusion to her “singular” LP. The band rocks mightily, but Fraboni and his engineer Tim Kramer botch part of the track, with Raitt’s voice too far back in the mix, with a vocal effect laid on it that screams “’80s” way too much.

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Green Light was a solid enough album, but it didn’t break new ground commercially for Raitt. The record label began to admit she was never going to become the star she should be, and her contract was terminated in 1983 just after she turned in her next album, Tongue & Groove. In an extraordinary move, the label gave her the money to recut part of the album in 1985 (“I think at this point they felt kind of bad. I mean, I was out there touring on my savings to keep my name up, and my ability to draw was less and less”). Released as Nine Lives, it did nothing.

And then Capitol Records signed her, and she decided it was time to stop her sometimes over-the-top lifestyle. Raitt’s debut and “first sober album” for Capitol, Nick of Time, went to #1, and she won four Grammy Awards at the 32nd ceremony, three for that album and one for her duet with John Lee Hooker, “I’m In the Mood,” from his album The Healer.

Her time at Warner Bros. Records had been exhilarating, frustrating and highly creative, and her legacy there is still well worth exploring. She’ll kick off her next tour in August 2025. Tickets are available here and here.

Watch Raitt perform “Me and the Boys” live on Fridays  in 1982

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Raitt’s extensive catalog is available in the U.S. here and in the U.K. here.

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Bonnie Raitt: She’s Unique Among Her Peers

on December 16, 2024 No comments
Brian Ives // Managing Editor, Beasley Media

Bonnie Raitt is unique among her peers: she debuted with her self-titled album in 1971, a great era for post-hippie rock music. During that time, Jackson Browne, Little Feat, Bruce Springsteen, Linda Ronstadt, Randy Newman, Elton John, Billy Joel, Warren Zevon, and Carly Simon, among others, were kicking off their careers and putting out classic albums. 

But out of all of them, only Bonnie Raitt hit her stride and commercial peak once her thirties were ending, ten albums into her career. Is there any artist in any genre with a similar trajectory? 

This isn’t to say that her first nine albums didn’t have gems: they did. “Thank You,” “Give It Up Or Let Me Go,” “Love Has No Pride,” and “Love Me Like A Man” are fantastic, as are her covers of Randy Newman’s “Guilty,” Joni Mitchell’s “That Song About The Midway,” Del Shannon’s “Runaway,” Jackson Browne’s “My Opening Farewell” and especially John Prine’s “Angel From Montgomery.” 

Bonnie Raitt had her commercial breakthrough at a relatively late date in her career. Nick Of Time, released in March of 1989 – just a few months short of Raitt’s 40th birthday – was her ninth album. It was her best album up until that point. It might be her best album ever. 

Nick Of Time has been certified five times platinum for sales in excess of five million units in America; it won three Grammy Awards, including Album of the Year. It also topped the Billboard charts. And it wasn’t a fluke, either: the follow-up, 1991’s Luck Of The Draw, went platinum seven times and also won a bunch of Grammys. Not every album since then has hit those peaks, but as of this writing, her most recent album, 2022’s Just Like That… is another milestone. It won three Grammys, including Song of the Year for the title track (more on that song below).

Most artists have early peaks. They make their mark with songs about what it’s like to be young, that were written and recorded when they’re in their 20s or (maybe) 30s. Bonnie Raitt really found her voice when she was singing about what it’s like to be middle-aged. It’s a cliche to compare someone to wine (“they improve with age”). But I’ll compare Bonnie Raitt to wine for a different reason. When I was a kid in my 20s, I didn’t “get” wine. I didn’t dislike wine; I just wasn’t interested in it. But as I grew up, I understood that wine is something that you develop a taste for, and one that maybe takes some years to appreciate. That’s how I feel about Bonnie Raitt. I was in college when Nick of Time was released: I liked her voice and loved her slide guitar playing but her records just weren’t for me. 

Decades later, now I get it. Now I love her music. I’m glad I came around. She is an inspiration. Bonnie Raitt shows that you don’t have to chase who and what you were when you were in your teens, twenties, and thirties. You can, in fact, keep getting better as you progress through life. (OK, so: kind of like wine.) Here are some songs that help to make that point.

