Review #492: Nick of Time, Bonnie Raitt
#492: Nick of Time, Bonnie Raitt
I only have two points of reference for Bonnie Raitt. The first is “Something to Talk About,” where she sounds like a raspy sex goddess. The other is from RS’s list of the 100 Greatest Guitarists of All Time, which, if you’ll recall, I once wrote a philosophy paper on. (Which apparently they updated just a few months ago — STOP MAKING LISTS. IT’S STRESSING ME OUT.) She was #89 on the first list, and was upgraded to #54 on the second.
But Raitt’s career was an uphill battle — three years before she released this record, Warner Bros. dropped her, citing her lack of sales. But after they told her of their intentions, they also told her that they were still going to release the album she’d just finished recording — oh yeah, and they were going to change its name. Raitt called the situation unfair, especially because she was then forced to promote an album that she no longer had any creative control over, for a label that had dropped her.
That wasn’t the end of her troubles — two years after the issue, the affair she was having with producer Rob Fraboni ended, meaning that she was no longer able to pay her backing band. Raitt grew depressed and soon started relying on alcohol to distract her. After a ski accident, she had a come to Jesus, ceased her partying ways, and stopped drinking. But she eventually found the finances and support to record her tenth album, and even after fourteen different label executives passed on her (including Prince!) she finally found a home at Capitol Records.
And as you can probably tell from its very presence on this list, Nick of Time broke through. It became the bestselling album of her career, debuting at #105 then climbing to #1 on the Billboard 200. It took her ten whole albums, but Bonnie Raitt was finally a star.
Albums from the Eighties usually have a few things in common. Keyboards are usually present. High-waisted pants, too. But my favorite thing about them is that they are uncynical, with full-throated heart-on-their-sleeve lyrics. “Nick of Time” itself is about our fear of the passage of time, but mentions things like her friend’s fear of not having a baby, and how her parents bodies are changing. “Love Letter” is simply about her writing a love letter to a man who doesn’t know he loves her yet. And see also “Have a Heart,” where she cries, If you don’t love me, why don’t you let me go? There were a few “so Eighties it hurts” ones for me, like “Too Soon to Tell” and “Cry on My Shoulder.” But listen, the latter has Crosby & Nash singing backup on it, so it’s not allowed to hurt me that bad.
My favorite songs on this record were the ones where she’s showing off her slide guitar skills. Check out her take on “Thing Called Love,” which by the way has the most hilarious lyrics, rhyming Queen of Sheba with amoeba. Also loved “Real Man,” which is the spiritual predecessor to Shania’s “That Don’t Impress Me Much.” Also see “I Will Not Be Denied” and the twelve-bar blues “The Road’s My Middle Name,” where a harmonica sounds so much like a freight train.
I’ve seen some criticisms of Raitt’s voice, but I think there are some truly beautiful vocals on here. “Nobody’s Girl” is a brief acoustic about the contradiction of being an independent woman, who’s seen as quite independent but is actually fragile as a string of pearls. But maybe the standout is the penultimate “I Ain’t Gonna Let You Break My Heart Again,” with Raitt singing as tenderly as she can over Herbie Hancock’s piano playing. Raitt has her critics, but Eighties songbird Linda Ronstadt herself said that she “has way more musicianship than I do.”
Raitt got her flowers later in life. She was even the first woman to get a signature line of Fender guitars. I loved reading RS’s Musicians on Musicians article where she and Brandi Carlile interview each other. Also, I love the little white streak in the front of her hair. She really can pull off anything.