“Nick Of Time” from ‘Nick Of Time’ (1989)

“Nick Of Time” could have described Raitt’s own situation. By the end of the ‘80s, she’d been dropped by her longtime record label, Warner Brothers. She had to let go of her longtime backing band because she couldn’t pay them anymore, and she fell into depression and began drinking too much. Things started to turn around when she met Prince, who was a big fan. He offered her a record deal with his label, and while that didn’t work out, things soon turned around. She met Don Was of the funk band Was (Not Was), who agreed to produce her next album. She also quit drinking and signed a modest deal with Capitol Records.

The title track, “Nick Of Time,” which Raitt wrote, wasn’t really about her own situation. It spoke more to the broader experience of closing in on your 40s, something very few rock stars addressed. The first verse is about a friend who wants a baby and knows she doesn’t have much more time to have one. Then she addresses another experience common to those of us who have passed the big four-oh: “I see my folks are getting on/And I watch their bodies change/I know they see the same in me/And it makes us both feel strange/No matter how you tell yourself/It’s what we all go through/Those lines are pretty hard to take/When they’re staring back at you.”

She then tells of how she found love after giving up on it: “I found love, baby, in the nick of time.” Few single people in their late 30s (and beyond) hear their stories told in contemporary music. Bonnie Raitt was telling the stories of millions of Americans in her first new song, and it’s something she frequently did in the next few decades.

“Thing Called Love” from ‘Nick of Time’ (1989)

A cover of a song by John Hiatt (another guy who is good at giving voice to the experience of being middle-aged). He recorded the original for his 1987 album, Bring The Family. The song was, for many, the introduction to Nick Of Time. And for some, it may have been their introduction to Bonnie Raitt; the video was in constant rotation on the new music video channel, Video Hits One (now known as VH1). The clip was just as no-nonsense as Raitt herself: it showed her fronting her band in a small bar as she exchanged flirtatious looks with Dennis Quaid. While it doesn’t sound so incredibly revolutionary, watching people in their late 30s flirting in a bar, having a blast and looking sexy as hell wasn’t something you saw in media (and certainly not on VH1’s younger counterpart, MTV).

Like any other guitar hero, Bonnie gets a sweet solo in the song, as she points out to a generation of Guitar World cover boys that it’s more about feel than about speed.

“Something To Talk About” from ‘Luck Of The Draw’ (1991)

After the massive success of Nick Of Time, Raitt stuck with Don Was for the follow-up. That was a smart plan: their partnership still clearly had a lot of chemistry. Raitt was also smart when it came to song selection. Unlike many of her peers, she didn’t view her albums as showcases for her songwriting. Her records assemble the best songs she can get ahold of, whether they are written by her, or covers of well-known artists, or written by outside writers. “Something To Talk About” was written by Canadian artist Shirley Eikhard, and was almost recorded by soft-pop singer Anne Murray. It was a song looking for the right singer, and obviously, with Bonnie Raitt, it found it.

VH1 loved the video, which showed Raitt and her band performing while couples of various ethnicities and ages dance and have a great time near a pool. Again, a strength of Raitt’s new era was allowing lots of people to feel seen in a way that was uncommon in a lot of pop or rock music. The song may have been inspired by her personal life: Raitt married actor Michael O’Keefe in 1991; they literally gave the paparazzi of the time something to talk about.

“I Can’t Make You Love Me” from ‘Luck Of The Draw’ (1991)

On any list of the most heartbreaking songs of all time, this has got to be towards the top. Composed by country music writers Mike Reid (a former NFL all-pro whose songs had been recorded by Ronnie Milsap, Tanya Tucker, and Alabama, among others) and Allen Shamblin (Keith Urban and Miranda Lambert have recorded his songs). Raitt told Rolling Stone, “Of all the songs in my career, that one is that one is the greatest gift. I think it stands among the best songs ever written.”

It’s a song about the end of a relationship, but you get the sense that it’s a long relationship that has been over for quite a while. This isn’t a firey breakup, it’s one where the flame has slowly been burning out over months, or maybe years. “I’ll close my eyes, then I won’t see/The love you don’t feel when you’re holding me/Morning will come, and I’ll do what’s right/Just give me till then to give up this fight.” It’s absolutely devastating.

“Longing In Their Hearts” from ‘Longing In Their Hearts’ (1994)

The title track from Raitt’s third and final album with Don Was, Longing In Their Hearts. She co-wrote this one with her husband, Michael O’Keefe. The song tells the story of a couple who get along just fine, but they both know that they want different things. And Raitt notes that she feels the same way: “Well now you and me, we’re just like them/We never wanted to be alone/So we made a pact, sealed with desire/For a happier house and home/Only to find it doesn’t untie/The knot we’re feeling inside/There’s a longing deep inside our hearts.” Once again, it’s a song that deals with adult relationships: it’s not unrequited love, and it’s not new love. It’s two people who love each other but are being drawn in different directions and might be bored with each other.

“Dimming Of The Day” from ‘Longing In Their Hearts’ (1994)

Raitt really is great at finding amazing songs to cover that mainstream audiences may not be familiar with. She did it with John Prine’s “Angel From Montgomery,” with John Hiatt’s “Thing Called Love” and she does it here with the brilliant British singer/songwriter Richard Thompson and his “Dimming of the Day.” This is another song about a couple that appears to have been together for a long time. Things aren’t perfect – they are probably far from perfect. But they have figured out a way to make it work: “This old house is falling down around my ears/I’m drowning in a river of my tears/When all my will is gone, you hold me sway/I need you at the dimming of the day/You pull me like the moon pulls on the tide/You know just where I keep my better side.” It’s a true love song: it’s about a bond that holds even when the world is going to hell.

“One Belief Away” from ‘Fundamental’ (1998)

After three albums with Don Was, it was time to try something different. On Fundamental, Raitt did that by teaming with Mitchell Froom and Tchad Blake (who have worked with Los Lobos and Elvis Costello, among others). It was a very different and more “earthy” sound than what she and Was had achieved on her three prior albums. “One Belief Away” was co-written by Raitt with Irish singer-songwriter Paul Brady and L.A. session musician Dillon O’Brien (that’s him playing the piano on the theme song to The Office). Here, she sings about a couple that is working through issues. “The more I try to reach you/The more you slip away/I want to wake up in the darkness/And hear you callin’ out my name.” She doesn’t spell it out, but the bright, reggae-tinged music leads us to think that this particular couple works it out. “You and I, we dance around it/Why is the truth so hard to say/We long for true love/Well, we’ve found it: it’s just one belief away.” The music video shows Raitt singing at a nighttime beach party, and we see couples of – again – varying ages and ethnicities. The older ones have probably lived through the tough times and – let’s be optimistic here – they love each other more for the trials they have been through.

“Blue For No Reason” from ‘Fundamental’ (1998)

Co-written by Bonnie Raitt and Paul Brady, this one has a Stonesy swagger and looks back nostalgically on childhood: “When I was a girl, my favorite thing/In the whole wide world/Was to see a field and/Run for no reason/And off I’d go, no one behind/Only earth below.”

Adulthood, obviously, can be quite a bit less fun and spontaneous: “Now that things have changed/Everything’s carefully prearranged/Not a thing gets done/Except for a reason/Now I’m overrun, I’m startin’ to feel/Like a hired gun.” Sister, we hear you. But the song’s fun and carefree vibe suggests that you’re never too old to have a good time.

“Silver Lining” from ‘Silver Lining’ (2002)

The title track of Bonnie’s 2002 album is another well-chosen cover; this is by David Gray. You might know Gray’s massive 1999 hit, “Babylon.” “Silver Lining” is from the same album as “Babylon,” the classic White Ladder. Bonnie was in her 50s when she recorded this song; Gray was in his 30s when he wrote it. Both versions are amazing. But Raitt has a different gravitas when she sings, “We were born with our eyes wide open, so alive with wild hope, now/Can you tell me why, time after time, they drag you down?” There are a lot more disappointments and things that drag you down when you’re in your 50s than when you’re in your 30s. It lands differently when Bonnie sings it.

Raitt’s entire Silver Lining album is excellent – she stuck with the production team of Mitchell Froom and Tchad Blake from Fundamental – but the title track was a real highlight.

“Right Down The Line” from ‘Slipstream’ (2012)

Many of Raitt’s covers are of songs that may not be well known to her audience: “Silver Lining” and “Thing Called Love” are two examples. But she’s also taken swings at some pretty iconic songs. Her 1977 cover of Del Shannon’s “Runaway” is a good example. Her arrangement of that song was a radical reimagining of the 1961 hit. And she does that here, with her cover of Gerry Rafferty’s 1978 classic “Right Down The Line.” Again, the age difference matters: Rafferty released the song when he was 31. Bonnie was in her 50s when she covered this: when she sings “right down the line,” well, that line is a lot longer when you’ve lived a half-century. Refferty’s version is much smoother – we won’t use the “y-word” here, but it definitely fits the pop sound of the era.

Bonnie’s version is a bit more rough and adds a reggae beat. The video is like many of Raitt’s earlier clips (she’s not one to play a role in music videos; she’s Bonnie Raitt, so she doesn’t need to do that). She’s performing backed by her band – and let’s give it up here for bassist James “Hutch” Hutchinson and drummer Ricky Fataar, both of whom have been playing with Raitt since Nick Of Time, as well as long-time guitarist George Marinelli and keyboardist Mike Finnigean. Besides the band, we see couples of varying ages and ethnicities and some same-sex couples, too. They might be actors, but if so, they’re very good ones. All of the couples look at each other, and you can feel the love. The video ends with the message “Dedicated to Gerry Rafferty, with Love,” as the songwriter died the previous year.

“Million Miles” from ‘Slipstream’ (2012)

“Million Miles” was one of two covers from Bob Dylan’s classic 1997 album Time Out Of Mind on Slipstream (“Standing In The Doorway” was the other). “Million Miles” has a slow, bluesy stomp reminiscent of John Lee Hooker’s classics. Both of those songs saw Dylan haunted by a past love, and Bonnie conveys that perfectly. In “Million Miles,” Dylan looks back on some of the things he did with regret. You can imagine that Bonnie relates (who wouldn’t, at 50-something?): “I’m drifting in and out of dreamless sleep/Throwing all my memories in a ditch so deep/Did so many things I never did intend to do/Well, I’m trying to get closer, but I’m still a million miles from you.”

“Just Like That” from ‘Just Like That…’ (2022)

Written by Bonnie, it won Song of the Year at the Grammys. She was inspired to write this song about a woman who met a man who was the recipient of her dead son’s heart, donated after he died. “I just lost it,” Raitt told American Songwriter about her reaction when she saw a human interest segment about the story on the news. “It was the most moving and surprising thing. I wasn’t expecting it. I vowed right then that I wanted to write a song about what that would take.”

In the song, the narrator tells about how she lost her son: “And just like that your life can change/If I hadn’t looked away/My boy might still be with me now/He’d be 25 today/No knife can carve away the stain/No drink can drown regret/They say Jesus brings you peace and grace/Well he ain’t found me yet.” The man spent years trying to find her, to thank her for his life. And, as it turned out, when he found her, grace found her as well. “And just like that your life can change,” she sings. “Look what the angels send/I lay my head upon his chest/And I was with my boy again/I spent so long in darkness/Never thought the night would end/But somehow grace has found me/And I had to let him in.”

Often when a legend wins one of the “big” Grammy Awards – Song, Record or Album of the Year – it comes off as a belated lifetime achievement award. That was the case when Herbie Hancock won Album of the Year in 2008 for River: The Joni Letters, and when Steely Dan won the same award in 2001 for Two Against Nature. It was not the case this time. This song can reduce anyone to tears in the five minute and five seconds it takes to finish. When Raitt accepted the Grammy, she noted that the music was inspired by the late, great John Prine. “I don’t write many songs,” she admitted in her acceptance speech. “But I’m so proud that you appreciate this one.”

“Down The Hall” from ‘Just Like That…’ (2022)

“Down The Hall,” like “Just Like That,” was written by Raitt on her own. And it was also inspired by a true life story. This one, she read in The New York Times Magazine about a prison hospice program in Vacaville, California where inmates work as caregivers for fellow convicts who are terminally ill. The song’s narrator finds himself in the prison infirmary observing another patient who looked deathy ill. “I asked the nurse where he was goin’/She said ‘Hospice down the hall/He probably won’t be in there long/Any day we’ll get the call.’” He asked if the guy would be able to see his family before he passed. “She said ‘Not really at the end/Truth is, a lot don’t have someone/No friends or next of kin.’”

The song is a distant cousin to “Just Like That,” in that the narrator finds unexpected grace; in his case, it came after helping terminal convicts to wash their feet, cut their hair and even go to the bathroom. He concludes, musing, “I can’t undo the wrong I did/Give back the life I took/But maybe when it comes my turn/I’ll get a second look/I don’t know ’bout religion/I only know what I see/And in the end when I hold their hand/It’s both of us set free.”

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